beggars,' he began, half apologetically.

'And by what sign didst thou know that we would beg from thee, O
Mali?' said Kim tartly, using the name that a market-gardener
least likes. 'All we sought was to look at that river beyond the
field there.'

'River, forsooth!' the man snorted. 'What city do ye hail from
not to know a canal-cut? It runs as straight as an arrow, and I
pay for the water as though it were molten silver. There is a
branch of a river beyond. But if ye need water I can give that -
and milk.'

'Nay, we will go to the river,' said the lama, striding out.

'Milk and a meal.' the man stammered, as he looked at the strange
tall figure. 'I - I would not draw evil upon myself - or my
crops. But beggars are so many in these hard days.'

'Take notice.' The lama turned to Kim. 'He was led to speak
harshly by the Red Mist of anger. That clearing from his eyes, he
becomes courteous and of an affable heart. May his fields be
blessed! Beware not to judge men too hastily, O farmer.'

'I have met holy ones who would have cursed thee from hearthstone
to byre,' said Kim to the abashed man. 'Is he not wise and holy?
I am his disciple.'

He cocked his nose in the air loftily and stepped across the
narrow field-borders with great dignity.