`Thatiswellspoken。Iamnotmuchusedtoholymen，butrespectisalwaysgood。Thereisnorespectinthesedays-notevenwhenaCommissionerSahibcomestoseeme。ButwhyshouldonewhoseStarleadshimtowarfollowaholyman？’
　　`Butheisaholyman，’saidKimearnestly。`Intruth，andintalkandinact，holy。Heisnotliketheothers。Ihaveneverseensuchanone。Webenotfortune-tellers，orjugglers，orbeggars。’
　　`Thouartnot。ThatIcansee。ButIdonotknowthatother。
　　Hemarcheswell，though。’
　　Thefirstfreshnessofthedaycarriedthelamaforwardwithlong，easy，camel-likestrides。Hewasdeepinmeditation，mechanicallyclickinghisrosary。
　　Theyfollowedtheruttedandworncountryroadthatwoundacrosstheflatbetweenthegreatdark-greenmango-groves，thelineofthesnow-cappedHimalayasfainttotheeastward。AllIndiawasatworkinthefields，tothecreakingofwell-wheels，theshoutingofploughmenbehindtheircattle，andtheclamourofthecrows。EventheponyfeltthegoodinfluenceandalmostbrokeintoatrotasKimlaidahandonthestirrup-leather。
　　`ItrepentsmethatIdidnotgivearupeetotheshrine，’saidthelamaonthelastbeadofhiseighty-one。
　　Theoldsoldiergrowledinhisbeard，sothatthelamaforthefirsttimewasawareofhim。
　　`SeekestthoutheRiveralso？’saidhe，turning。
　　`Thedayisnew，’wasthereply。`Whatneedofariversavetowateratbeforesundown？IcometoshowtheeashortlanetotheBigRoad。’
　　`Thatisacourtesytoberemembered，Omanofgoodwill。Butwhythesword？’
　　Theoldsoldierlookedasabashedasachildinterruptedinhisgameofmake-believe。
　　`Thesword，’hesaid，fumblingit。`Oh，thatwasafancyofmine-anoldman’sfancy。TrulythepoliceordersarethatnomanmustbearweaponsthroughoutHind，but’-hecheeredupandslappedthehilt-`alltheconstabeelshereaboutknowme。’
　　`Itisnotagoodfancy，’saidthelama。`Whatprofittokillmen？’
　　`Verylittle-asIknow；butifevilmenwerenotnowandthenslainitwouldnotbeagoodworldforweaponlessdreamers。IdonotspeakwithoutknowledgewhohaveseenthelandfromDelhisouthawashwithblood。’
　　`Whatmadnesswasthat，then？’
　　`TheGods，whosentitforaplague，aloneknow。AmadnessateintoalltheArmy，andtheyturnedagainsttheirofficers。Thatwasthefirstevil，butnotpastremedyiftheyhadthenheldtheirhands。ButtheychosetokilltheSahibs’wivesandchildren。ThencametheSahibsfromovertheseaandcalledthemtomoststrictaccount。’
　　`Somesuchrumour，Ibelieve，reachedmeoncelongago。TheycalledittheBlackYear，asIremember。’
　　`Whatmanneroflifehastthouled，nottoknowTheYear？Arumourindeed！
　　Allearthknew，andtrembled！’
　　`Ourearthnevershookbutonce-uponthedaythattheExcellentOnereceivedEnlightenment。’
　　`Umph！IsawDelhishakeatleast；andDelhiisthenaveloftheworld。’
　　`Sotheyturnedagainstwomenandchildren？Thatwasabaddeed，forwhichthepunishmentcannotbeavoided。’
　　`Manystrovetodoso，butwithverysmallprofit。Iwastheninaregimentofcavalry。Itbroke。Ofsixhundredandeightysabresstoodfasttotheirsalt-howmany，thinkyou？Three。OfwhomIwasone。’
　　`Thegreatermerit。’
　　`Merit！Wedidnotconsideritmeritinthosedays。Mypeople，myfriends，mybrothersfellfromme。Theysaid：`ThetimeoftheEnglishisaccomplished。
　　Leteachstrikeoutalittleholdingforhimself。’ButIhadtalkedwiththemenofSobraon，ofChilianwallah，ofMoodkeeandFerozeshah。Isaid：
　　`Abidealittleandthewindturns。Thereisnoblessinginthiswork。’
　　InthosedaysIrodeseventymileswithanEnglishMemsahibandherbabeonmysaddle-bow。Wow！Thatwasahorsefitforaman！Iplacedtheminsafety，andbackcameItomyofficer-theonethatwasnotkilledofourfive。`Givemework，’saidI，`forIamanoutcastamongmyownkind，andmycousin’sbloodiswetonmysabre。’`Becontent，’saidhe。
　　`Thereisgreatworkforward。Whenthismadnessisoverthereisarecompense。’’
　　`Ay，thereisarecompensewhenthemadnessisover，surely？’thelamamutteredhalftohimself。
