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diff --git a/1937-h/1937-h.htm b/1937-h/1937-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a216682 --- /dev/null +++ b/1937-h/1937-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8276 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Second Jungle Book, by Rudyard Kipling + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Second Jungle Book, by Rudyard Kipling + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> +<tr> +<td> +THIS EBOOK WAS ONE OF PROJECT GUTENBERG'S EARLY FILES, THERE IS +AN IMPROVED ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY VIEWED AT EBOOK <big><b><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/37364/37364-h/37364-h.htm"> +[ #37364 ]</a></b></big> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Second Jungle Book + +Author: Rudyard Kipling + +Release Date: September 21, 2008 [EBook #1937] +Last Updated: October 7, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECOND JUNGLE BOOK *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE SECOND JUNGLE BOOK + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Rudyard Kipling + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Contents + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> HOW FEAR CAME </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE LAW OF THE JUNGLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE MIRACLE OF PURUN BHAGAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> A SONG OF KABIR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> LETTING IN THE JUNGLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> MOWGLI’S SONG AGAINST PEOPLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE UNDERTAKERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> A RIPPLE SONG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE KING’S ANKUS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE SONG OF THE LITTLE HUNTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> QUIQUERN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> ‘ANGUTIVAUN TAINA’ </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> RED DOG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> CHIL’S SONG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> THE SPRING RUNNING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE OUTSONG </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + HOW FEAR CAME + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The stream is shrunk—the pool is dry, + And we be comrades, thou and I; + With fevered jowl and dusty flank + Each jostling each along the bank; + And by one drouthy fear made still, + Forgoing thought of quest or kill. + Now ‘neath his dam the fawn may see, + The lean Pack-wolf as cowed as he, + And the tall buck, unflinching, note + The fangs that tore his father’s throat. + The pools are shrunk—the streams are dry, + And we be playmates, thou and I, + Till yonder cloud—Good Hunting!—loose + The rain that breaks our Water Truce. +</pre> + <p> + The Law of the Jungle—which is by far the oldest law in the world—has + arranged for almost every kind of accident that may befall the Jungle + People, till now its code is as perfect as time and custom can make it. + You will remember that Mowgli spent a great part of his life in the + Seeonee Wolf-Pack, learning the Law from Baloo, the Brown Bear; and it was + Baloo who told him, when the boy grew impatient at the constant orders, + that the Law was like the Giant Creeper, because it dropped across every + one’s back and no one could escape. “When thou hast lived as long as I + have, Little Brother, thou wilt see how all the Jungle obeys at least one + Law. And that will be no pleasant sight,” said Baloo. + </p> + <p> + This talk went in at one ear and out at the other, for a boy who spends + his life eating and sleeping does not worry about anything till it + actually stares him in the face. But, one year, Baloo’s words came true, + and Mowgli saw all the Jungle working under the Law. + </p> + <p> + It began when the winter Rains failed almost entirely, and Ikki, the + Porcupine, meeting Mowgli in a bamboo-thicket, told him that the wild yams + were drying up. Now everybody knows that Ikki is ridiculously fastidious + in his choice of food, and will eat nothing but the very best and ripest. + So Mowgli laughed and said, “What is that to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much NOW,” said Ikki, rattling his quills in a stiff, uncomfortable + way, “but later we shall see. Is there any more diving into the deep + rock-pool below the Bee-Rocks, Little Brother?” + </p> + <p> + “No. The foolish water is going all