S’doaks was son of Yelth the wise— Chief of the Raven clan. Itswoot the Bear had him in care To make him a medicine-man.
He was quick and quicker to learn— Bold and bolder to dare: He danced the dread Kloo-Kwallie Dance To tickle Itswoot the Bear!
Kim flung himself wholeheartedly upon the next turn of the wheel. He would be a Sahib again for a while. In that idea, so soon as he had reached the broad road under Simla Town Hall, he cast about for one to impress. A Hindu child, some ten years old, squatted under a lamppost.
“Where is Mr. Lurgan’s house?” demanded Kim.
“I do not understand English,” was the answer, and Kim shifted his speech accordingly.
“I will show.”
Together they set off through the mysterious dusk, full of the noises of a city below the hillside, and the breath of a cool wind in deodar-crowned Jakko, shouldering the stars. The houselights, scattered on every level, made, as it were, a double firmament. Some were fixed, others belonged to the rickshaws of the careless, open-spoken English folk, going out to dinner.
“It is here,” said Kim’s guide, and halted in a veranda flush with the main road. No door stayed them, but a curtain of beaded reeds that split up the lamplight beyond.