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Kim by Rudyard Kipling
page 30 of 426 (07%)
lied to me. Call that lama - stand back in the dark.'

'Oh, our tales will agree,' said Kim, laughing.

'We go to Benares,' said the lama, as soon as he understood the
drift of Mahbub Ali's questions. 'The boy and I, I go to seek for
a certain River.'

'Maybe - but the boy?'

'He is my disciple. He was sent, I think, to guide me to that
River. Sitting under a gun was I when he came suddenly. Such
things have befallen the fortunate to whom guidance was allowed.
But I remember now, he said he was of this world - a Hindu.'

'And his name?'

'That I did not ask. Is he not my disciple?'

'His country - his race - his village? Mussalman - Sikh Hindu -
Jain - low caste or high?'

'Why should I ask? There is neither high nor low in the Middle
Way. If he is my chela - does - will - can anyone take him from
me? for, look you, without him I shall not find my River.' He
wagged his head solemnly.

'None shall take him from thee. Go, sit among my Baltis,' said
Mahbub Ali, and the lama drifted off, soothed by the promise.

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