Part 17 (2/2)

'Of course it is You say: ”Let me see the tarkeean” Then I say: ”It was cooked by a woman, and perhaps it is bad for your caste” Then you say: ”There is no caste when o to - look for tarkeean” You stop a little between those words, ”to - look” That is thee whole secret The little stop before the words'

Kiht Then I will show you my turquoise if there is tie views and docus And so it is with any other man of us We talk sometimes about turquoises and sometimes about tarkeean, but alith that little stop in the words It is verree easy First, ”Son of the Charht place Perhaps that may help you - perhaps not Then what I have told you about the tarkeean, if you want to transact offeecial business with a strange man Of course, at present, you have no offeecial business You are - ah ha! - supernumerary on probation Quite unique speciht off; but this half-year of leave is to lishi+zed, you see? The lama he expects you, because I have demi-offeecially informed him you have passed all your examinations, and will soon obtain Govern-allowance, you see: so if you are called upon to help Sons of the Charood-bye, my dear fellow, and I hope you - ah - will coht'

Hurree Babu stepped back a pace or two into the crowd at the entrance of Lucknow station and -- was gone Kied himself all over The nickel-plated revolver he could feel in the bosoing-gourd, rosary, and ghost-dagger (Mr Lurgan had forgotten nothing) were all to hand, with medicine, paint-box, and compass, and in a worn old purse-belt embroidered with porcupine- quill patterns lay a ht sweetlad rapture till a policeman ordered him off the steps

Chapter ll

Give the ain, Coins to ring and snatch again, Men to harain - He'll be hurt by his own blade, By his serpents disobeyed, By his clumsiness bewrayed,' By the people ler born! Pinch of dust or withered flower, Chance-flung fruit or borrowed staff, Serve his need and shore his power, Bind the spell, or loose the laugh! But a , op 15 Followed a sudden natural reaction

'Now aht 'In all India is no one so alone as I! If I die today, who shall bring the news -and to whoood, there will be a price upon my head, for I am a Son of the Charm - I, Kim'

A very fehite people, but many Asiatics, can throw the their own nao free upon speculation as to what is called personal identity When one grows older, the power, usually, departs, but while it lasts it may descend upon a man at any moment

'Who is Ki waiting-roohts; hands folded in lap, and pupils contracted to pin- points In a minute - in another half-second - he felt he would arrive at the solution of the tremendous puzzle; but here, as always happens, his hts with a rush of a wounded bird, and passing his hand before his eyes, he shook his head

A long-haired Hindu bairagi [holy ht a ticket, halted before him at that moment and stared intently

'I also have lost it,' he said sadly 'It is one of the Gates to the Way, but for me it has been shut many years'

'What is the talk?' said Ki there in thy spirit what ht be The seizure caoest thou?'

'Toward Kashi+ [Benares]'

'There are no Gods there I have proved the the Road to Enlightenment Of what faith art thou?'

'I too a one of the laot his Northern dress for the h Allah alone knohat I seek'

The old fellow slipped the bairagi's crutch under his armpit and sat down on a patch of ruddy leopard's skin as Kim rose at the call for the Benares train

'Go in hope, little brother,' he said 'It is a long road to the feet of the One; but thither do we all travel'

Kim did not feel so lonely after this, and ere he had sat out twenty hbours with a string of ifts

Benares struck hih it was pleasant to find how his cloth was respected At least one-third of the population prays eternally to soroup or other of the many million deities, and so reveres every sort of holy uided to the Temple of the Tirthankars, about a mile outside the city, near Sarnath, by a chance-met Punjabi farmer - a Kamboh from Jullundur-ho had appealed in vain to every God of his ho Benares as a last resort

'Thou art froh the press of the narrow, stinking streets much like his own pet bull at home

'Ay, I know the Punjab My mother was a pahareen, buthis ready tongue for the needs of the Road

'Jandiala - Jullundur? Oho! Then we be neighbours in so child in his arms 'Whom dost thou serve?'

'A most holy man at the Temple of the Tirthankers'

'They are all reedy,' said the Jat with bitterness 'I have walked the pillars and trodden the temples till my feet are flayed, and the child is no whit better And the ed his nairl's clothes There was nothing we did not do, except - I said to his mother when she bundled me off to Benares -she should have come with me - I said Sakhi Sarwar Sultan would serve us best We know His generosity, but these down-country Gods are strangers'

The child turned on the cushi+on of the huge corded arh heavy eyelids

'And was it all worthless?' Kim asked, with easy interest

'All worthless - all worthless,' said the child, lips cracking with fever

'The Gods have given hiood mind, at least' said the father proudly 'To think he should have listened so cleverly Yonder is thy Temple Now I am a poor man - many priests have dealt with ift to thy master can cure him - I am atwith pride Three years ago he would have one his ithout a thought; but now, the very respect the Jat paid him proved that he was a man Moreover, he had tasted fever once or twice already, and knew enough to recognize starvation when he saw it

'Call hiive him a bond on my best yoke, so that the child is cured'

Kim halted at the carved outer door of the temple A white-clad Oswal banker from Ajmir, his sins of usury neiped out, asked him what he did

'I am chela to Teshoo Lama, an Holy One from Bhotiyal -within there He bade et the child,' cried the importunate Jat over his shoulder, and then bellowed in Punjabi; 'O Holy One - O disciple of the Holy One - O Gods above all the Worlds -behold affliction sitting at the gate!' That cry is so common in Benares that the passers never turned their heads

The Oswal, at peace with e into the darkness behind him, and the easy, uncounted Eastern minutes slid by; for the lama was asleep in his cell, and no priest would wake hiain broke the hush of the inner court where the cales of the Arhats stand, a novice whispered, 'Thy chela is here,' and the oldthe end of that prayer

Hardly had the tall figure shown in the doorway than the Jat ran before hi up the child, cried: 'Look upon this, Holy One; and if the Gods will, he lives - he lives!'

He fumbled in his waist-belt and drew out a small silver coin

'What is now?' The lama's eyes turned to Kio, under ZamZammah; but father would allow no private talk

'It is no more than a fever,' said Kim 'The child is not well fed'

'He sickens at everything, and his mother is not here'

'If it be permitted, I may cure, Holy One'

'What! Have they made thee a healer? Wait here,' said the lama, and he sat down by the Jat upon the lowest step of the te out of the corner of his eyes, slowly opened the little betel-box He had drea to the la the old man before he revealed himself - boy's dreams all There was h the tabloid-bottles, with a pause here and there for thought and a muttered invocation bethiles Quinine he had in tablets, and dark brown es - beefwould not eat, but it sucked at a lozenge greedily, and said it liked the salt taste

'Take then these six' Kim handed them to the man 'Praise the Gods, and boil three in ive him this' (it was the half of a quinine pill), 'and wrap him warm Give him the water of the other three, and the other half of this white pill when he wakes Meantime, here is another brown medicine that he may suck at on the way home'

'Gods, isdo

It was as much as Kim could remember of his own treatment in a bout of autumn malaria - if you except the patter that he added to i'