` Peace . One must not speak of these things here , ' whispered Kim . ` There was but one of me . Think again and thou wilt remember . A boy -- a Hindu boy -- by the great green cannon . ' ` But was there not also an Englishman with a white beard holy among images -- who himself made more sure my assurance of the River of the Arrow ? ' ` He -- we -- went to the Ajaib-Gher in Lahore to pray before the Gods there , ' Kim explained to the openly listening company . ` And the Sahib of the Wonder House talked to him -- yes , this is truth as a brother . He is a very holy man , from far beyond the Hills . Rest , thou . In time we come to Umballa . ' ` But my River -- the River of my healing ? ' ` And then , if it please thee , we will go hunting for that River on foot . So that we miss nothing -- not even a little rivulet in a field-side . ' ` But thou hast a Search of thine own ? ' The lama -- very pleased that he remembered so well -- sat bolt upright . ` Ay , ' said Kim , humouring him . The boy was entirely happy to be out chewing pan and seeing new people in the great good-tempered world . ` It was a bull -- a Red Bull that shall come and help thee and carry thee -- whither ? I have forgotten .
A XXXXX Bull on a green field , was it not ? '
Ay Englishman Hills Hindu Kim Lahore Red Umballa lama rivulet