　　`Theydidnothangmedalsinthosedaysonallwhobyaccidenthadheardagunfired。No！InnineteenpitchedbattleswasI；insix-and-fortyskirmishesofhorse；andinsmallaffairswithoutnumber。NinewoundsIbear；amedalandfourclaspsandthemedalofanOrder，formycaptains，whoarenowgenerals，rememberedmewhentheKaisar-i-Hindhadaccomplishedfiftyyearsofherreign，andallthelandrejoiced。Theysaid：`GivehimtheOrderofBerittishIndia。’Icarryituponmynecknow。Ihavealsomyjaghir[holding]fromthehandsoftheState-afreegifttomeandmine。Themenoftheolddays-theyarenowCommissioners-comeridingtomethroughthecrops-highuponhorsessothatallthevillagesees-andwetalkouttheoldskirmishes，onedeadman’snameleadingtoanother。’
　　`Andafter？’saidthelama。
　　`Oh，afterwardstheygoaway，butnotbeforemyvillagehasseen。’
　　`Andatthelastwhatwiltthoudo？’
　　`AtthelastIshalldie。’
　　`Andafter？’
　　`LettheGodsorderit。IhaveneverpesteredThemwithprayers。IdonotthinkTheywillpesterme。Lookyou，IhavenoticedinmylonglifethatthosewhoeternallybreakinuponThoseAbovewithcomplaintsandreportsandbellowingsandweepingsarepresentlysentforinhaste，asourColonelusedtosendforslack-jaweddown-countrymenwhotalkedtoomuch。No，IhaveneverweariedtheGods。Theywillrememberthis，andgivemeaquietplacewhereIcandrivemylanceintheshade，andwaittowelcomemysons：Ihavenolessthanthree-Rissaldar-majorsall-intheregiments。’
　　`Andtheylikewise，boundupontheWheel，goforthfromlifetolife-fromdespairtodespair，’saidthelamabelowhisbreath，`hot，uneasy，snatching。’
　　`Ay，’theoldsoldierchuckled。`ThreeRissaldar-majorsinthreeregiments。
　　Gamblersalittle，butsoamI。Theymustbewellmounted；andonecannottakethehorsesasintheolddaysonetookwomen。Well，well，myholdingcanpayforall。Howthinkestthou？Itisawell-wateredstrip，butmymencheatme。Idonotknowhowtoasksaveatthelance’spoint。Ugh！
　　IgrowangryandIcursethem，andtheyfeignpenitence，butbehindmybackIknowtheycallmeatoothlessoldape。’
　　`Hastthouneverdesiredanyotherthing？’
　　`Yes-yes-athousandtimes！Astraightbackandaclose-clingingkneeoncemore；aquickwristandakeeneye；andthemarrowthatmakesaman。Oh，theolddays-thegooddaysofmystrength！’
　　`Thatstrengthisweakness。’
　　`Ithasturnedso；butfiftyyearssinceIcouldhaveproveditotherwise，’
　　theoldsoldierretorted，drivinghisstirrup-edgeintothepony’sleanflank。
　　`ButIknowaRiverofgreathealing。’
　　`IhavedrankGunga-watertotheedgeofdropsy。Allshegavemewasaflux，andnosortofstrength。’
　　`ItisnotGunga。TheRiverthatIknowwashesfromalltaintofsin。
　　AscendingthefarbankoneisassuredofFreedom。Idonotknowthylife，butthyfaceisthefaceofthehonourableandcourteous。ThouhastclungtothyWay，renderingfidelitywhenitwashardtogive，inthatBlackYearofwhichInowrememberothertales。EnternowupontheMiddleWaywhichisthepathtoFreedom。HeartheMostExcellentLaw，anddonotfollowdreams。’
　　`Speak，then，oldman，’thesoldiersmiled，halfsaluting。`Webeallbabblersatourage。’
　　Thelamasquattedundertheshadeofamango，whoseshadowplayedcheckerwiseoverhisface；thesoldiersatstifflyonthepony；andKim，makingsurethattherewerenosnakes，laydowninthecrotchofthetwistedroots。
　　Therewasadrowsybuzzofsmalllifeinhotsunshine，acooingofdoves，andasleepydroneofwell-wheelsacrossthefields。Slowlyandimpressivelythelamabegan。Attheendoftenminutestheoldsoldierslidfromhispony，tohearbetterashesaid，andsatwiththereinsroundhiswrist。
　　Thelama’svoicefaltered-theperiodslengthened。Kimwasbusywatchingagreysquirrel。Whenthelittlescoldingbunchoffur，closepressedtothebranch，disappeared，preacherandaudiencewerefastasleep，theoldofficer’sstrong-cutheadpillowedonhisarm，thelama’sthrownbackagainstthetree-bole，whereitshowedlikeyellowivory。Anakedchildtoddledup，stared，and，movedbysomequickimpulseofreverence，madeasolemnlittleobeisancebeforethelama-onlythechildwassoshortandfatthatittoppledoversideways，andKimlaughedatthesprawling，chubbylegs。Thechild，scaredandindignant，yelledaloud。
　　`Hai！Hai！’saidthesoldier，leapingtohisfeet。`Whatisit？Whatorders？……Itis……achild！Idreameditwasanalarm。Littleone-littleone-donotcry。HaveIslept？Thatwasdiscourteousindeed！’
　　`Ifear！Iamafraid！’roaredthechild。