第3章
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  `Andwhendostthougo?’TheCuratorsmiledatthemixtureofold-worldpietyandmodernprogressthatisthenoteofIndiatoday。

  `Assoonasmaybe。IfollowtheplacesofHislifetillIcometotheRiveroftheArrow。Thereis,moreover,awrittenpaperofthehoursofthetrainsthatgosouth。’

  `Andforfood?’Lamas,asarule,havegoodstoreofmoneysomewhereaboutthem,buttheCuratorwishedtomakesure。

  `Forthejourney,ItakeuptheMaster’sbegging-bowl。Yes。EvenasHewentsogoI,forsakingtheeaseofmymonastery。TherewaswithmewhenIleftthehillsachela[disciple]whobeggedformeastheRuledemands,buthaltinginKuluawhileafevertookhimandhedied。

  Ihavenownochela,butIwilltakethealms-bowlandthusenablethecharitabletoacquiremerit。’Henoddedhisheadvaliantly。Learneddoctorsofalamasserydonotbeg,butthelamawasanenthusiastinthisquest。

  `Beitso,’saidtheCurator,smiling。`Suffermenowtoacquiremerit。

  Webecraftsmentogether,thouandI。HereisanewbookofwhiteEnglishpaper:herebesharpenedpencilstwoandthree-thickandthin,allgoodforascribe。Nowlendmethyspectacles。’

  TheCuratorlookedthroughthem。Theywereheavilyscratched,butthepowerwasalmostexactlythatofhisownpair,whichheslidintothelama’shand,saying:`Trythese。’

  `Afeather!Averyfeatherupontheface!’Theoldmanturnedhisheaddelightedlyandwrinkleduphisnose。`HowscarcelydoIfeelthem!HowclearlydoIsee!’

  `Theybebilaur-crystal-andwillneverscratch。MaytheyhelptheetothyRiver,fortheyarethine。’

  `Iwilltakethemandthepencilsandthewhitenote-book,’saidthelama,`asasignoffriendshipbetweenpriestandpriest-andnow-’

  Hefumbledathisbelt,detachedtheopen-workironpencase,andlaiditontheCurator’stable。`Thatisforamemorybetweentheeandme-mypencase。Itissomethingold-evenasIam。’

  Itwasapieceofancientdesign,Chinese,ofanironthatisnotsmeltedthesedays;andthecollector’sheartintheCurator’sbosomhadgoneouttoitfromthefirst。Fornopersuasionwouldthelamaresumehisgift。

  `WhenIreturn,havingfoundtheRiver,IwillbringtheeawrittenpictureofthePadmaSamthorasuchasIusedtomakeonsilkatthelamassery。

  Yes-andoftheWheelofLife,’hechuckled,`forwebecraftsmentogether,thouandI。’

  TheCuratorwouldhavedetainedhim:theyarefewintheworldwhostillhavethesecretoftheconventionalbrush-penBuddhistpictureswhichare,asitwere,halfwrittenandhalfdrawn。Butthelamastrodeout,headhighinair,andpausinganinstantbeforethegreatstatueofaBodhisatinmeditation,brushedthroughtheturnstiles。

  Kimfollowedlikeashadow。Whathehadoverheardexcitedhimwildly。

  Thismanwasentirelynewtoallhisexperience,andhemeanttoinvestigatefurther,preciselyashewouldhaveinvestigatedanewbuildingorastrangefestivalinLahorecity。Thelamawashistrove,andhepurposedtotakepossession。Kim’smotherhadbeenIrishtoo。

  TheoldmanhaltedbyZam-ZammahandlookedroundtillhiseyefellonKim。Theinspirationofhispilgrimagehadlefthimforawhile,andhefeltold,forlorn,andveryempty。

  `Donotsitunderthatgun,’saidthepolicemanloftily。

  `Huh!Owl!’wasKim’sretortonthelama’sbehalf。`Situnderthatgunifitpleasethee。Whendidstthoustealthemilk-woman’sslippers,Dunnoo?’

  Thatwasanutterlyunfoundedchargesprungonthespurofthemoment,butitsilencedDunnoo,whoknewthatKim’sclearyellcouldcalluplegionsofbadbazarboysifneedarose。

  `Andwhomdidstthouworshipwithin?’saidKimaffably,squattingintheshadebesidethelama。

  `Iworshippednone,child。IbowedbeforetheExcellentLaw。’

  KimacceptedthisnewGodwithoutemotion。Heknewalreadyafewscore。

  `Andwhatdostthoudo?’

  `Ibeg。IremembernowitislongsinceIhaveeatenordrunk。Whatisthecustomofcharityinthistown?Insilence,aswedoofTibet,orspeakingaloud?’

