How we cite our quotes: (Chapter. Paragraph)
Quote #1
The lama jibbed at the open door of a crowded third-class carriage. 'Were it not better to walk?' said he weakly.
A burly Sikh artisan thrust forth his bearded head. 'Is he afraid? Do not be afraid. I remember the time when I was afraid of the te-rain. Enter! This thing is the work of the Government.' (2.12-13)
This Sikh craftsman attempts to reassure the nervous lama by telling him that this train is the "work of the Government." In other words, don't worry, man, this is a government train—how can it go wrong? Loyalty and faith in the British Indian government is the norm in Kim, rather than the exception—Kipling constantly reinforces that the local people are glad to have the British Indian administration in place.
Quote #2
'My sister's brother's son is naik [corporal] in that regiment,' said the Sikh craftsman quietly. 'There are also some Dogra companies there.' The soldier glared, for a Dogra is of other caste than a Sikh, and the banker tittered.
'They are all one to me,' said the Amritzar girl.
'That we believe,' snorted the cultivator's wife malignantly.
'Nay, but all who serve the Sirkar with weapons in their hands are, as it were, one brotherhood. There is one brotherhood of the caste, but beyond that again'—she looked round timidly—'the bond of the Pulton—the Regiment—eh?' (2.38-41)
(By the way, the Sirkar is the Government.) Here, the farmer's wife is mocking the Amritzar girl for not being very choosy in her male companions, which would seem to be an example of disloyalty rather than loyalty. But what the Amritzar girl really means when she says that soldiers "are all one to [her]" is that all members of the Indian army—be they Sikh, Dogra, or any other group—are part of the same brotherhood. So membership in the army can/should overcome cultural and class differences.
Quote #3
'Let him live out his life.' The coiled thing hissed and half opened its hood. 'May thy release come soon, brother!' the lama continued placidly. 'Hast thou knowledge, by chance, of my River?'
'Never have I seen such a man as thou art,' Kim whispered, overwhelmed. 'Do the very snakes understand thy talk?'
'Who knows?' He passed within a foot of the cobra's poised head. It flattened itself among the dusty coils.
'Come, thou!' he called over his shoulder.
'Not I,' said Kim. 'I go round.'
'Come. He does no hurt.'
Kim hesitated for a moment. The lama backed his order by some droned Chinese quotation which Kim took for a charm. He obeyed and bounded across the rivulet, and the snake, indeed, made no sign.
'Never have I seen such a man.' Kim wiped the sweat from his forehead. 'And now, whither go we?' (3.23-30)
Initially the lama and Kim seem to come together out of mutual convenience. Kim is curious—he's never seen a guy quite like the lama, and he wants to know more—and the lama wants to teach someone new about his ways; he also wants some help in traveling across India looking for his River of the Arrow. But as the two of them travel, they find genuine reasons to like and respect each other. We can really see Kim's loyalty to the lama developing in Chapter 3, when the lama encourages Kim to walk past this cobra in the field.
Quote #4
'Was there ever such a disciple as I?' he cried merrily to the lama. 'All earth would have picked thy bones within ten mile of Lahore city if I had not guarded thee.'
'I consider in my own mind whether thou art a spirit, sometimes, or sometimes an evil imp,' said the lama, smiling slowly.
'I am thy chela.' Kim dropped into step at his side—that indescribable gait of the long-distance tramp all the world over. (4.23-5)
Kim's loyalty to the lama increasingly seems to be absolute—he loves the guy almost like a father. But while Kim may be emotionally loyal to the lama, he does not follow any of the lama's moral or religious codes. It's really a weird pairing when you think about it, since the lama also seems to realize that Kim isn't following him as a Buddhist. But the lama enjoys Kim's company and likes traveling with him, so Kim's ambiguous morality doesn't appear to be a huge deal for this otherwise devoted religious man.
Quote #5
Here was deadly insult on deadlier injury—and the Sahib to whom he had so craftily given that war-waking letter heard it all. Kim beheld Mahbub Ali frying in flame for his treachery, but for himself he saw one long grey vista of barracks, schools, and barracks again. He gazed imploringly at the clear-cut face in which there was no glimmer of recognition; but even at this extremity it never occurred to him to throw himself on the white man's mercy or to denounce the Afghan. And Mahbub stared deliberately at the Englishman, who stared as deliberately at Kim, quivering and tongue-tied.
'My horse is well trained,' said the dealer. 'Others would have kicked, Sahib.' (6.109-10)
This whole exchange is a little creepy: Mahbub Ali has raised Kim's hopes of rescue from School by arriving at the regiment and carrying Kim away on horseback. But actually, Mahbub Ali has no intention of keeping Kim away from school. Mahbub Ali knows that he is going to confuse and hurt Kim by not rescuing him, and, even worse in Kim's mind, by spilling all of Kim's secrets to this unknown Englishman.
In fact, Mahbub wants to hurt Kim, because he is testing Kim's loyalty in front of Creighton to prove that the kid can hide his emotions when he needs to. And it works—Kim doesn't say anything, and Mahbub Ali shows that his "horse" (Kim) is "well trained." This spy stuff is pretty sadistic.
Quote #6
They were sons of subordinate officials in the Railway, Telegraph, and Canal Services; of warrant-officers, sometimes retired and sometimes acting as commanders-in-chief to a feudatory Rajah's army; of captains of the Indian Marine Government pensioners, planters, Presidency shopkeepers, and missionaries. A few were cadets of the old Eurasian houses that have taken strong root in Dhurrumtollah—Pereiras, De Souzas, and D'Silvas. Their parents could well have educated them in England, but they loved the school that had served their own youth, and generation followed sallow-hued generation at St Xavier's. (7.76)
This loyalty among European-Indian families to St. Xavier's School when they "could well have educated [their sons] in England" shows an emerging Anglo-Indian class system in British India. These boys belong to a group of Europeans born and raised in India, whose parents have also been born and raised in India, who remain attached to India and its institutions rather thanto Europe.
