Kim

He bored through the edge of the crowd besieging the carriages, and

squatted by the bench near the telegraph-office.

'Return, or they take thy place! Have no fear for the work,

brother--or my life. Thou hast given me breathing-space, and

Strickland Sahib has pulled me to land. We may work together at the

Game yet. Farewell!'

Kim hurried to his carriage: elated, bewildered, but a little nettled

in that he had no key to the secrets about him.

'I am only a beginner at the Game, that is sure. I could not have

leaped into safety as did the Saddhu. He knew it was darkest under the

lamp. I could not have thought to tell news under pretence of cursing

... and how clever was the Sahib! No matter, I saved the life of one

... Where is the Kamboh gone, Holy One?' he whispered, as he took his

seat in the now crowded compartment.

'A fear gripped him,' the lama replied, with a touch of tender malice.

'He saw thee change the Mahratta to a Saddhu in the twinkling of an

eye, as a protection against evil. That shook him. Then he saw the

Saddhu fall sheer into the hands of the polis--all the effect of thy

art. Then he gathered up his son and fled; for he said that thou didst

change a quiet trader into an impudent bandier of words with the

Sahibs, and he feared a like fate. Where is the Saddhu?'

'With the polis,' said Kim ... 'Yet I saved the Kamboh's child.'

The lama snuffed blandly.

'Ah, chela, see how thou art overtaken! Thou didst cure the Kamboh's

child solely to acquire merit. But thou didst put a spell on the

Mahratta with prideful workings--I watched thee--and with sidelong

glances to bewilder an old old man and a foolish farmer: whence

calamity and suspicion.'

Kim controlled himself with an effort beyond his years. Not more than

any other youngster did he like to eat dirt or to be misjudged, but he

saw himself in a cleft stick. The train rolled out of Delhi into the

night.

'It is true,' he murmured. 'Where I have offended thee I have done

wrong.'

'It is more, chela. Thou hast loosed an Act upon the world, and as a

stone thrown into a pool so spread the consequences thou canst not tell

how far.'

This ignorance was well both for Kim's vanity and for the lama's peace

of mind, when we think that there was then being handed in at Simla a

code-wire reporting the arrival of E23 at Delhi, and, more important,

the whereabouts of a letter he had been commissioned to--abstract.

Incidentally, an over-zealous policeman had arrested, on charge of

murder done in a far southern State, a horribly indignant Ajmir

cotton-broker, who was explaining himself to a Mr Strickland on Delhi

platform, while E23 was paddling through byways into the locked heart

of Delhi city. In two hours several telegrams had reached the angry

minister of a southern State reporting that all trace of a somewhat

bruised Mahratta had been lost; and by the time the leisurely train

halted at Saharunpore the last ripple of the stone Kim had helped to

heave was lapping against the steps of a mosque in far-away Roum--where

it disturbed a pious man at prayers.

The lama made his in ample form near the dewy bougainvillea-trellis

near the platform, cheered by the clear sunshine and the presence of

his disciple. 'We will put these things behind us,' he said,

indicating the brazen engine and the gleaming track. 'The jolting of

the te-rain--though a wonderful thing--has turned my bones to water.

We will use clean air henceforward.'

'Let us go to the Kulu woman's house' said Kim, and stepped forth

cheerily under the bundles. Early morning Saharunpore-way is clean and

well scented. He thought of the other mornings at St Xavier's, and it

topped his already thrice-heaped contentment.

'Where is this new haste born from? Wise men do not run about like

chickens in the sun. We have come hundreds upon hundreds of koss

already, and, till now, I have scarcely been alone with thee an

instant. How canst thou receive instruction all jostled of crowds? How

can I, whelmed by a flux of talk, meditate upon the Way?'

'Her tongue grows no shorter with the years, then?' the disciple

smiled.

'Nor her desire for charms. I remember once when I spoke of the Wheel

of Life'--the lama fumbled in his bosom for his latest copy--'she was

only curious about the devils that besiege children. She shall acquire

merit by entertaining us--in a little while--at an

after-occasion--softly, softly. Now we will wander loose-foot, waiting

upon the Chain of Things. The Search is sure.'

So they travelled very easily across and among the broad bloomful

fruit-gardens--by way of Aminabad, Sahaigunge, Akrola of the Ford, and

little Phulesa--the line of the Siwaliks always to the north, and

behind them again the snows. After long, sweet sleep under the dry

stars came the lordly, leisurely passage through a waking

village--begging-bowl held forth in silence, but eyes roving in

defiance of the Law from sky's edge to sky's edge. Then would Kim

return soft-footed through the soft dust to his master under the shadow

of a mango-tree or the thinner shade of a white Doon siris, to eat and

drink at ease. At mid-day, after talk and a little wayfaring, they

slept; meeting the world refreshed when the air was cooler. Night

found them adventuring into new territory--some chosen village spied

three hours before across the fat land, and much discussed upon the

road.

There they told their tale--a new one each evening so far as Kim was

concerned--and there were they made welcome, either by priest or

headman, after the custom of the kindly East.

When the shadows shortened and the lama leaned more heavily upon Kim,

there was always the Wheel of Life to draw forth, to hold flat under

wiped stones, and with a long straw to expound cycle by cycle. Here sat

the Gods on high--and they were dreams of dreams. Here was our Heaven

and the world of the demi-Gods--horsemen fighting among the hills.

Here were the agonies done upon the beasts, souls ascending or

descending the ladder and therefore not to be interfered with. Here

were the Hells, hot and cold, and the abodes of tormented ghosts. Let

the chela study the troubles that come from over-eating--bloated

stomach and burning bowels. Obediently, then, with bowed head and

brown finger alert to follow the pointer, did the chela study; but when

they came to the Human World, busy and profitless, that is just above

the Hells, his mind was distracted; for by the roadside trundled the

very Wheel itself, eating, drinking, trading, marrying, and

quarrelling--all warmly alive. Often the lama made the living pictures

the matter of his text, bidding Kim--too ready--note how the flesh

takes a thousand shapes, desirable or detestable as men reckon, but in

truth of no account either way; and how the stupid spirit, bond-slave

to the Hog, the Dove, and the Serpent--lusting after betel-nut, a new

yoke of oxen, women, or the favour of kings--is bound to follow the

body through all the Heavens and all the Hells, and strictly round

again. Sometimes a woman or a poor man, watching the ritual--it was

nothing less--when the great yellow chart was unfolded, would throw a

few flowers or a handful of cowries upon its edge. It sufficed these

humble ones that they had met a Holy One who might be moved to remember

them in his prayers.

'Cure them if they are sick,' said the lama, when Kim's sporting

instincts woke. 'Cure them if they have fever, but by no means work