need to go on inspection round the farm—she won to the meat of the matter, explained low-voicedly by the lama. The two old heads nodded wisely together. Kim had staggered to a room with a cot in it, and was dozing soddenly. The lama had forbidden him to set blankets or get food.
'I know—I know. Who but I?' she cackled. 'We who go down to the burning-ghats clutch at the hands of those coming up from the river of life with full water-jars. Yes, brimming water-jars. I did the boy wrong. He lent thee his strength? It is true that the old eat the young daily. Stands now that we must restore him.'
'Thou hast many times acquired merit.'
'My merit. What is it? Old bag of bones making curries for men who do not ask "Who cooked this?' Now if it were stored up for my grandson'
'He that had the belly-pain?'
'To think the Holy One remembers that. I must tell his mother. It is most singular honour! "He that had the belly-pain"—straightway the Holy One remembered. She will be proud.'
'My chela is to me as is a son to the unenlightened.'
'Say grandson, rather. Mothers have not the wisdom of our years. If a child cries they say the heavens are falling. Now a grandmother is far enough separated from the pain of bearing and the pleasure of giving the breast to consider whether a cry is pure wickedness or the wind. And since thou speakest once again of wind, when last the Holy One was here, maybe I offended in pressing for charms.'
'Sister,' said the lama, using that form of address a Buddhist monk may sometimes employ toward a nun, 'if charms comfort thee'