  `Thosewhobeginsilencestarveinsilence,’saidKim,quotinganativeproverb。Thelamatriedtorise,butsankbackagain,sighingforhisdisciple,deadinfar-awayKulu。Kimwatched-headtooneside,consideringandinterested。

  `Givemethebowl。Iknowthepeopleofthiscity-allwhoarecharitable。

  Give,andIwillbringitbackfilled。’

  Simplyasachildtheoldmanhandedhimthebowl。

  `Rest,thou。Iknowthepeople。’

  Hetrottedofftotheopenshopofakunjri,alow-castevegetable-seller,whichlayoppositethebelt-tramwaylinedowntheMoteeBazar。SheknewKimofold。

  `Oho,hastthouturnedyogiwiththybegging-bowl?’shecried。

  `Nay,’saidKimproudly。`ThereisanewpriestinthecityamansuchasIhaveneverseen。’

  `Oldpriest-youngtiger,’saidthewomanangrily。`Iamtiredofnewpriests!Theysettleonourwareslikeflies。Isthefatherofmysonawellofcharitytogivetoallwhoask?’

  `No,’saidKim。`Thymanisratheryagi[bad-tempered]thanyogi[aholyman]。Butthispriestisnew。TheSahibintheWonderHousehastalkedtohimlikeabrother。Omymother,fillmethisbowl。Hewaits。’

  `Thatbowlindeed!Thatcow-belliedbasket!ThouhastasmuchgraceastheholybullofShiv。Hehastakenthebestofabasketofonionsalready,thismorn;andforsooth,Imustfillthybowl。Hecomeshereagain。’

  Thehuge,mouse-colouredBrahminibullofthewardwasshoulderinghiswaythroughthemany-colouredcrowd,astolenplantainhangingoutofhismouth。Heheadedstraightfortheshop,wellknowinghisprivilegesasasacredbeast,loweredhishead,andpuffedheavilyalongthelineofbasketseremakinghischoice。UpflewKim’shardlittleheelandcaughthimonhismoistbluenose。Hesnortedindignantly,andwalkedawayacrossthetram-rails,hishumpquiveringwithrage。

  `See!Ihavesavedmorethanthebowlwillcostthriceover。Now,mother,alittlericeandsomedriedfishatop-yes,andsomevegetablecurry。’

  Agrowlcameoutofthebackoftheshop,whereamanlay。

  `Hedroveawaythebull,’saidthewomaninanundertone。`Itisgoodtogivetothepoor。’Shetookthebowlandreturneditfullofhotrice。

  `Butmyyogiisnotacow,’saidKimgravely,makingaholewithhisfingersinthetopofthemound。`Alittlecurryisgood,andafriedcake,andamorselofconservewouldpleasehim,Ithink。’

  `Itisaholeasbigasthyhead,’saidthewomanfretfully。Butshefilledit,nonetheless,withgood,steamingvegetablecurry,clappedafriedcakeatop,andamorselofclarifiedbutteronthecake,dabbedalumpofsourtamarindconserveattheside;andKimlookedattheloadlovingly。

  `Thatisgood。WhenIaminthebazarthebullshallnotcometothishouse。Heisaboldbeggar-man。’

  `Andthou?’laughedthewoman。`Butspeakwellofbulls。HastthounottoldmethatsomedayaRedBullwillcomeoutofafieldtohelpthee?

  Nowholdallstraightandaskfortheholyman’sblessinguponme。Perhaps,too,heknowsacureformydaughter’ssoreeyes。Askhimthatalso,O

  thouLittleFriendofalltheWorld。’

  ButKimhaddancedofferetheendofthesentence,dodgingpariahdogsandhungryacquaintances。

  `Thusdowebegwhoknowthewayofit,’saidheproudlytothelama,whoopenedhiseyesatthecontentsofthebowl。`Eatnowand-Iwilleatwiththee。Ohé,bhisti!’hecalledtothewater-carrier,sluicingthecrotonsbytheMuseum。`Givewaterhere。Wemenarethirsty。’

  `Wemen!’saidthebhisti,laughing。`Isoneskinfulenoughforsuchapair?Drink,then,inthenameoftheCompassionate。’

  HeloosedathinstreamintoKim’shands,whodranknative-fashion;

  butthelamamustneedspulloutacupfromhisinexhaustibleupperdraperiesanddrinkceremonially。

  `Pardesi[aforeigner],’Kimexplained,astheoldmandeliveredinanunknowntonguewhatwasevidentlyablessing。

  Theyatetogetheringreatcontent,clearingthebegging-bowl。Thenthelamatooksnufffromaportentouswoodensnuff-gourd,fingeredhisrosaryawhile,andsodroppedintotheeasysleepofage,astheshadowofZam-Zammahgrewlong。

  Kimloafedovertothenearesttobacco-seller,aratherlivelyyoungMohammedanwoman,andbeggedarankcigarofthebrandthattheyselltostudentsofthePunjabUniversitywhocopyEnglishcustoms。Thenhesmokedandthought,kneestochin,underthebellyofthegun,andtheoutcomeofhisthoughtswasasuddenandstealthydepartureinthedirectionofNilaRam’stimber-yard。

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