The lama fell back on Urdu , remembering that he was in a strange land . ` Hear the tale of the Arrow which our Lord loosed from the bow , ' he said . This was much more to their taste , and they listened curiously while he told it . ` Now , O people of Hind , I go to seek that River . Know ye aught that may guide me , for we be all men and women in evil case . ' ` There is Gunga -- and Gunga alone -- who washes away sin . ' ran the murmur round the carriage . ` Though past question we have good Gods Jullundur-way , ' said the cultivator 's wife , looking out of the window . ` See how they have blessed the crops . ' ` To search every river in the Punjab is no small matter , ' said her husband . ` For me , a stream that leaves good silt on my land suffices , and I thank Bhumia , the God of the Home-stead . ' He shrugged one knotted , bronzed shoulder . ` Think you our Lord came so far North ? ' said the lama , turning to Kim . ` It may be , ' Kim replied soothingly , as he spat red pan-juice on the floor . ` The last of the Great Ones , ' said the Sikh with authority , ` was Sikander Julkarn -LSB- Alexander the Great -RSB- . He paved the streets of Jullundur and built a great tank near Umballa . That pavement holds to this day ; and the tank is there also . I never heard of thy God . ' ` Let thy hair grow long and talk Punjabi , ' said the young soldier jestingly to Kim , quoting a Northern proverb .
` That is all that makes a XXXXX . '
Bhumia Home-stead Jullundur Jullundur-way Northern Punjab Sikh lama pan-juice silt