Kim

and perfect is the Wheel, swerving not a hair. When I was a man--a

long time ago--I did pilgrimage to Guru Ch'wan among the poplars' (he

pointed Bhotanwards), 'where they keep the Sacred Horse.'

'Quiet, be quiet!' said Shamlegh, all arow. 'He speaks of

Jam-lin-nin-k'or, the Horse That Can Go Round The World In a Day.'

'I speak to my chela only,' said the lama, in gentle reproof, and they

scattered like frost on south eaves of a morning. 'I did not seek

truth in those days, but the talk of doctrine. All illusion! I drank

the beer and ate the bread of Guru Ch'wan. Next day one said: "We go

out to fight Sangor Gutok down the valley to discover" (mark again how

Lust is tied to Anger!) "which Abbot shall bear rule in the valley and

take the profit of the prayers they print at Sangor Gutok." I went,

and we fought a day.'

'But how, Holy One?'

'With our long pencases as I could have shown ... I say, we fought

under the poplars, both Abbots and all the monks, and one laid open my

forehead to the bone. See!' He tilted back his cap and showed a

puckered silvery scar. 'Just and perfect is the Wheel! Yesterday the

scar itched, and after fifty years I recalled how it was dealt and the

face of him who dealt it; dwelling a little in illusion. Followed that

which thou didst see--strife and stupidity. Just is the Wheel! The

idolater's blow fell upon the scar. Then I was shaken in my souclass="underline" my

soul was darkened, and the boat of my soul rocked upon the waters of

illusion. Not till I came to Shamlegh could I meditate upon the Cause

of Things, or trace the running grass-roots of Evil. I strove all the

long night.'

'But, Holy One, thou art innocent of all evil. May I be thy sacrifice!'

Kim was genuinely distressed at the old man's sorrow, and Mahbub Ali's

phrase slipped out unawares.

'In the dawn,' the lama went on more gravely, ready rosary clicking

between the slow sentences, 'came enlightenment. It is here ... I am

an old man ... hill-bred, hill-fed, never to sit down among my Hills.

Three years I travelled through Hind, but--can earth be stronger than

Mother Earth? My stupid body yearned to the Hills and the snows of the

Hills, from below there. I said, and it is true, my Search is sure.

So, at the Kulu woman's house I turned hillward, over-persuaded by

myself. There is no blame to the hakim. He--following

Desire--foretold that the Hills would make me strong. They strengthened

me to do evil, to forget my Search. I delighted in life and the lust

of life. I desired strong slopes to climb. I cast about to find them.

I measured the strength of my body, which is evil, against the high

Hills, I made a mock of thee when thy breath came short under Jamnotri.

I jested when thou wouldst not face the snow of the pass.'

'But what harm? I was afraid. It was just. I am not a hillman; and I

loved thee for thy new strength.'

'More than once I remember'--he rested his cheek dolefully on his

hand--'I sought thy praise and the hakim's for the mere strength of my

legs. Thus evil followed evil till the cup was full. Just is the

Wheel! All Hind for three years did me all honour. From the Fountain

of Wisdom in the Wonder House to'--he smiled--'a little child playing

by a big gun--the world prepared my road. And why?'

'Because we loved thee. It is only the fever of the blow. I myself am

still sick and shaken.'

'No! It was because I was upon the Way--tuned as are si-nen [cymbals]

to the purpose of the Law. I departed from that ordinance. The tune

was broken: followed the punishment. In my own Hills, on the edge of

my own country, in the very place of my evil desire, comes the

buffet--here!' (He touched his brow.) 'As a novice is beaten when he

misplaces the cups, so am I beaten, who was Abbot of Such-zen. No

word, look you, but a blow, chela.'

'But the Sahibs did not know thee, Holy One?'

'We were well matched. Ignorance and Lust met Ignorance and Lust upon

the road, and they begat Anger. The blow was a sign to me, who am no

better than a strayed yak, that my place is not here. Who can read the

Cause of an act is halfway to Freedom! "Back to the path," says the

Blow. "The Hills are not for thee. Thou canst not choose Freedom and

go in bondage to the delight of life."'

'Would we had never met that cursed Russian!'

'Our Lord Himself cannot make the Wheel swing backward. And for my

merit that I had acquired I gain yet another sign.' He put his hand in

his bosom, and drew forth the Wheel of Life. 'Look! I considered this

after I had meditated. There remains untorn by the idolater no more

than the breadth of my fingernail.'

'I see.'

'So much, then, is the span of my life in this body. I have served the

Wheel all my days. Now the Wheel serves me. But for the merit I have

acquired in guiding thee upon the Way, there would have been added to

me yet another life ere I had found my River. Is it plain, chela?'

Kim stared at the brutally disfigured chart. From left to right

diagonally the rent ran--from the Eleventh House where Desire gives

birth to the Child (as it is drawn by Tibetans)--across the human and

animal worlds, to the Fifth House--the empty House of the Senses. The

logic was unanswerable.

'Before our Lord won Enlightenment'--the lama folded all away with

reverence--'He was tempted. I too have been tempted, but it is

finished. The Arrow fell in the Plains--not in the Hills. Therefore,

what make we here?'

'Shall we at least wait for the hakim?'

'I know how long I shall live in this body. What can a hakim do?'

'But thou art all sick and shaken. Thou canst not walk.'

'How can I be sick if I see Freedom?' He rose unsteadily to his feet.

'Then I must get food from the village. Oh, the weary Road!' Kim felt

that he too needed rest.

'That is lawful. Let us eat and go. The Arrow fell in the Plains ...

but I yielded to Desire. Make ready, chela.'

Kim turned to the woman with the turquoise headgear who had been idly

pitching pebbles over the cliff. She smiled very kindly.

'I found him like a strayed buffalo in a cornfield--the Babu; snorting

and sneezing with cold. He was so hungry that he forgot his dignity

and gave me sweet words. The Sahibs have nothing.' She flung out an

empty palm. 'One is very sick about the stomach. Thy work?'

Kim nodded, with a bright eye.

'I spoke to the Bengali first--and to the people of a near-by village

after. The Sahibs will be given food as they need it--nor will the

people ask money. The plunder is already distributed. The Babu makes

lying speeches to the Sahibs. Why does he not leave them?'

'Out of the greatness of his heart.'

'Was never a Bengali yet had one bigger than a dried walnut. But it is

no matter ... Now as to walnuts. After service comes reward. I have

said the village is thine.'

'It is my loss,' Kim began. 'Even now I had planned desirable things

in my heart which'--there is no need to go through the compliments

proper to these occasions. He sighed deeply ... 'But my master, led

by a vision--'

'Huh! What can old eyes see except a full begging-bowl?'

'--turns from this village to the Plains again.'

'Bid him stay.'

Kim shook his head. 'I know my Holy One, and his rage if he be

crossed,' he replied impressively. 'His curses shake the Hills.'

'Pity they did not save him from a broken head! I heard that thou wast

the tiger-hearted one who smote the Sahib. Let him dream a little

longer. Stay!'