-heforgothisNortherndressforthemoment-`thoughAllahaloneknowethwhatIseek。’
Theoldfellowslippedthebairagi’scrutchunderhisarmpitandsatdownonapatchofruddyleopard’sskinasKimroseatthecallfortheBenarestrain。
`Goinhope，littlebrother，’hesaid。`ItisalongroadtothefeetoftheOne；butthitherdowealltravel。’
Kimdidnotfeelsolonelyafterthis，anderehehadsatouttwentymilesinthecrowdedcompartment，wascheeringhisneighbourswithastringofmostwonderfulyarnsabouthisownandhismaster’smagicalgifts。
Benaresstruckhimasapeculiarlyfilthycity，thoughitwaspleasanttofindhowhisclothwasrespected。Atleastone-thirdofthepopulationprayseternallytosomegrouporotherofthemanymilliondeities，andsorevereseverysortofholyman。KimwasguidedtotheTempleoftheTirthankars，aboutamileoutsidethecity，nearSarnath，byachance-metPunjabifarmer-aKambohfromJullundurwaywhohadappealedinvaintoeveryGodofhishomesteadtocurehissmallson，andwastryingBenaresasalastresort。
`ThouartfromtheNorth？’heasked，shoulderingthroughthepressofthenarrow，stinkingstreetsmuchlikehisownpetbullathome。
`Ay，IknowthePunjab。Mymotherwasapahareen，butmyfathercamefromAmritzar-byJandiala，’saidKim，oilinghisreadytonguefortheneedsoftheRoad。
`Jandiala-Jullundur？Oho！Thenwebeneighboursinsomesort，asitwere。’Henoddedtenderlytothewailingchildinhisarms。`Whomdostthouserve？’
`AmostholymanattheTempleoftheTirthankers。’
`Theyareallmostholyand-mostgreedy，’saidtheJatwithbitterness。
`Ihavewalkedthepillarsandtroddenthetemplestillmyfeetareflayed，andthechildisnowhitbetter。Andthemotherbeingsicktoo……Hush，then，littleone……Wechangedhisnamewhenthefevercame。Weputhimintogirl’sclothes。Therewasnothingwedidnotdo，except-IsaidtohismotherwhenshebundledmeofftoBenares-sheshouldhavecomewithme-IsaidSakhiSarwarSultanwouldserveusbest。WeknowHisgenerosity，butthesedown-countryGodsarestrangers。’
ThechildturnedonthecushionofthehugecordedarmsandlookedatKimthroughheavyeyelids。
`Andwasitallworthless？’Kimasked，witheasyinterest。
`Allworthless-allworthless，’saidthechild，lipscrackingwithfever。
`TheGodshavegivenhimagoodmind，atleast，’saidthefatherproudly。
`Tothinkheshouldhavelistenedsocleverly。YonderisthyTemple。NowIamapoorman-manypriestshavedealtwithme-butmysonismyson，andifagifttothymastercancurehim-Iamatmyverywits’end。’
Kimconsideredforawhile，tinglingwithpride。Threeyearsagohewouldhavemadepromptprofitonthesituationandgonehiswaywithoutathought；butnow，theveryrespecttheJatpaidhimprovedthathewasaman。Moreover，hehadtastedfeveronceortwicealready，andknewenoughtorecognizestarvationwhenhesawit。
`CallhimforthandIwillgivehimabondonmybestyoke，sothatthechildiscured。’
Kimhaltedatthecarvedouterdoorofthetemple。Awhite-cladOswalbankerfromAjmir，hissinsofusurynewwipedout，askedhimwhathedid。
`IamchelatoTeshooLama，anHolyOnefromBhotiyal-withinthere。Hebademecome。Iwait。Tellhim。’
`Donotforgetthechild，’criedtheimportunateJatoverhisshoulder，andthenbellowedinPunjabi；`OHolyOne-OdiscipleoftheHolyOne-OGodsabovealltheWorlds-beholdafflictionsittingatthegate！’
ThatcryissocommoninBenaresthatthepassersneverturnedtheirheads。
