But I do not know that other . He marches well , though . ' The first freshness of the day carried the lama forward with long , easy , camel-like strides . He was deep in meditation , mechanically clicking his rosary . They followed the rutted and worn country road that wound across the flat between the great dark-green mango-groves , the line of the snowcapped Himalayas faint to the eastward . All India was at work in the fields , to the creaking of well-wheels , the shouting of ploughmen behind their cattle , and the clamour of the crows . Even the pony felt the good influence and almost broke into a trot as Kim laid a hand on the stirrup-leather . ` It repents me that I did not give a rupee to the shrine , ' said the lama on the last bead of his eighty-one . The old soldier growled in his beard , so that the lama for the first time was aware of him . ` Seekest thou the River also ? ' said he , turning . ` The day is new , ' was the reply . ` What need of a river save to water at before sundown ? I come to show thee a short lane to the Big Road . ' ` That is a courtesy to be remembered , O man of good will . But why the sword ? ' The old soldier looked as abashed as a child interrupted in his game of make-believe . ` The sword , ' he said , fumbling it . ` Oh , that was a fancy of mine an old man 's fancy . Truly the police orders are that no man must bear weapons throughout Hind , but ' -- he cheered up and slapped the hilt -- ` all the constabeels hereabout know me . '
` It is not a good fancy , ' said the XXXXX .
Himalayas India clamour constabeels first lama mango-groves ploughmen rosary stirrup-leather