‘Go away!’ said Frau Ebermann. ‘Go home to your father and mother! ‘
Their faces grew grave at once.
‘H’sh! We can’t,’ whispered the eldest ‘There isn’t anything left.’
‘All gone,’ a boy echoed, and he puffed through pursed lips. ‘Like that, uncle told me. Both cows too.’
‘And my own three ducks,’ the boy on the girl’s lap said sleepily.
‘So, you see, we came here.’
This is from Kim. Kim and the Lama have reached the Grand Trunk Road, the great river of life that crosses northern India. They have made the acquaintance of the Sahiba, a sharp-tongued old lady, travelling in a covered cart with a retinue of hillmen and down-country ooryas. Here Kim is rejoicing in the scene as the host of travellers around them wake from their night’s rest at daybreak.