`It’shereorhereabouts-officers’tentsunderthetrees，Itakeit，an’therestofuscanstayoutside。Havetheymarkedoutforthebaggage-wagonsbehind？’
　　Theycriedagaintotheircomradesinthedistance，andtheroughanswercamebackfaintandmellowed。
　　`Shovetheflaginhere，then，’saidone。
　　`Whatdotheyprepare？’saidthelama，wonderstruck。`Thisisagreatandterribleworld。Whatisthedeviceontheflag？’
　　Asoldierthrustastavewithinafewfeetofthem，grunteddiscontentedly，pulleditupagain，conferredwithhiscompanion，wholookedupanddowntheshadedcaveofgreenery，andreturnedit。
　　Kimstaredwithallhiseyes，hisbreathcomingshortandsharpbetweenhisteeth。Thesoldiersstampedoffintothesunshine。
　　`OHolyOne！’hegasped。`Myhoroscope！ThedrawinginthedustbythepriestatUmballa！Rememberwhathesaid。Firstcometwo-ferashes-tomakeallthingsready-inadarkplace，asitisalwaysatthebeginningofavision。’
　　`Butthisisnotvision，’saidthelama。`Itistheworld’sIllusion，andnomore。’
　　`AndafterthemcomestheBull-theRedBullonthegreenfield。Look！
　　Itishe！’
　　Hepointedtotheflagthatwassnap-snappingintheeveningbreezenottenfeetaway。Itwasnomorethananordinarycampmarking-flag；buttheregiment，alwayspunctiliousinmattersofmillinery，hadchargeditwiththeregimentaldevice，theRedBull，whichisthecrestoftheMavericks-thegreatRedBullonabackgroundofIrishgreen。
　　`Isee，andnowIremember，’saidthelama。`CertainlyitisthyBull。
　　Certainly，also，thetwomencametomakeallready。’
　　`Theyaresoldiers-whitesoldiers。Whatsaidthepriest？`ThesignoveragainsttheBullisthesignofWarandarmedmen。’HolyOne，thisthingtouchesmySearch。’
　　`True。Itistrue。’Thelamastaredfixedlyatthedevicethatflamedlikearubyinthedusk。`ThepriestatUmballasaidthatthinewasthesignofWar。’
　　`Whatistodonow？’
　　`Wait。Letuswait。’
　　`Evennowthedarknessclears，’saidKim。Itwasonlynaturalthatthedescendingsunshouldatlaststrikethroughthetree-trunks，acrossthegrove，fillingitwithmealygoldlightforafewminutes；buttoKimitwasthecrownoftheUmballaBrahmin’sprophecy。
　　`Hark！’saidthelama。`Onebeatsadrum-faroff！’
　　Atfirstthesound，carryingdilutedthroughthestillair，resembledthebeatingofanarteryinthehead。Soonasharpnesswasadded。
　　`Ah！Themusic，’Kimexplained。Heknewthesoundofaregimentalband，butitamazedthelama。
　　Atthefarendoftheplainaheavy，dustycolumncrawledinsight。
　　Thenthewindbroughtthetune：
　　WecraveyourcondescensionTotellyouwhatweknowOfmarchingintheMulliganGuardsToSligoPortbelow！
　　Herebrokeintheshrill-tonguedfifes：
　　Weshoulderedarms，Wemarched-wemarchedaway。
　　FromPhoenixParkWemarchedtoDublinBay。
　　Thedrumsandthefifes，Oh，sweetlytheydidplay，Aswemarched-marched-marched-withtheMulliganGuards！ItwasthebandoftheMavericksplayingtheregimenttocamp；forthemenwereroute-marchingwiththeirbaggage。Theripplingcolumnswungintothelevel-cartsbehindit-dividedleftandright，ranaboutlikeanant-hill，and……
　　`Butthisissorcery！’saidthelama。
　　Theplaindotteditselfwithtentsthatseemedtorise，allspread，fromthecarts。Anotherrushofmeninvadedthegrove，pitchedahugetentinsilence，ranupyeteightorninemorebythesideofit，unearthedcooking-pots，pans，andbundles，whichweretakenpossessionofbyacrowdofnativeservants；andbeholdthemango-topeturnedintoanorderlytownastheywatched！
　　`Letusgo，’saidthelama，sinkingbackafraid，asthefirestwinkledandwhiteofficerswithjinglingswordsstalkedintotheMess-tent。
　　`Standbackintheshadow。Noonecanseebeyondthelightofafire，’
　　saidKim，hiseyesstillontheflag。Hehadneverbeforewatchedtheroutineofaseasonedregimentpitchingcampinthirtyminutes。
　　`Look！look！look！’cluckedthelama。`Yondercomesapriest。’ItwasBennett，theChurchofEnglandChaplainoftheregiment，limpingindustyblack。OneofhisflockhadmadesomeruderemarksabouttheChaplain’smettle；andtoabashhimBennetthadmarchedstepbystepwiththementhatday。Theblackdress，goldcrossonthewatch-chain，thehairlessface，andthesoft，blackwide-awakehatwouldhavemarkedhimasaholymananywhereinallIndia。Hedroppedintoacamp-chairbythedooroftheMess-tentandslidoffhisboots。Threeorfourofficersgatheredroundhim，laughingandjokingoverhisexploit。
