t River.'

'Peace, peace,' said Kim. 'Was not the River near Benares? We are yet
far from the place.'

'But--if our Lord came North, it may be any one of these little ones
that we have run across.'

'I do not know.'

'But thou wast sent to me--wast thou sent to me?--for the merit I had
acquired over yonder at Such-zen. From beside the cannon didst thou
come--bearing two faces--and two garbs.'

'Peace. One must not speak of these things here,' whispered Kim.
'There was but one of me. Think again and thou wilt remember. A
boy--a Hindu boy--by the great green cannon.'

'But was there not also an Englishman with a white beard holy among
images--who himself made more sure my assurance of the River of the
Arrow?'

'He--we--went to the Ajaib-Gher in Lahore to pray before the Gods
there,' Kim explained to the openly listening company. 'And the Sahib
of the Wonder House talked to him--yes, this is truth as a brother. He
is a very holy man, from far beyond the Hills. Rest, thou. In time we
come to Umballa.'

'But my River--the River of my healing?'

'And then, if it please thee, we will go hunting for that River on
foot. So that we miss nothing--not even a little rivulet in a
field-side.'

'But thou hast a Search of thine own?' The lama--very pleased that he
remembered so well--sat bolt upright.

'Ay,' said Kim, humouring him. The boy was entirely happy to be out
chewing pan and seeing new people in the great good-tempered world.

'It was a bull--a Red Bull that shall come and help thee and carry
thee--whither? I have forgotten. A Red Bull on a green field, was it
not?'

'Nay, it will carry me nowhere,' said Kim. 'It is but a tale I told
thee.'

'What is this?' The cultivator's wife leaned forward, her bracelets
clinking on her arm. 'Do ye both dream dreams? A Red Bull on a green
field, that shall carry thee to the heavens or what? Was it a vision?
Did one make a prophecy? We have a Red Bull in our village behind
Jullundur city, and he grazes by choice in the very greenest of our
fields!'

'Give a woman an old wife's tale and a weaver-bird a leaf and a
thread', they will weave wonderful things,' said the Sikh. 'All holy
men dream dreams, and by following holy men their disciples attain that
power.'

'A Red Bull on a green field, was it?' the lama repeated. 'In a
former life it may be thou hast acquired merit, and the Bull will come
to reward thee.'

'Nay--nay--it was but a tale one