When she turned it was like the clashing of copper pots . A lean cat in the balcony outside the window mewed hungrily . Kim checked , bewildered , at the door-curtain . ` Is that the new stuff , Mahbub ? ' said Huneefa lazily , scarce troubling to remove the mouthpiece from her lips . ' O Buktanoos ! ' -- like most of her kind , she swore by the Djinns -- ' O Buktanoos ! He is very good to look upon . ' ` That is part of the selling of the horse , ' Mahbub explained to Kim , who laughed . ' I have heard that talk since my Sixth Day , ' he replied , squatting by the light . ` Whither does it lead ? ' ` To protection . Tonight we change thy colour . This sleeping under roofs has blanched thee like an almond . But Huneefa has the secret of a colour that catches . No painting of a day or two . Also , we fortify thee against the chances of the Road . That is my gift to thee , my son . Take out all metals on thee and lay them here . Make ready , Huneefa . '
XXXXX dragged forth his compass , Survey paint-box , and the new-filled medicine-box .
Buktanoos Djinns Huneefa Kim Mahbub Road Whither clashing colour door-curtain