visionaries: as it has been from the beginning and will continue to the end.
“Um!” said the soldier of the Ludhiana Sikhs. “There was a Mohammedan regiment lay next to us at the Pirzai Kotal, and a priest of theirs—he was, as I remember, a naik —when the fit was on him, spake prophecies. But the mad all are in God’s keeping. His officers overlooked much in that man.”
The lama fell back on Urdu, remembering that he was in a strange land. “Hear the tale of the Arrow which our Lord loosed from the bow,” he said.
This was much more to their taste, and they listened curiously while he told it. “Now, O people of Hind, I go to seek that River. Know ye aught that may guide me, for we be all men and women in evil case.”
“There is Gunga—and Gunga alone—who washes away sin,” ran the murmur round the carriage.
“Though past question we have good Gods Jullundur-way,” said the cultivator’s wife, looking out of the window. “See how they have blessed the crops.”
“To search every river in the Punjab is no small matter,” said her husband. “For me, a stream that leaves good silt on my land suffices, and I thank Bhumia, the God of the Homestead.” He shrugged one knotted, bronzed shoulder.
“Think you our Lord came so far North?” said the lama, turning to Kim.
“It may be,” Kim replied soothingly, as he spat red pan -juice on the floor.
“The last of the Great Ones,” said the Sikh with authority, “was Sikander Julkarn. He paved the streets of Jullundur and built a great tank near