away, and I do not wish to break my + head,” said Mowgli, who, in those days, was quite sure that he knew as + much as any five of the Jungle People put together. + </p> + <p> + “That is thy loss. A small crack might let in some wisdom.” Ikki ducked + quickly to prevent Mowgli from pulling his nose-bristles, and Mowgli told + Baloo what Ikki had said. Baloo looked very grave, and mumbled half to + himself: “If I were alone I would change my hunting-grounds now, before + the others began to think. And yet—hunting among strangers ends in + fighting; and they might hurt the Man-cub. We must wait and see how the + mohwa blooms.” + </p> + <p> + That spring the mohwa tree, that Baloo was so fond of, never flowered. The + greeny, cream-coloured, waxy blossoms were heat-killed before they were + born, and only a few bad-smelling petals came down when he stood on his + hind legs and shook the tree. Then, inch by inch, the untempered heat + crept into the heart of the Jungle, turning it yellow, brown, and at last + black. The green growths in the sides of the ravines burned up to broken + wires and curled films of dead stuff; the hidden pools sank down and caked + over, keeping the last least footmark on their edges as if it had been + cast in iron; the juicy-stemmed creepers fell away from the trees they + clung to and died at their feet; the bamboos withered, clanking when the + hot winds blew, and the moss peeled off the rocks deep in the Jungle, till + they were as bare and as hot as the quivering blue boulders in the bed of + the stream. + </p> + <p> + The birds and the monkey-people went north early in the year, for they + knew what was coming; and the deer and the wild pig broke far away to the + perished fields of the villages, dying sometimes before the eyes of men + too weak to kill them. Chil, the Kite, stayed and grew fat, for there was + a great deal of carrion, and evening after evening he brought the news to + the beasts, too weak to force their way to fresh hunting-grounds, that the + sun was killing the Jungle for three days’ flight in every direction. + </p> + <p> + Mowgli, who had never known what real hunger meant, fell back on stale + honey, three years old, scraped out of deserted rock-hives—honey + black as a sloe, and dusty with dried sugar. He hunted, too, for + deep-boring grubs under the bark of the trees, and robbed the wasps of + their new broods. All the game in the jungle was no more than skin and + bone, and Bagheera could kill thrice in a night, and hardly get a full + meal. But the want of water was the worst, for though the Jungle People + drink seldom they must drink deep. + </p> + <p> + And the heat went on and on, and sucked up all the moisture, till at last + the main channel of the Waingunga was the only stream that carried a + trickle of water between its dead banks; and when Hathi, the wild + elephant, who lives for a hundred years and more, saw a long, lean blue + ridge of rock show dry in the very centre of the stream, he knew that he + was looking at the Peace Rock, and then and there he lifted up his trunk + and proclaimed the Water Truce, as his father before him had proclaimed it + fifty years ago. The deer, wild pig, and buffalo took up the cry hoarsely; + and Chil, the Kite, flew in great circles far and wide, whistling and + shrieking the warning. + </p> + <p> + By the Law of the Jungle it is death to kill at the drinking-places when + once the Water Truce has been declared. The reason of this is that + drinking comes before eating. Every one in the Jungle can scramble along + somehow when only game is scarce; but water is water, and when there is + but one source of supply, all hunting stops while the Jungle People go + there for their needs. In good seasons, when water was plentiful, those + who came down to drink at the Waingunga—or anywhere else, for that + matter—did so at the risk of their lives, and that risk made no + small part of the fascination of the night’s doings. To move down so + cunningly that never a leaf stirred; to wade knee-deep in the roaring + shallows that drown all noise from behind; to drink, looking backward over + one shoulder, every muscle ready for the first desperate bound of keen + terror; to roll on the sandy margin, and return, wet-muzzled and well + plumped out, to the admiring herd, was a thing that all tall-antlered + young bucks took a delight in, precisely because they knew that at any + moment Bagheera or Shere Khan might leap upon them and bear them down. But + now all that life-and-death fun was ended, and the Jungle People came up, + starved and weary, to the shrunken river,—tiger, bear, deer, + buffalo, and pig, all