d declared that my chela
should find his desire within two days. But what said he of the
meaning of the stars, Friend of all the World?'

Kim cleared his throat and looked around at the village greybeards.

'The meaning of my Star is War,' he replied pompously.

Somebody laughed at the little tattered figure strutting on the
brickwork plinth under the great tree. Where a native would have lain
down, Kim's white blood set him upon his feet.

'Ay, War,' he answered.

'That is a sure prophecy,' rumbled a deep voice. 'For there is always
war along the Border--as I know.'

It was an old, withered man, who had served the Government in the days
of the Mutiny as a native officer in a newly raised cavalry regiment.
The Government had given him a good holding in the village, and though
the demands of his sons, now grey-bearded officers on their own
account, had impoverished him, he was still a person of consequence.
English officials--Deputy Commissioners even--turned aside from the
main road to visit him, and on those occasions he dressed himself in
the uniform of ancient days, and stood up like a ramrod.

'But this shall be a great war--a war of eight thousand.' Kim's voice
shrilled across the quick-gathering crowd, astonishing himself.

'Redcoats or our own regiments?' the old man snapped, as though he
were asking an equal. His tone made men respect Kim.

'Redcoats,' said Kim at a venture. 'Redcoats and guns.'

'But--but the astrologer said no word of this,' cried the lama,
snuffing prodigiously in his excitement.

'But I know. The word has come to me, who am this Holy One's disciple.
There will rise a war--a war of eight thousand redcoats. From Pindi and
Peshawur they will be drawn. This is sure.'

'The boy has heard bazar-talk,' said the priest.

'But he was always by my side,' said the lama. 'How should he know? I
did not know.'

'He will make a clever juggler when the old man is dead,' muttered the
priest to the headman. 'What new trick is this?'

'A sign. Give me a sign,' thundered the old soldier suddenly. 'If
there were war my sons would have told me.'

'When all is ready, thy sons, doubt not, will be told. But it is a
long road from thy sons to the man in whose hands these things lie.'
Kim warmed to the game, for it reminded him of experiences in the
letter-carrying line, when, for the sake of a few pice, he pretended to
know more than he knew. But now he was playing for larger things-