　　`Thetalkofwhitemeniswhollylackingindignity，’saidthelama，whojudgedonlybytone。`ButIconsideredthecountenanceofthatpriestandIthinkheislearned。Isitlikelythathewillunderstandourtalk？
　　IwouldtalktohimofmySearch。’
　　`Neverspeaktoawhitemantillheisfed，’saidKim，quotingawell-knownproverb。`Theywilleatnow，and-andIdonotthinktheyaregoodtobegfrom。Letusgobacktotheresting-place。Afterwehaveeatenwewillcomeagain。ItcertainlywasaRedBull-myRedBull。’
　　Theywerebothnoticeablyabsent-mindedwhentheoldlady’sretinuesettheirmealbeforethem；sononebroketheirreserve，foritisnotluckytoannoyguests。
　　`Now，’saidKim，pickinghisteeth，`wewillreturntothatplace；butthou，OHolyOne，mustwaitalittlewayoff，becausethyfeetareheavierthanmineandIamanxioustoseemoreofthatRedBull。’
　　`Buthowcanstthouunderstandthetalk？Walkslowly。Theroadisdark，’
　　thelamareplieduneasily。
　　Kimputthequestionaside。`Imarkedaplaceneartothetrees，’saidhe，`wherethoucanstsittillIcall。Nay，’asthelamamadesomesortofprotest，`rememberthisismySearch-theSearchformyRedBull。ThesignintheStarswasnotforthee。Iknowalittleofthecustomsofwhitesoldiers，andIalwaysdesiretoseesomenewthings。’
　　`Whatdostthounotknowofthisworld？’Thelamasquattedobedientlyinalittlehollowofthegroundnotahundredyardsfromthehumpofthemango-treesdarkagainstthestar-powderedsky。
　　`StaytillIcall。’Kimflittedintothedusk。Heknewthatinallprobabilitytherewouldbesentriesroundthecamp，andsmiledtohimselfasheheardthethickbootsofone。AboywhocandodgeovertheroofsofLahorecityonamoonlightnight，usingeverylittlepatchandcornerofdarknesstodiscomfithispursuer，isnotlikelytobecheckedbyalineofwell-trainedsoldiers。Hepaidthemthecomplimentofcrawlingbetweenacouple，and，runningandhalting，crouchinganddroppingflat，workedhiswaytowardthelightedMess-tentwhere，closepressedbehindthemango-tree，hewaitedtillsomechancewordshouldgivehimareturnablelead。
　　TheonethingnowinhismindwasfurtherinformationastotheRedBull。Foraughtheknew，andKim’slimitationswereascuriousandsuddenashisexpansions，themen，theninehundredthoroughdevilsofhisfather’sprophecy，mightpraytothebeastafterdark，asHinduspraytotheHolyCow。Thatatleastwouldbeentirelyrightandlogical，andthepadrewiththegoldcrosswouldbethereforethemantoconsultinthematter。Ontheotherhand，rememberingsober-facedpadreswhomhehadavoidedinLahorecity，thepriestmightbeaninquisitivenuisancewhowouldbidhimlearn。
　　ButhaditnotbeenprovenatUmballathathissigninthehighheavensportendedWarandarmedmen？WashenottheFriendoftheStarsaswellasofalltheWorld，crammedtotheteethwithdreadfulsecrets？Lastly-andfirstlyastheundercurrentofallhisquickthoughts-thisadventure，thoughhedidnotknowtheEnglishword，wasastupendouslark-adelightfulcontinuationofhisoldflightsacrossthehousetops，aswellasthefulfilmentofsublimeprophecy。Helaybelly-flatandwriggledtowardstheMess-tentdoor，ahandontheamuletroundhisneck。
　　Itwasashesuspected。TheSahibsprayedtotheirGod；forinthecentreoftheMess-table-itssoleornamentwhentheywereonthelineofmarch-stoodagoldenbullfashionedfromold-timelootoftheSummerPalaceatPekin-ared-goldbullwithloweredhead，rampinguponafieldofIrishgreen。TohimtheSahibsheldouttheirglassesandcriedaloudconfusedly。
　　NowtheReverendArthurBennettalwaysleftMessafterthattoast，andbeingrathertiredbyhismarchhismovementsweremoreabruptthanusual。
　　Kim，withslightlyraisedhead，wasstillstaringathistotemonthetable，whentheChaplainsteppedonhisrightshoulder-blade。Kimflinchedundertheleather，and，rollingsideways，broughtdowntheChaplain，who，everamanofaction，caughthimbythethroatandnearlychokedthelifeoutofhim。Kimthenkickedhimdesperatelyinthestomach。MrBennettgaspedanddoubledup，butwithoutrelaxinghisgrip，rolledoveragain，andsilentlyhauledKimtohisowntent。TheMaverickswereincurablepracticaljokers；
　　anditoccurredtotheEnglishmanthatsilencewasbesttillhehadmadecompleteinquiry。