Half of them were thin-legged , grey-bearded Ooryas from down country . The other half were duffle-clad , felt-hatted hillmen of the North ; and that mixture told its own tale , even if he had not overheard the incessant sparring between the two divisions . The old lady was going south on a visit -- probably to a rich relative , most probably to a son-in-law , who had sent up an escort as a mark of respect . The hillmen would be of her own people -- Kulu or Kangra folk . It was quite clear that she was not taking her daughter down to be wedded , or the curtains would have been laced home and the guard would have allowed no one near the car . A merry and a high-spirited dame , thought Kim , balancing the dung-cake in one hand , the cooked food in the other , and piloting the lama with a nudging shoulder . Something might be made out of the meeting . The lama would give him no help , but , as a conscientious chela , Kim was delighted to beg for two . He built his fire as close to the cart as he dared , waiting for one of the escort to order him away . The lama dropped wearily to the ground , much as a heavy fruit-eating bat cowers , and returned to his rosary . ` Stand farther off , beggar ! ' The order was shouted in broken Hindustani by one of the hillmen . ` Huh ! It is only a pahari -LSB- a hillman -RSB- ' , said Kim over his shoulder . ` Since when have the hill-asses owned all Hindustan ? ' The retort was a swift and brilliant sketch of Kim 's pedigree for three generations . ` Ah ! ' Kim 's voice was sweeter than ever , as he broke the dung-cake into fit pieces . ` In my country we call that the beginning of love-talk . ' A harsh , thin cackle behind the curtains put the hillman on his mettle for a second shot .
` Not so bad -- not so bad , ' said XXXXX with calm .
Kangra Kim Ooryas cackle chela cowers fire hill-asses lama second