Kim Page #2

I am tired of new priests

and tired of old priests.

They settle on our wares like flies.

But he is a very holy man.

He has come a long way without food.

You will win great merit.

Just once, fill this little bowl.

Little bowl? That's a sheep-bellied basket.

My holy man can curse as well as bless.

My holy man is not a cow.

A little curry, perhaps.

A little conserve would please him, I think.

Your holy man must have a large belly.

Must his chela go hungry?

Then ask the holy man's blessing

upon my daughter...

who bears no children.

Thou art a wonderful provider.

Thou hast not seen all, yet.

Broken glasses.

What kind of magic is this?

Again I see clearly.

Even thy face...

which is very young and very honest.

I see now that thou was sent

for a purpose.

Now you talk like a missionary.

With thee, I shall find

the River of the Arrow.

But I search for a red bull on a green field.

Have you seen something like that

in your travels?

Before my father died...

he said I was to look for the coming

of a red bull on a green field...

and a sahib on a white horse

leading 900 first-class devils.

That's my search.

It's all here, in the papers of my father.

I cannot read, but it is here.

Then we shall search together.

Thee for thy red bull, and I for my river.

Now, what can a river do for you?

It is written that this river can free a man

from the ties and fears of earth...

from all the world's uneasy circumstance.

It can open the doors to final wisdom.

Will thou search with me and be my chela?

Not I, holy man.

But I'll find you a place to sleep.

Kim led the lama

through the hustling throng...

which always gathered

near the Kashmir Serai Gate...

where the caravans

made their encampment...

before entering the city of Lahore...

to the huge, open square...

where the camel

and horse caravans paused...

on their return north from Central Asia.

Here were all manner of traders.

Men from Kashmir,

men from Afghanistan...

camel drivers, grooms, elephant tenders...

All the races of Upper India.

Kim made straight for the quarters

of the man he envied...

and admired most in all India:

Mahbub Ali, the red-bearded horse trader.

Mahbub Ali?

A lama.

Here is a priest of the god Buddha.

See if he'd be hungry.

The Holy One will come to the fire.

I will come to you later.

He needs taking care of. He is but a child.

What are you doing

with this lama from Tibet?

He's friendless, quite mad. He wants me

to travel with him to Benares.

And do you go?

No. I've decided to travel with you.

Indeed.

Marsala.

What perfume!

The beard becomes silk.

Try it next time you grow one.

Umballa is on the way to Benares.

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