TheOswal，atpeacewithmankind，carriedthemessageintothedarknessbehindhim，andtheeasy，uncountedEasternminutesslidby；forthelamawasasleepinhiscell，andnopriestwouldwakehim。WhentheclickofhisrosaryagainbrokethehushoftheinnercourtwherethecalmimagesoftheArhatsstand，anovicewhispered，`Thychelaishere，’andtheoldmanstrodeforth，forgettingtheendofthatprayer。
HardlyhadthetallfigureshowninthedoorwaythantheJatranbeforehim，and，liftingupthechild，cried：`Lookuponthis，HolyOne；andiftheGodswill，helives-helives！’
Hefumbledinhiswaist-beltanddrewoutasmallsilvercoIn。
`Whatisnow？’Thelama’seyesturnedtoKim。ItwasnoticeablehespokefarclearerUrduthanlongago，underZam-Zammah；butthefatherwouldallownoprivatetalk。
`Itisnomorethanafever，’saidKim。`Thechildisnotwellfed。’
`Hesickensateverything，andhismotherisnothere。’
`Ifitbepermitted，Imaycure，HolyOne。’
`What！Havetheymadetheeahealer？Waithere，’saidthelama，andhesatdownbytheJatupontheloweststepofthetemple，whileKim，lookingoutofthecornerofhiseyes，slowlyopenedthelittlebetel-box。HehaddreameddreamsatschoolofreturningtothelamaasaSahib-ofchaffingtheoldmanbeforeherevealedhimself-boy’sdreamsall。Therewasmoredramainthisabstracted，brow-puckeredsearchthroughthetabloid-bottles，withapausehereandthereforthoughtandamutteredinvocationbetweenwhiles。Quininehehadintablets，anddarkbrownmeat-lozenges-beefmostprobably，butthatwasnothisbusiness。Thelittlethingwouldnoteat，butitsuckedatalozengegreedily，andsaiditlikedthesalttaste。
`Takethenthesesix。’Kimhandedthemtotheman。`PraisetheGods，andboilthreeinmilk；otherthreeinwater。Afterhehasdrunkthemilkgivehimthis’itwasthehalfofaquininepill，`andwraphimwarm。
Givehimthewateroftheotherthree，andtheotherhalfofthiswhitepillwhenhewakes。Meantime，hereisanotherbrownmedicinethathemaysuckatonthewayhome。’
`Gods，whatwisdom！’saidtheKamboh，snatching。
ItwasasmuchasKimcouldrememberofhisowntreatmentinaboutofautumnmalaria-ifyouexceptthepatterthatheaddedtoimpressthelama。
`Nowgo！Comeagaininthemorning。’
`Buttheprice-theprice，’saidtheJat，andthrewbackhissturdyshoulders。`Mysonismyson。Nowthathewillbewholeagain，howshallIgobacktohismotherandsayItookhelpbythewaysideanddidnotevengiveabowlofcurdsinreturn？’
`Theyarealike，theseJats，’saidKimsoftly。`TheJatstoodonhisdunghillandtheKing’selephantswentby。`Odriver，’saidhe，`whatwillyousellthoselittledonkeysfor？’’
TheJatburstintoaroaroflaughter，stifledwithapologiestothelama。`Itisthesayingofmyowncountry-theverytalkofit。SoareweJatsall。Iwillcometomorrowwiththechild；andtheblessingoftheGodsoftheHomesteads-whoaregoodlittleGods-beonyouboth……Now，son，wegrowstrongagain。Donotspititout，littlePrinceling！KingofmyHeart，donotspititout，andweshallbestrongmen，wrestlersandclub-wielders，bymorning。’
Hemovedaway，crooningandmumbling。ThelamaturnedtoKim，andallthelovingoldsoulofhimlookedoutthroughhisnarroweyes。
`Tohealthesickistoacquiremerit；butfirstonegetsknowledge。
Thatwaswiselydone，OFriendofalltheWorld。’
