第72章 Chapter 11(7)

'A healing against the shadow of death,'said Kim,mixing the Kamboh's flour with the mingled charcoal and tobacco ash in the red-earth bowl of the pipe.E23,without a word,slipped off his turban and shook down his long black hair.

'That is my food -priest,'the Jat growled.

'A buffalo in the temple!Hast thou dared to look even thus me far?'

said Kim.'I must do mysteries before fools;but have a care for thine eyes.Is there a film before them already?I save the babe,and for return thou -oh,shameless!'The man flinched at the direct gaze,for Kim was wholly in earnest.'Shall I curse thee,or shall I -'He picked up the outer cloth of the bundle and threw it over the bowed head.'Dare so much as to think a wish to see,and -and -even I cannot save thee.Sit!Be dumb!'

'I am blind -dumb.Forbear to curse!Co -come,child;we will play a game of hiding.Do not,for my sake,look from under the cloth.'

'I see hope,'said E23.'What is thy scheme?'

'This comes next,'said Kim,plucking the thin body-shirt.E23hesitated,with all a North-West man's dislike of baring his body.

'What is caste to a cut throat?'said Kim,rending it to the waist.

'We must make thee a yellow Saddhu all over.Strip -strip swiftly,and shake thy hair over thine eyes while I scatter the ash.Now,a caste-mark on thy forehead.'He drew from his bosom the little Survey paint-box and a cake of crimson lake.

'Art thou only a beginner?'said E23,labouring literally for the dear life,as he slid out of his body-wrappings and stood clear in the loin-cloth while Kim splashed in a noble caste-mark on the ash-smeared brow.

'But two days entered to the Game,brother,'Kim replied.'Smear more ash on the bosom.'

'Hast thou met a physician of sick pearls?'He switched out his long,tight-rolled turban-cloth and,with swiftest hands,rolled it over and under about his loins into the intricate devices of a Saddhu's cincture.

'Hah!Dost thou know his touch,then?He was my teacher for a while.

We must bar thy legs.Ash cures wounds.Smear it again.'

'I was his pride once,but thou art almost better.The Gods are kind to us!Give me that .'

It was a tin box of opium pills among the rubbish of the Jat's bundle.

E23gulped down a half handful.'They are good against hunger,fear,and chill.And they make the eyes red too,'he explained.'Now I shall have heart to play the Game.We lack only a Saddhu's tongs.What of the old clothes?'

Kim rolled them small,and stuffed them into the slack folds of his tunic.With a yellow-ochre paint cake he smeared the legs and the breast,great streaks against the background of flour,ash,and turmeric.

'The blood on them is enough to hang thee,brother.'

'Maybe;but no need to throw them out of the window...It is finished.'

His voice thrilled with a boy's pure delight in the Game.'Turn and look,O Jat!'

'The Gods protect us,'said the hooded Kamboh,emerging like a buffalo from the reeds.'But -whither went the Mahratta?What hast thou done?'