Oh, sar! sar! You must not hit holyman!' 'Chela! He has defiled the Written Word!' It was too late.

Before Kim could ward him off, the Russian struck the old man full on the face.

Next instant he was rolling over and over downhill with Kim at his throat.

The blow had waked every unknown Irish devil in the boy's blood, and the sudden fall of his enemy did the rest.

The lama dropped to his knees, half-stunned; the coolies under their loads fled up the hill as fast as plainsmen run aross the level.