`Iwasmadewisebythee，HolyOne，’saidKim，forgettingthelittleplayjustended；forgettingStXavier’s；forgettinghiswhiteblood；forgettingeventheGreatGameashestooped，Mohammedan-fashion，totouchhismaster’sfeetinthedustoftheJaintemple。`MyteachingIowetothee。Ihaveeatenthybreadthreeyears。Mytimeisfinished。Iamloosedfromtheschools。Icometothee。’
`Hereinismyreward。Enter！Enter！Andisallwell？’Theypassedtotheinnercourt，wheretheafternoonsunslopedgoldenacross。`StandthatImaysee。So！’Hepeeredcritically。`Itisnolongerachild，butaman，ripenedinwisdom，walkingasaphysician。Ididwell-IdidwellwhenIgavetheeuptothearmedmenonthatblacknight。DostthourememberourfirstdayunderZam-Zammah？’
`Ay，’saidKim。`DostthourememberwhenIleaptoffthecarriagethefirstdayIwentto-’
`TheGatesofLearning？Truly。AndthedaythatweatethecakestogetheratthebackoftheriverbyNucklao。Aha！Manytimeshastthoubeggedforme，butthatdayIbeggedforthee。’
`Goodreason，’quothKim。`IwasthenascholarintheGatesofLearning，andattiredasaSahib。Donotforget，HolyOne，’hewentonplayfully。
`IamstillaSahib-bythyfavour。’
`True。AndaSahibinmosthighesteem。Cometomycell，chela。’
`Howisthatknowntothee？’
Thelamasmiled。`Firstbymeansoflettersfromthekindlypriestwhomwemetinthecampofarmedmen；butheisnowgonetohisowncountry，andIsentthemoneytohisbrother。’ColonelCreighton，whohadsucceededtothetrusteeshipwhenFatherVictorwenttoEnglandwiththeMavericks，washardlytheChaplain’sbrother。`ButIdonotwellunderstandSahibs’
letters。Theymustbeinterpretedtome。Ichoseasurerway。ManytimeswhenIreturnedfrommySearchtothisTemple，whichhasalwaysbeenanesttome，therecameoneseekingEnlightenment-amanfromLeh-thathadbeen，hesaid，aHindu，butweariedofallthoseGods。’ThelamapointedtotheArhats。
`Afatman？’saidKim，atwinkleinhiseye。
`Veryfat；butIperceivedinalittlehismindwaswhollygivenuptouselessthings-suchasdevilsandcharmsandtheformandfashionofourtea-drinkingsinthemonasteries，andbywhatroadweinitiatedthenovices。Amanaboundinginquestions；buthewasafriendofthine，chela。Hetoldmethatthouwastontheroadtomuchhonourasascribe。
AndIseethouartaphysician。’
`Yes，thatamI-ascribe，whenIamaSahib，butitissetasidewhenIcomeasthydisciple。IhaveaccomplishedtheyearsappointedforaSahib。’
`Asitwereanovice？’saidthelama，noddinghishead。`Artthoufreedfromtheschools？Iwouldnothavetheeunripe。’
`Iamallfree。InduetimeItakeserviceundertheGovernmentasascribe-’
`Notasawarrior。Thatiswell。’
`ButfirstIcometowander-withthee。ThereforeIamhere。Whobegsforthee，thesedays？’hewentonquickly。Theicewasthin。
`VeryoftenIbegmyself；but，asthouknowest，Iamseldomhere，exceptwhenIcometolookagainatmydisciple。FromoneendtoanotherofHindhaveItravelledafootandinthete-rain。Agreatandawonderfulland！Buthere，whenIputin，isasthoughIwereinmyownBhotiyal。’
Helookedroundthelittlecleancellcomplacently。Alowcushiongavehimaseat，onwhichhehaddisposedhimselfinthecross-leggedattitudeoftheBodhisatemergingfrommeditation；ablackteak-woodtable，nottwentyincheshigh，setwithcoppertea-cups，wasbeforehim。Inonecornerstoodatinyaltar，alsoofheavilycarvedteak，bearingacopper-giltimageoftheseatedBuddhaandfrontedbyalamp，anincense-holder，andapairofcopperflower-pots。