Kim Page #2

Kim led the lama

through the hustling throng...

which always gathered

near the Kashmir Serai Gate...

where the caravans

made their encampment...

before entering the city of Lahore...

to the huge, open square...

where the camel

and horse caravans paused...

on their return north from Central Asia.

Here were all manner of traders.

Men from Kashmir,

men from Afghanistan...

camel drivers, grooms, elephant tenders...

All the races of Upper India.

Kim made straight for the quarters

of the man he envied...

and admired most in all India:

Mahbub Ali, the red-bearded horse trader.

Mahbub Ali?

A lama.

Here is a priest of the god Buddha.

See if he'd be hungry.

The Holy One will come to the fire.

I will come to you later.

He needs taking care of. He is but a child.

What are you doing

with this lama from Tibet?

He's friendless, quite mad. He wants me

to travel with him to Benares.

And do you go?

No. I've decided to travel with you.

Indeed.

Marsala.

What perfume!

The beard becomes silk.

Try it next time you grow one.

Umballa is on the way to Benares.

If you travel as far as Umballa

with your holy man, I'll pay you well.

He who travels alone travels faster.

But not as safely.

I wish you to travel

as the holy man's chela.

What must I do?

I have a message for you to deliver.

What's the message?

I wish...

I know the ways of horses

and seek service in your caravan.

Go to my head man. Ask him.

Leave it open.

Closed doors invite inquisitive eyes.

Put up your hands as though begging.

Be charitable, O protector of the poor.

In Umballa, you'll seek out

Creighton sahib.

My mother is dead! My father is dead!

You'll say to him, "The pedigree

of the white stallion is fully established. "

Give alms to the poor, O maharajah.

Then he'll know you come from me

and he'll ask you for proof.

Win merit in the hereafter.

My stomach is empty.

You'll say, "The Red Beard

has given me the proof. "

- My mother is dead...

- Are you the only beggar in this city?

Your parents are dead! Your sister's dead!

Your dog's dead! So it is with all of you.

Here's bread.

Thank you, O protector of the poor.

To hear is to obey.

Chew it well.

I shall be trading horses

down the Grand Trunk Road.

Perhaps there will be more rupees for you,

little friend of all the world.

The moon is falling.

This is the hour of beauty.

She's younger than some and prettier

than many that you've sent me to.

The sky's the same color wherever you go.

To a small boy...

the Red Beard had entrusted

a big message...

upon which many lives depended.

Although Kim could not understand

the meaning...

of the five holes in the parchment...

it was for him the beginning

of the Great Game.

Come in. He's drunk beyond hearing.

He's a red-bearded goat.

You will pay me well for this.

There's nothing. I searched the soles

of his sandals and folds of his turban.

- They're as empty as his head.

- He could have sent it away by now.

I think he's no more than

a pleasure-hungry horse trader.

They did not say it was Mahbub Ali.

They said a horse trader.

The country's full of horse traders.

Take the goat with you.

No. Watch him well.

Hassan Bey is searching his belongings.

He may find that for which we look.

Wake, Holy One.

It is your chela.

My chela. Thou?

Thy mind changes.

I go with you.

It was so ordained.

- Be quick.

- What, why now?

The train departs at daybreak.

It was so ordained.

This is the work of the devil.

No. It is the work of the government.

Be not afraid.

When I was young,

I, too, was afraid of the train.

Come.

While Kim was carrying the message

to Colonel Creighton...

that gentleman, as head

of the British-Indian Secret Service...

was receiving disturbing reports

from his agents.

Reports that warned

of bloodshed and plunder.

- Salaam, sahib.

- Chunder.

I hardly recognized you in that beard.

It is easy to disguise the face, sahib,

but with me, the real difficulty is here.

- There is much trouble coming, sahib.

- Yes.

All reports indicate attacks from the north.

Here is my report, sahib.

Lurgan.

I'm delighted to see you, but what

are you doing so far away from your post?

There are times when one is afraid

to trust a third person...

or even a cohort.

But for the belly,

I'd never have recognized you.

There's real trouble, Colonel.

No roving bands of hillmen this time...

but a well-organized, full-scale attack.

Yes.

Even Simla's crawling with their spies.

Looks like history is repeating itself.

Russian influence again advances

like a tide throughout Central Asia.

Another Afghan war.

The Czar is once more sending arms

and supplies across this border...

as they did in 1878.

His agents and staff officers

are in Afghanistan.

They are organizing the hillmen

for a sweep through the Khyber Pass...

down into the plains of India.

Well, the pattern's very clear.

The vital question is

when and where they'll strike.

I sent the Red Beard north

to get that information.

I should've heard from him. I'm afraid...

Well, don't worry

about Mahbub Ali, Colonel.

He bears a charmed life.

You will resume your disguise as the

cab driver at Lucknow railway station...

and observe all Europeans

coming from the north by train.

Yes, sahib.

I wish you both a jolly good day.

Now, give me your report.

The General is dining with me tonight,

and he'll want to see this.

Thank you.

Be sure the Commander sahib's curry

is the way he likes it. Very hot.

Yes, sahib.

O protector of the poor.

The pedigree of the white stallion

is fully established.

What proof have you?

The Red Beard has given me this proof.

Perhaps another coin for my holy man

who awaits with an empty belly.

- Good evening, sir.

- Good evening.

- How are you, sir?

- Hungry, I could eat a horse.

I have one cooking for you, sir.

It may be a little indigestible.

A white stallion from Lahore.

Come into the map room, sir.

- Peters, help yourself to a peg.

- Thank you, sir.

The white stallion message came through.

They'll strike from these five points.

With my lancers, the artillery

and the mavericks...

we'll have 8,000 men in the field

if we force-march.

This means war.

My compliments to Colonel Stevenson.

He's to report here at once.

Yes, sir.

Colonel Stevenson.

Rest you.

I go beget our evening meal.

I beg for a very holy man,

and he is also very hungry.

Today is not a fast day.

- A little meat, perhaps, and fried rice.

- Begone.

The world is too full of holy men who

expect to eat the food of those who toil.

- Is he very ill?

- Nay.

- Perhaps the devil's entered into him.

- It is only his father's temper.

Such a handsome baby,

but I fear he's very ill.

I've seen things like this before.

What evil hangs over us, my little frog?

Hush, my little owl.

My lama's a very great and holy man.

Only yesterday, a woman came to him

with a great, burning pain here.

After the holy man blessed her,

the evil came out...

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