my Red Bull. The sign in the Stars was not for thee. I know a
little of the customs of white soldiers, and I always desire to see
some new things.'

'What dost thou not know of this world?' The lama squatted
obediently in a little hollow of the ground not a hundred yards
from the hump of the mango-trees dark against the star-powdered
sky.

'Stay till I call.' Kim flitted into the dusk. He knew that in all
probability there would be sentries round the camp, and smiled to
himself as he heard the thick boots of one. A boy who can dodge
over the roofs of Lahore city on a moonlight night, using every
little patch and corner of darkness to discomfit his pursuer, is
not likely to be checked by a line of well-trained soldiers. He
paid them the compliment of crawling between a couple, and, running
and halting, crouching and dropping flat, worked his way toward the
lighted Mess-tent where, close pressed behind the mango-tree, he
waited till some chance word should give him a returnable lead.

The one thing now in his mind was further information as to the Red
Bull. For aught he knew, and Kim's limitations were as curious and
sudden as his expansions, the men, the nine hundred thorough devils
of his father's prophecy, might pray to the beast after dark, as
Hindus pray to the Holy Cow. That at least would be entirely right
and logical, and the padre with the gold cross would be therefore
the man to consult in the matter. On the other hand, remembering
sober-faced padres whom he had avoided in Lahore city, the priest
might be an inquisitive nuisance who would bid him learn. But had
it not been proven at Umballa that his sign in the high heavens