`It’shereorhereabouts-officers’tentsunderthetrees，Itakeit，an’therestofuscanstayoutside。Havetheymarkedoutforthebaggage-wagonsbehind？’
Theycriedagaintotheircomradesinthedistance，andtheroughanswercamebackfaintandmellowed。
`Shovetheflaginhere，then，’saidone。
`Whatdotheyprepare？’saidthelama，wonderstruck。`Thisisagreatandterribleworld。Whatisthedeviceontheflag？’
Asoldierthrustastavewithinafewfeetofthem，grunteddiscontentedly，pulleditupagain，conferredwithhiscompanion，wholookedupanddowntheshadedcaveofgreenery，andreturnedit。
Kimstaredwithallhiseyes，hisbreathcomingshortandsharpbetweenhisteeth。Thesoldiersstampedoffintothesunshine。
`OHolyOne！’hegasped。`Myhoroscope！ThedrawinginthedustbythepriestatUmballa！Rememberwhathesaid。Firstcometwo-ferashes-tomakeallthingsready-inadarkplace，asitisalwaysatthebeginningofavision。’
`Butthisisnotvision，’saidthelama。`Itistheworld’sIllusion，andnomore。’
`AndafterthemcomestheBull-theRedBullonthegreenfield。Look！
Itishe！’
Hepointedtotheflagthatwassnap-snappingintheeveningbreezenottenfeetaway。Itwasnomorethananordinarycampmarking-flag；buttheregiment，alwayspunctiliousinmattersofmillinery，hadchargeditwiththeregimentaldevice，theRedBull，whichisthecrestoftheMavericks-thegreatRedBullonabackgroundofIrishgreen。
`Isee，andnowIremember，’saidthelama。`CertainlyitisthyBull。
Certainly，also，thetwomencametomakeallready。’
`Theyaresoldiers-whitesoldiers。Whatsaidthepriest？`ThesignoveragainsttheBullisthesignofWarandarmedmen。’HolyOne，thisthingtouchesmySearch。’
`True。Itistrue。’Thelamastaredfixedlyatthedevicethatflamedlikearubyinthedusk。`ThepriestatUmballasaidthatthinewasthesignofWar。’
`Whatistodonow？’
`Wait。Letuswait。’
`Evennowthedarknessclears，’saidKim。Itwasonlynaturalthatthedescendingsunshouldatlaststrikethroughthetree-trunks，acrossthegrove，fillingitwithmealygoldlightforafewminutes；buttoKimitwasthecrownoftheUmballaBrahmin’sprophecy。
`Hark！’saidthelama。`Onebeatsadrum-faroff！’
Atfirstthesound，carryingdilutedthroughthestillair，resembledthebeatingofanarteryinthehead。Soonasharpnesswasadded。
`Ah！Themusic，’Kimexplained。Heknewthesoundofaregimentalband，butitamazedthelama。
Atthefarendoftheplainaheavy，dustycolumncrawledinsight。
Thenthewindbroughtthetune：
WecraveyourcondescensionTotellyouwhatweknowOfmarchingintheMulliganGuardsToSligoPortbelow！
Herebrokeintheshrill-tonguedfifes：
Weshoulderedarms，Wemarched-wemarchedaway。
FromPhoenixParkWemarchedtoDublinBay。
Thedrumsandthefifes，Oh，sweetlytheydidplay，Aswemarched-marched-marched-withtheMulliganGuards！ItwasthebandoftheMavericksplayingtheregimenttocamp；forthemenwereroute-marchingwiththeirbaggage。Theripplingcolumnswungintothelevel-cartsbehindit-dividedleftandright，ranaboutlikeanant-hill，and……
`Butthisissorcery！’saidthelama。
Theplaindotteditselfwithtentsthatseemedtorise，allspread，fromthecarts。Anotherrushofmeninvadedthegrove，pitchedahugetentinsilence，ranupyeteightorninemorebythesideofit，unearthedcooking-pots，pans，andbundles，whichweretakenpossessionofbyacrowdofnativeservants；andbeholdthemango-topeturnedintoanorderlytownastheywatched！
`Letusgo，’saidthelama，sinkingbackafraid，asthefirestwinkledandwhiteofficerswithjinglingswordsstalkedintotheMess-tent。
`Standbackintheshadow。Noonecanseebeyondthelightofafire，’
saidKim，hiseyesstillontheflag。Hehadneverbeforewatchedtheroutineofaseasonedregimentpitchingcampinthirtyminutes。
`Look！look！look！’cluckedthelama。`Yondercomesapriest。’ItwasBennett，theChurchofEnglandChaplainoftheregiment，limpingindustyblack。OneofhisflockhadmadesomeruderemarksabouttheChaplain’smettle；andtoabashhimBennetthadmarchedstepbystepwiththementhatday。Theblackdress，goldcrossonthewatch-chain，thehairlessface，andthesoft，blackwide-awakehatwouldhavemarkedhimasaholymananywhereinallIndia。Hedroppedintoacamp-chairbythedooroftheMess-tentandslidoffhisboots。Threeorfourofficersgatheredroundhim，laughingandjokingoverhisexploit。