We can't help but wonder if there is some wishful thinking on Kipling's part here, since his own experience of being sent away from India to be educated in England was so horrible. (Check out "In a Nutshell" to find out more about Kipling's hateful school story.)
Quote #7
'Wah! That work is done. May the boy be better for it; and Huneefa is surely a mistress of dawut. Help haul her aside, Babu. Do not be afraid.'
'How am I to fear the absolutely non-existent?' said Hurree Babu, talking English to reassure himself. It is an awful thing still to dread the magic that you contemptuously investigate—to collect folk-lore for the Royal Society with a lively belief in all Powers of Darkness. (10.102-3)
Kipling sets up the Babu as caught between two loyalties: He expresses an intellectual attachment to English science, since he collects folklore for the Royal Society; but at the same time, he feels a great loyalty to local beliefs in "all Powers of Darkness"—in other words, to the content of that folklore he is supposedly collecting for social scientific analysis.
Quote #8
The lama turned to Kim, and all the loving old soul of him looked out through his narrow eyes.
'To heal the sick is to acquire merit; but first one gets knowledge. That was wisely done, O Friend of all the World.'
'I was made wise by thee, Holy One,' said Kim, forgetting the little play just ended; forgetting St Xavier's; forgetting his white blood; forgetting even the Great Game as he stooped, Mohammedan-fashion, to touch his master's feet in the dust of the Jain temple. 'My teaching I owe to thee. I have eaten thy bread three years. My time is finished. I am loosed from the schools. I come to thee.' (11.46-8)
We have to love Kim's loyalty to the lama and to his quest for the River of the Arrow, in spite of all of the distractions—including a formal education and his goal to become a player in the Great Game—that might make him forget about his old friend. Kipling emphasizes loyalty between people as the highest proof of humanity and morality: when the lama asks if Kim has ever wanted to leave him behind, Kim answers proudly, "I am not a dog or a snake to bite when I have learned to love" (15.21).
(But, we do want to say: we are stunned at that brief line in this passage about Kim "forgetting his white blood" here, as though, if he remembered his white blood, he could not treat the lama with exactly the same degree of love and loyalty that he does otherwise. Again, race is a constant theme in this book, appearing on nearly every page, even at moments that don't seem otherwise to be about race.)
Quote #9
'Not he. He is wearied, and I forgot, being a grandmother. (None but a grandmother should ever oversee a child. Mothers are only fit for bearing.) Tomorrow, when he sees how my daughter's son is grown, he will write the charm. Then, too, he can judge of the new hakim's drugs.' (12.80)
We admit that this is a small point to bring up, but the Kulu woman's disloyal way of talking about her own daughter freaks us out a little. Maybe we are taking this a little too personally, and we're glad that the Kulu woman loves her grandsons so much, but really—doesn't she feel any concern or respect for her poor daughter? Why does she think her daughter is only good for having children, and not for raising them?
Quote #10
'I have been Fostum Sahib's shikarri, and I am Yankling Sahib's shikarri. I should have been with Yankling Sahib now but for this cursed beegar [the corvee]. Let two men watch below with the guns lest the Sahibs do more foolishness. I shall not leave this Holy One.' […]
'How he stood up against us!' said a Spiti man admiring. 'I remember an old ibex, out Ladakh-way, that Dupont Sahib missed on a shoulder-shot, seven seasons back, standing up just like him. Dupont Sahib was a good shikarri.'
'Not as good as Yankling Sahib.' The Ao-chung man took a pull at the whisky-bottle and passed it over. 'Now hear me—unless any other man thinks he knows more.' (13.109-12)
For those of you out there who might be working a job, let us ask you a couple of questions: Do you ever sit around a bonfire thinking back on your old bosses with your friends? Do you remember fondly what good bosses these guys may have been? Do you compete with your friends over who had the better boss? If you do all of these things, congratulations: it sounds like you have a really amazing workplace.
But while we love our employers here at Shmoop, we don't spend all of our time sitting around and thinking fondly of them. This level of sentimental loyalty that Kipling seems to imagine from these low-paid, seasonal workers seems pretty unlikely to us.
Quote #11
'Look, here is the letter from Hilas!' He intoned a line or two of Court Persian, which is the language of authorized and unauthorized diplomacy. 'Mister Rajah Sahib has just about put his foot in the holes. He will have to explain offeecially how the deuce-an'-all he is writing love-letters to the Czar. And they are very clever maps ... and there is three or four Prime Ministers of these parts implicated by the correspondence. By Gad, sar! The British Government will change the succession in Hilas and Bunar, and nominate new heirs to the throne. "Trea-son most base" ... but you do not understand? Eh?' (15.82)
The Babu is thrilled to get solid evidence that the two northern kings, Hilas and Bunar, who hadbeen working with the British government are actually writing so-called "love-letters to the Czar" of Russia. But we're interested in the way that the Babu describes this double-cross: as "trea-son." Treason means working for the overthrow of a rightful government. It never seems to occur to the Babu as a possibility that maybe Hilas and Bunar don't feel like they owe England their loyalty.
He interprets this change of allegiance as treasonrather than as the breaking of a contract or as simple deception because, for the Babu, the British Indian government appears both right and natural. Again, we can never ignore Kipling's imperialist politics.