CHAPTER VIII
Something I owe to the soil that grew—
More to the life that fed—
But most to Allah Who gave me two
Separate sides to my head.
I would go without shirts or shoes
Friends, tobacco, or bread,
Sooner than for an instant lose
Either side of my head.
'Then in God's name take blue for red,' said Mahbub, alluding to the Hindu colour of Kim's disreputable turban.
Kim countered with the old proverb, 'I will change my faith and my bedding, but thou must pay for it.'
Mahbub Ali laughed till he nearly fell from his horse. At a shop on the outskirts of the city the change was made, and Kim stood up, externally at least, a Mohammedan.
Mahbub hired a room over against the railway station, sent for a cooked meal of the finest with almond curried sweetmeats (balushai, they call it) and fine-chopped Lucknow tobacco.
'This is better than some other meat that I ate with the Sikh,' said Kim, grinning as he squatted, 'and assuredly they give no such victuals at my madrissah.'
'I have a desire to hear of that same madrissah' Mahbub stuffed himself with great boluses of spiced mutton fried in fat with cabbage and golden-brown onions. 'But tell me first, altogether and truthfully, the manner of thy escape. For, O Friend
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