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umbrella.'

It nodded like a wind-blown harebell down the valleys and round the

mountain sides, and in due time the lama and Kim, who steered by

compass, would overhaul it, vending ointments and powders at eventide.

'We came by such and such a way!' The lama would throw a careless

finger backward at the ridges, and the umbrella would expend itself in

compliments.

They crossed a snowy pass in cold moonlight, when the lama, mildly

chaffing Kim, went through up to his knees, like a Bactrian camel--the

snow-bred, shag-haired sort that came into the Kashmir Serai. They

dipped across beds of light snow and snow-powdered shale, where they

took refuge from a gale in a camp of Tibetans hurrying down tiny sheep,

each laden with a bag of borax. They came out upon grassy shoulders

still snow-speckled, and through forest, to grass anew. For all their

marchings, Kedarnath and Badrinath were not impressed; and it was only

after days of travel that Kim, uplifted upon some insignificant

ten-thousand-foot hummock, could see that a shoulder-knot or horn of

the two great lords had--ever so slightly--changed outline.

At last they entered a world within a world--a valley of leagues where

the high hills were fashioned of a mere rubble and refuse from off the

knees of the mountains. Here one day's march carried them no farther,

it seemed, than a dreamer's clogged pace bears him in a nightmare.

They skirted a shoulder painfully for hours, and, behold, it was but an

outlying boss in an outlying buttress of the main pile! A rounded

meadow revealed itself, when they had reached it, for a vast tableland

running far into the valley. Three days later, it was a dim fold in

the earth to southward.

'Surely the Gods live here!' said Kim, beaten down by the silence and

the appalling sweep and dispersal of the cloud-shadows after rain.

'This is no place for men!'

'Long and long ago,' said the lama, as to himself, 'it was asked of the

Lord whether the world were everlasting. On this the Excellent One

returned no answer ... When I was in Ceylon, a wise Seeker confirmed

that from the gospel which is written in Pali. Certainly, since we

know the way to Freedom, the question were unprofitable, but--look, and

know illusion, chela! These--are the true Hills! They are like my

hills by Suchzen. Never were such hills!'

Above them, still enormously above them, earth towered away towards the

snow-line, where from east to west across hundreds of miles, ruled as

with a ruler, the last of the bold birches stopped. Above that, in

scarps and blocks upheaved, the rocks strove to fight their heads above

the white smother. Above these again, changeless since the world's

beginning, but changing to every mood of sun and cloud, lay out the

eternal snow. They could see blots and blurs on its face where storm

and wandering wullie-wa got up to dance. Below them, as they stood,

the forest slid away in a sheet of blue-green for mile upon mile; below

the forest was a village in its sprinkle of terraced fields and steep

grazing-grounds. Below the village they knew, though a thunderstorm

worried and growled there for the moment, a pitch of twelve or fifteen

hundred feet gave to the moist valley where the streams gather that are

the mothers of young Sutluj.

As usual, the lama had led Kim by cow-track and by-road, far from the

main route along which Hurree Babu, that 'fearful man', had bucketed

three days before through a storm to which nine Englishmen out of ten

would have given full right of way. Hurree was no game-shot--the snick

of a trigger made him change colour--but, as he himself would have

said, he was 'fairly effeecient stalker', and he had raked the huge

valley with a pair of cheap binoculars to some purpose. Moreover, the

white of worn canvas tents against green carries far. Hurree Babu had

seen all he wanted to see when he sat on the threshing-floor of

Ziglaur, twenty miles away as the eagle flies, and forty by road--that

is to say, two small dots which one day were just below the snow-line,

and the next had moved downward perhaps six inches on the hillside.

Once cleaned out and set to the work, his fat bare legs could cover a

surprising amount of ground, and this was the reason why, while Kim and

the lama lay in a leaky hut at Ziglaur till the storm should be

over-past, an oily, wet, but always smiling Bengali, talking the best

of English with the vilest of phrases, was ingratiating himself with

two sodden and rather rheumatic foreigners. He had arrived, revolving

many wild schemes, on the heels of a thunderstorm which had split a

pine over against their camp, and so convinced a dozen or two forcibly

impressed baggage-coolies the day was inauspicious for farther travel

that with one accord they had thrown down their loads and jibbed. They

were subjects of a Hill Rajah who farmed out their services, as is the

custom, for his private gain; and, to add to their personal distresses,

the strange Sahibs had already threatened them with rifles. The most

of them knew rifles and Sahibs of old: they were trackers and

shikarris of the Northern valleys, keen after bear and wild goat; but

they had never been thus treated in their lives. So the forest took

them to her bosom, and, for all oaths and clamour, refused to restore.

There was no need to feign madness or--the Babu had thought of another

means of securing a welcome. He wrung out his wet clothes, slipped on

his patent-leather shoes, opened the blue-and-white umbrella, and with

mincing gait and a heart beating against his tonsils appeared as 'agent

for His Royal Highness, the Rajah of Rampur, gentlemen. What can I do

for you, please?'

The gentlemen were delighted. One was visibly French, the other

Russian, but they spoke English not much inferior to the Babu's. They

begged his kind offices. Their native servants had gone sick at Leh.

They had hurried on because they were anxious to bring the spoils of

the chase to Simla ere the skins grew moth-eaten. They bore a general

letter of introduction (the Babu salaamed to it orientally) to all

Government officials. No, they had not met any other shooting-parties

en route. They did for themselves. They had plenty of supplies. They

only wished to push on as soon as might be. At this he waylaid a

cowering hillman among the trees, and after three minutes' talk and a

little silver (one cannot be economical upon State service, though

Hurree's heart bled at the waste) the eleven coolies and the three

hangers-on reappeared. At least the Babu would be a witness to their

oppression.

'My royal master, he will be much annoyed, but these people are onlee

common people and grossly ignorant. If your honours will kindly

overlook unfortunate affair, I shall be much pleased. In a little

while rain will stop and we can then proceed. You have been shooting,

eh? That is fine performance!'

He skipped nimbly from one kilta to the next, making pretence to adjust

each conical basket. The Englishman is not, as a rule, familiar with

the Asiatic, but he would not strike across the wrist a kindly Babu who

had accidentally upset a kilta with a red oilskin top. On the other

hand, he would not press drink upon a Babu were he never so friendly,

nor would he invite him to meat. The strangers did all these things,

and asked many questions--about women mostly--to which Hurree returned

gay and unstudied answers. They gave him a glass of whitish fluid like

to gin, and then more; and in a little time his gravity departed from