‘Babuji,’ said Mahbub in the vernacular. ‘I have no regard for the devils of Hind, but the Sons of Eblis are far otherwise, and whether they be jumalee (well-affected) or jullalee (terrible) they love not Kafirs.’
‘Then you think I had better go?’ said Hurree Babu, half rising. ‘They are, of course, dematerialised phenomena. Spencer says——’
Huneefa’s crisis passed, as these things must, in a paroxysm of howling, with a touch of froth at the lips. She lay spent and motionless beside Kim, and the crazy voices ceased.
‘Wah! That work is done. May the boy be better for it; and Huneefa is surely a mistress of dawut. Help haul her aside, Babu. Do not be afraid.’
‘How am I to fear the absolutely non-existent?’ said Hurree Babu, talking English to reassure himself. It is an awful thing still to dread the magic that you contemptuously investigate—to collect folk-lore for the Royal Society with a lively belief in all Powers of Darkness.
Mahbub chuckled. He had been out with Hurree on the Road ere now. ‘Let us finish the colouring,’ said he. ‘The boy is well protected if—if the Lords of the Air have ears to hear. I am a sufi (free-thinker), but when one can get blind-sides of a woman, a stallion, or a devil, why go round to invite a kick? Set him upon the way, Babu, and see that old Red Hat does not lead him beyond our reach. I must get back to my horses.’
‘All raight,’ said Hurree Babu. ‘He is at present a curious spectacle.’
· · · · · · ·
About third cock-crow, Kim woke after a sleep of thousands of years. Huneefa, in her corner, snored heavily, but Mahbub was gone.
‘I hope you were not frightened,’ said an oily voice at his elbow. ‘I superintended entire operation, which was most interesting from ethnological point of view. It was high-class dawut.’
‘Huh!’ said Kim, recognising Hurree Babu, who smiled ingratiatingly.
‘And also I had honour to bring down from Lurgan your present costume. I am not in the habit offeecially of carrying such gauds to subordinates, but’—he giggled—‘your case is noted as exceptional on the books. I hope Mr. Lurgan will note my action.’
Kim yawned and stretched himself. It was good to turn and twist within loose clothes once again.
‘What is this?’ He looked curiously at the heavy duffle-stuff loaded with the scents of the far North.
‘Oho! That is inconspicuous dress of chela attached to service of lamaistic lama. Complete in every particular,’ said Hurree Babu, rolling into the balcony to clean his teeth at a goglet. ‘I am of opeenion it is not your old gentleman’s precise religion, but rather sub-variant of same. I have contributed rejected notes to Asiatic Quarterly Review on these subjects. Now it is curious that the old gentleman himself is totally devoid of religiosity. He is not a dam particular.’
‘Do you know him?’
Hurree Babu held up his hand to show he was engaged in the prescribed rites that accompany tooth-cleaning and such things among decently bred Bengalis. Then he recited in English an Arya-Somaj prayer of a theistical nature, and stuffed his mouth with pan and betel.
‘Oah yes. I have met him several times at Benares, and also at Buddh Gaya, to interrogate him on religious points and devil-worship. He is pure agnostic—same as me.’
Huneefa stirred in her sleep, and Hurree Babu jumped nervously to the copper incense-burner, all black and discoloured in morning-light, rubbed a finger in the accumulated lampblack, and drew it diagonally across his face.
‘Who has died in thy house?’ asked Kim in the vernacular.
‘None. But she may have the Evil Eye—that sorceress,’ the Babu replied.
‘What dost thou do now, then?’
‘I will set thee on thy way to Benares, if thou goest thither, and tell thee what must be known by Us.’
‘I go. At what hour runs the te-rain?’ He rose to his feet, looked round the desolate chamber and at the yellow-wax face of Huneefa as the low sun stole across the floor. ‘Is there money to be paid that witch?’
‘No. She has charmed thee against all devils and all dangers—in the name of her devils. It was Mahbub’s desire.’ In English: ‘He is highly obsolete, I think, to indulge in such supersteetion. Why, it is all ventriloquy. Belly-speak—eh?’
Kim snapped his fingers mechanically to avert whatever evil—Mahbub, he knew, meditated none—might have crept in through Huneefa’s ministrations; and Hurree giggled once more. But as he crossed the room he was careful not to step in Huneefa’s blotched, squat shadow on the boards. Witches—when their time is on them—can lay hold of the heels of a man’s soul if he does that.
‘Now you must well listen,’ said the Babu when they were in the fresh air. ‘Part of these ceremonies which we witnessed they include supply of effeecient amulet to those of our Department. If you feel in your neck you will find one small silver amulet, verree cheap. That is ours. Do you understand?’
‘Oah yes, hawa-dilli’ (a heart-lifter), said Kim, feeling at his neck.
‘Huneefa she makes them for two rupees twelve annas with—oh, all sorts of exorcisms. They are quite common, except they are partially black enamel, and there is a paper inside each one full of names of local saints and such things. Thatt is Huneefa’s look-out, you see? Huneefa makes them onlee for us, but in case she does not, when we get them we put in, before issue, one small piece of turquoise. Mr. Lurgan, he gives them. There is no other source of supply; but it was me invented all this. It is strictly unoffeecial of course, but convenient for subordinates. Colonel Creighton he does not know. He is European. The turquoise is wrapped in the paper…. Yes, that is road to railway station…. Now suppose you go with the lama, or with me, I hope, some day, or with Mahbub. Suppose we get into a dam-tight place. I am a fearful man—most fearful—but I tell you I have been in dam-tight places more than hairs on my head. You say: “I am Son of the Charm.” Verree good.’
‘I do not understand quite. We must not be heard talking English here.’
‘That is all raight. I am only Babu showing off my English to you. All we Babus talk English to show off,’ said Hurree, flinging his shoulder-cloth jauntily. ‘As I was about to say, “Son of the Charm” means that you may be member of the Sat Bhai—the Seven Brothers, which is Hindi and Tantric. It is popularly supposed to be extinct society, but I have written notes to show it is still extant. You see it is all my invention. Verree good. Sat Bhai has many members, and perhaps before they jolly-well-cut-your-throat they may give you just a chance for life. That is useful, anyhow. And moreover, these foolish natives—if they are not too excited—they always stop to think before they kill a man who says he belongs to any speecific organisation. You see? You say then when you are in tight place, “I am Son of the Charm,” and you get—perhaps—ah—your second wind. That is only in extreme instances, or to open negotiations with a stranger. Can you quite see? Verree good. But suppose now, I, or any one of the Department, come to you dressed quite different. You would not know me at all unless I choose, I bet you. Some day I will prove it. I come as Ladakhi trader—oh anything—and I say to you: “You want to buy precious stones?” You say: “Do I look like a man who buys precious stones?” Then I say: “Even verree poor man can buy a turquoise or tarkeean.”’
‘That is kichree—vegetable curry,’ said Kim.
‘Of course it is. You say: “Let me see the tarkeean.” Then I say: “It was cooked by a woman, and perhaps it is bad for your caste.” Then you say: “There is no caste when men go to—look for tarkeean.” You stop a little between those words, “to—look.” That is thee whole secret. The little stop before the words.’