Like most grossly superstitious folk , the Kamboh could not keep his tongue from deriding his Church . ` Will thy son be a priest , then ? It is time he took more of my quinine . ' ` We Jats are all buffaloes , ' said the Kamboh , softening anew . Kim rubbed a finger-tip of bitterness on the child 's trusting little lips . ' I have asked for nothing , ' he said sternly to the father , ` except food . Dost thou grudge me that ? I go to heal another man . Have I thy leave -- Prince ? ' Up flew the man 's huge paws in supplication . ` Nay -- nay . Do not mock me thus . ' ` It pleases me to cure this sick one . Thou shalt acquire merit by aiding . What colour ash is there in thy pipe-bowl ? White . That is auspicious . Was there raw turmeric among thy foodstuffs ? ' ` I -- I -- ' ` Open thy bundle ! ' It was the usual collection of small oddments : bits of cloth , quack medicines , cheap fairings , a clothful of atta -- greyish , rough-ground native flour -- twists of down-country tobacco , tawdry pipe-stems , and a packet of curry-stuff , all wrapped in a quilt .
XXXXX turned it over with the air of a wise warlock , muttering a Mohammedan invocation .
Kamboh Kim colour finger-tip oddments pipe-stems quilt supplication tobacco turmeric