Kim would deliver himself of his tale at evening , and Mahbub would listen without a word or gesture . It was intrigue of some kind , Kim knew ; but its worth lay in saying nothing whatever to anyone except Mahbub , who gave him beautiful meals all hot from the cookshop at the head of the serai , and once as much as eight annas in money . ` He is here , ' said Kim , hitting a bad-tempered camel on the nose . ` Ohe . Mahbub Ali ! ' He halted at a dark arch and slipped behind the bewildered lama . The horse-trader , his deep , embroidered Bokhariot belt unloosed , was lying on a pair of silk carpet saddle-bags , pulling lazily at an immense silver hookah . He turned his head very slightly at the cry ; and seeing only the tall silent figure , chuckled in his deep chest . ` Allah ! A lama ! A Red Lama ! It is far from Lahore to the Passes . What dost thou do here ? ' The lama held out the begging-bowl mechanically . ` God 's curse on all unbelievers ! ' said Mahbub . ' I do not give to a lousy Tibetan ; but ask my Baltis over yonder behind the camels . They may value your blessings . Oh , horseboys , here is a countryman of yours . See if he be hungry . '
A shaven , crouching Balti , who had come down with the horses , and who was nominally some sort of degraded Buddhist , fawned upon the priest , and in thick gutturals besought the Holy One to sit at the XXXXX ' fire .
Baltis Bokhariot Kim Lahore Mahbub horseboys lama saddle-bags serai unbelievers