Adventure stories; Boys -- Fiction; India -- Fiction; Irish -- India -- Fiction; Lamas -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Spy stories
Lurgan Sahib did not use as direct speech, but his advice tallied with
Mahbub’s; and the upshot was good for Kim. He knew better now than to
leave Lucknow city in native garb, and if Mahbub were anywhere within
reach of a letter, it was to Mahbub’s camp he headed, and made his
change under the Pathan’s wary eye. Could the little Survey paint-box
that he used for map-tinting in term-time have found a tongue to tell
of holiday doings, he might have been expelled. Once Mahbub and he went
together as far as the beautiful city of Bombay, with three truckloads
of tram-horses, and Mahbub nearly melted when Kim proposed a sail in a
dhow across the Indian Ocean to buy Gulf Arabs, which, he understood
from a hanger-on of the dealer Abdul Rahman, fetched better prices than
mere Kabulis.
He dipped his hand into the dish with that great trader when Mahbub and
a few co-religionists were invited to a big Haj dinner. They came back
by way of Karachi by sea, when Kim took his first experience of
sea-sickness sitting on the fore-hatch of a coasting-steamer, well
persuaded he had been poisoned. The Babu’s famous drug-box proved
useless, though Kim had restocked it at Bombay. Mahbub had business at
Quetta, and there Kim, as Mahbub admitted, earned his keep, and perhaps
a little over, by spending four curious days as scullion in the house
of a fat Commissariat sergeant, from whose office-box, in an auspicious
moment, he removed a little vellum ledger which he copied out—it seemed
to deal entirely with cattle and camel sales—by moonlight, lying behind
an outhouse, all through one hot night. Then he returned the ledger to
its place, and, at Mahbub’s word, left that service unpaid, rejoining
him six miles down the road, the clean copy in his bosom.
“That soldier is a small fish,” Mahbub Ali explained, “but in time we
shall catch the larger one. He only sells oxen at two prices—one for
himself and one for the Government—which I do not think is a sin.”
“Why could not I take away the little book and be done with it?”
“Then he would have been frightened, and he would have told his master.
Then we should miss, perhaps, a great number of new rifles which seek
their way up from Quetta to the North. The Game is so large that one
sees but a little at a time.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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