was on him, spake prophecies. But the mad all are in God's keeping. His officers overlooked much in that man.'
The lama fell back on Urdu, remembering that he was in a strange land. 'Hear the tale of the Arrow which our Lord loosed from the bow,' he said.
This was much more to their taste, and they listened curiously while he told it. 'Now, O people of Hind, I go to seek that river. Know ye aught that may guide me, for we be all men and women in evil case.'
'There is Gunga—and Gunga alone—who washes away sin,' ran the murmur round the carriage.
'Though past question we have good gods Jullunder-way,' said the cultivator's wife, looking out of window. 'See how they have blessed the crops.'
'To search every river in the Punjab is no small matter,' said her husband. 'For me, a stream that leaves good silt on my land suffices, and I thank Bhumia, the god of the homestead.' He shrugged one knotted, bronzed shoulder.
'Think you our Lord came so far north?' said the lama, turning to Kim.
'It may be,' Kim replied soothingly, as he spat red pan-juice on the floor.
'The last of the Great Ones,' said the Sikh with authority, 'was Sikander Julkarn (Alexander the Great). He paved the streets of Jullunder and built a great tank near Umballa. That pavement holds to this day; and the tank is there also. I never heard of thy god.'
'Let thy hair grow long and talk Punjabi,' said the young soldier jestingly to Kim, quoting a Northern proverb. 'That is all that makes a Sikh.' But he did not say this very loud.