`Thetalkofwhitemeniswhollylackingindignity，’saidthelama，whojudgedonlybytone。`ButIconsideredthecountenanceofthatpriestandIthinkheislearned。Isitlikelythathewillunderstandourtalk？
IwouldtalktohimofmySearch。’
`Neverspeaktoawhitemantillheisfed，’saidKim，quotingawell-knownproverb。`Theywilleatnow，and-andIdonotthinktheyaregoodtobegfrom。Letusgobacktotheresting-place。Afterwehaveeatenwewillcomeagain。ItcertainlywasaRedBull-myRedBull。’
Theywerebothnoticeablyabsent-mindedwhentheoldlady’sretinuesettheirmealbeforethem；sononebroketheirreserve，foritisnotluckytoannoyguests。
`Now，’saidKim，pickinghisteeth，`wewillreturntothatplace；butthou，OHolyOne，mustwaitalittlewayoff，becausethyfeetareheavierthanmineandIamanxioustoseemoreofthatRedBull。’
`Buthowcanstthouunderstandthetalk？Walkslowly。Theroadisdark，’
thelamareplieduneasily。
Kimputthequestionaside。`Imarkedaplaceneartothetrees，’saidhe，`wherethoucanstsittillIcall。Nay，’asthelamamadesomesortofprotest，`rememberthisismySearch-theSearchformyRedBull。ThesignintheStarswasnotforthee。Iknowalittleofthecustomsofwhitesoldiers，andIalwaysdesiretoseesomenewthings。’
`Whatdostthounotknowofthisworld？’Thelamasquattedobedientlyinalittlehollowofthegroundnotahundredyardsfromthehumpofthemango-treesdarkagainstthestar-powderedsky。
`StaytillIcall。’Kimflittedintothedusk。Heknewthatinallprobabilitytherewouldbesentriesroundthecamp，andsmiledtohimselfasheheardthethickbootsofone。AboywhocandodgeovertheroofsofLahorecityonamoonlightnight，usingeverylittlepatchandcornerofdarknesstodiscomfithispursuer，isnotlikelytobecheckedbyalineofwell-trainedsoldiers。Hepaidthemthecomplimentofcrawlingbetweenacouple，and，runningandhalting，crouchinganddroppingflat，workedhiswaytowardthelightedMess-tentwhere，closepressedbehindthemango-tree，hewaitedtillsomechancewordshouldgivehimareturnablelead。
TheonethingnowinhismindwasfurtherinformationastotheRedBull。Foraughtheknew，andKim’slimitationswereascuriousandsuddenashisexpansions，themen，theninehundredthoroughdevilsofhisfather’sprophecy，mightpraytothebeastafterdark，asHinduspraytotheHolyCow。Thatatleastwouldbeentirelyrightandlogical，andthepadrewiththegoldcrosswouldbethereforethemantoconsultinthematter。Ontheotherhand，rememberingsober-facedpadreswhomhehadavoidedinLahorecity，thepriestmightbeaninquisitivenuisancewhowouldbidhimlearn。
ButhaditnotbeenprovenatUmballathathissigninthehighheavensportendedWarandarmedmen？WashenottheFriendoftheStarsaswellasofalltheWorld，crammedtotheteethwithdreadfulsecrets？Lastly-andfirstlyastheundercurrentofallhisquickthoughts-thisadventure，thoughhedidnotknowtheEnglishword，wasastupendouslark-adelightfulcontinuationofhisoldflightsacrossthehousetops，aswellasthefulfilmentofsublimeprophecy。Helaybelly-flatandwriggledtowardstheMess-tentdoor，ahandontheamuletroundhisneck。
Itwasashesuspected。TheSahibsprayedtotheirGod；forinthecentreoftheMess-table-itssoleornamentwhentheywereonthelineofmarch-stoodagoldenbullfashionedfromold-timelootoftheSummerPalaceatPekin-ared-goldbullwithloweredhead，rampinguponafieldofIrishgreen。TohimtheSahibsheldouttheirglassesandcriedaloudconfusedly。
NowtheReverendArthurBennettalwaysleftMessafterthattoast，andbeingrathertiredbyhismarchhismovementsweremoreabruptthanusual。
Kim，withslightlyraisedhead，wasstillstaringathistotemonthetable，whentheChaplainsteppedonhisrightshoulder-blade。Kimflinchedundertheleather，and，rollingsideways，broughtdowntheChaplain，who，everamanofaction，caughthimbythethroatandnearlychokedthelifeoutofhim。Kimthenkickedhimdesperatelyinthestomach。MrBennettgaspedanddoubledup，butwithoutrelaxinghisgrip，rolledoveragain，andsilentlyhauledKimtohisowntent。TheMaverickswereincurablepracticaljokers；
anditoccurredtotheEnglishmanthatsilencewasbesttillhehadmadecompleteinquiry。