“She asked me many questions and propounded many problems—the most of which were idle tales which she had heard from devil-serving priests who pretend to follow the Way. Some I answered, and some I said were foolish. Many wear the Robe, but few keep the Way.” “True. That is true.” Kim used the thoughtful, conciliatory tone of those who wish to draw confidences. “But by her lights she is most right-minded. She desires greatly that we should go with her to Buddh Gaya; her road being ours, as I understand, for many days’ journey to the southward.” “And?” “Patience a little. To this I said that my Search came before all things. She had heard many foolish legends, but this great truth of my River she had never heard. Such are the priests of the lower hills! She knew the Abbot of Lung-Cho, but she did not know of my River—nor the tale of the Arrow.” “And?” “I spoke therefore of the Search, and of the Way, and of matters that were profitable; she desiring only that I should accompany her and make prayer for a second son.” “Aha! ‘We women’ do _not_ think of anything save children,” said Kim sleepily. “Now, since our roads run together for a while, I do not see that we in any way depart from our Search if so be we accompany her—at least as far as—I have forgotten the name of the city.” “Ohé!” said Kim, turning and speaking in a sharp whisper to one of the Ooryas a few yards away. “Where is your master’s house?” “A little behind Saharunpore, among the fruit gardens.” He named the village. “That was the place,” said the lama. “So far, at least, we can go with her.” “Flies go to carrion,” said the Oorya, in an abstracted voice. “For the sick cow a crow; for the sick man a Brahmin.” Kim breathed the proverb impersonally to the shadow-tops of the trees overhead. The Oorya grunted and held his peace. “So then we go with her, Holy One?” “Is there any reason against? I can still step aside and try all the rivers that the road overpasses. She desires that I should come. She very greatly desires it.” Kim stifled a laugh in the quilt. When once that imperious old lady had recovered from her natural awe of a lama he thought it probable that she would be worth listening to. He was nearly asleep when the lama suddenly quoted a proverb: “The husbands of the talkative have a great reward hereafter.” Then Kim heard him snuff thrice, and dozed off, still laughing.