Adventure stories; Boys -- Fiction; India -- Fiction; Irish -- India -- Fiction; Lamas -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Spy stories
'He--we--went to the Ajaib-Gher in Lahore to pray before the gods
there,' Kim explained to the openly listening company. 'And the Sahib of
the Wonder House talked to him--yes, this is truth--as a brother. He is
a Very holy man, from far beyond the hills. Rest thou. In time we come
to Umballa.'
'But my River--the River of my healing?'
'And then, if it please thee, we will go hunting for that River on foot.
So that we miss nothing--not even a little rivulet in a field-side.'
'But thou hast a Search of thine own?' The lama--very pleased that he
remembered so well--sat bolt upright.
'Ay,' said Kim, humouring him. The boy was entirely happy to be out
chewing pan and seeing new people in the great good-tempered world.
'It was a Bull--a Red Bull that shall come and help thee--and carry
thee--whither? I have forgotten. A Red Bull on a green field, was it
not?'
'Nay, it will carry me nowhere,' said Kim. 'It is but a tale I told
thee.'
'What is this?' the cultivator's wife leaned forward, her bracelets
clinking on her arm. 'Do ye both dream dreams? A Red Bull on a green
field, that shall carry thee to the Heavens--or what? Was it a vision?
Did one make a prophecy? We have a Red Bull in our village behind
Jullundur city, and he grazes by choice in the very greenest of our
fields!'
'Give a woman an old wife's tale and a weaver-bird a leaf and a thread,
they will weave wonderful things,' said the Sikh. 'All holy men dream
dreams, and by following holy men their disciples attain that power.'
'A Red Bull on a green field, was it?' the lama repeated. 'In a former
life it may be thou hast acquired merit, and the Bull will come to
reward thee.'
'Nay--nay--it was but a tale one told to me--for a jest belike. But I
will seek the Bull about Umballa, and thou canst look for thy River and
rest from the clatter of the train.'
'It may be that the Bull knows--that he is sent to guide us both,' said
the lama, hopefully as a child. Then to the company, indicating Kim:
'This one was sent to me but yesterday. He is not, I think, of this
world.'
'Beggars a plenty have I met, and holy men to boot, but never such a
yogi nor such a disciple,' said the woman.
Her husband touched his forehead lightly with one finger and smiled. But
the next time the lama would eat they took care to give him their best.
And at last--tired, sleepy, and dusty--they reached Umballa City
Station.
'We abide here upon a law-suit,' said the cultivator's wife to Kim. 'We
lodge with my man's cousin's younger brother. There is room also in the
courtyard for thy yogi and for thee. Will--will he give me a blessing?'
'O holy man! A woman with a heart of gold gives us lodging for the
night. It is a kindly land, this land of the South. See how we have been
helped since the dawn!'
The lama bowed his head in benediction.
'To fill my cousin's younger brother's house with wastrels--' the
husband began, as he shouldered his heavy bamboo staff.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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