` Oh , our tales will agree , ' said Kim , laughing . ` We go to Benares , ' said the lama , as soon as he understood the drift of Mahbub Ali 's questions . ` The boy and I , I go to seek for a certain River . ' ` Maybe -- but the boy ? ' ` He is my disciple . He was sent , I think , to guide me to that River . Sitting under a gun was I when he came suddenly . Such things have befallen the fortunate to whom guidance was allowed . But I remember now , he said he was of this world -- a Hindu . ' ` And his name ? ' ` That I did not ask . Is he not my disciple ? ' ` His country -- his race -- his village ? Mussalman -- Sikh Hindu -- Jain -- low caste or high ? ' ` Why should I ask ? There is neither high nor low in the Middle Way . If he is my chela -- does -- will -- can anyone take him from me ? for , look you , without him I shall not find my River . ' He wagged his head solemnly . ` None shall take him from thee .
Go , sit among my Baltis , ' said Mahbub Ali , and the XXXXX drifted off , soothed by the promise .
Ali Benares Hindu Jain Kim Mussalman River Way chela lama