together,—drank the fouled waters, and hung + above them, too exhausted to move off. + </p> + <p> + The deer and the pig had tramped all day in search of something better + than dried bark and withered leaves. The buffaloes had found no wallows to + be cool in, and no green crops to steal. The snakes had left the Jungle + and come down to the river in the hope of finding a stray frog. They + curled round wet stones, and never offered to strike when the nose of a + rooting pig dislodged them. The river-turtles had long ago been killed by + Bagheera, cleverest of hunters, and the fish had buried themselves deep in + the dry mud. Only the Peace Rock lay across the shallows like a long + snake, and the little tired ripples hissed as they dried on its hot side. + </p> + <p> + It was here that Mowgli came nightly for the cool and the companionship. + The most hungry of his enemies would hardly have cared for the boy then, + His naked hide made him seem more lean and wretched than any of his + fellows. His hair was bleached to tow colour by the sun; his ribs stood + out like the ribs of a basket, and the lumps on his knees and elbows, + where he was used to track on all fours, gave his shrunken limbs the look + of knotted grass-stems. But his eye, under his matted forelock, was cool + and quiet, for Bagheera was his adviser in this time of trouble, and told + him to go quietly, hunt slowly, and never, on any account, to lose his + temper. + </p> + <p> + “It is an evil time,” said the Black Panther, one furnace-hot evening, + “but it will go if we can live till the end. Is thy stomach full, + Man-cub?” + </p> + <p> + “There is stuff in my stomach, but I get no good of it. Think you, + Bagheera, the Rains have forgotten us and will never come again?” + </p> + <p> + “Not I! We shall see the mohwa in blossom yet, and the little fawns all + fat with new grass. Come down to the Peace Rock and hear the news. On my + back, Little Brother.” + </p> + <p> + “This is no time to carry weight. I can still stand alone, but—indeed + we be no fatted bullocks, we two.” + </p> + <p> + Bagheera looked along his ragged, dusty flank and whispered. “Last night I + killed a bullock under the yoke. So low was I brought that I think I + should not have dared to spring if he had been loose. WOU!” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli laughed. “Yes, we be great hunters now,” said he. “I am very bold—to + eat grubs,” and the two came down together through the crackling + undergrowth to the river-bank and the lace-work of shoals that ran out + from it in every direction. + </p> + <p> + “The water cannot live long,” said Baloo, joining them. “Look across. + Yonder are trails like the roads of Man.” + </p> + <p> + On the level plain of the farther bank the stiff jungle-grass had died + standing, and, dying, had mummied. The beaten tracks of the deer and the + pig, all heading toward the river, had striped that colourless plain with + dusty gullies driven through the ten-foot grass, and, early as it was, + each long avenue was full of first-comers hastening to the water. You + could hear the does and fawns coughing in the snuff-like dust. + </p> + <p> + Up-stream, at the bend of the sluggish pool round the Peace Rock, and + Warden of the Water Truce, stood Hathi, the wild elephant, with his sons, + gaunt and gray in the moonlight, rocking to and fro—always rocking. + Below him a little were the vanguard of the deer; below these, again, the + pig and the wild buffalo; and on the opposite bank, where the tall trees + came down to the water’s edge, was the place set apart for the Eaters of + Flesh—the tiger, the wolves, the panther, the bear, and the others. + </p> + <p> + “We are under one Law, indeed,” said Bagheera, wading into the water and + looking across at the lines of clicking horns and starting eyes where the + deer and the pig pushed each other to and fro. “Good hunting, all you of + my blood,” he added, lying own at full length, one flank thrust out of the + shallows; and then, between his teeth, “But for that which is the Law it + would be VERY good hunting.” + </p> + <p> + The quick-spread ears of the deer caught the last sentence, and a + frightened whisper ran along the ranks. “The Truce! Remember the Truce!” + </p> + <p> + “Peace there, peace!” gurgled Hathi, the wild elephant. “The Truce holds, + Bagheera. This is no time to talk of hunting.” + </p> + <p> + “Who should know better than I?” Bagheera answered, rolling his yellow + eyes up-stream. “I am an eater of turtles—a fisher of frogs. + Ngaayah! Would I could get good from chewing branches!” + </p> + <p> + “WE wish so, very greatly,” bleated a young fawn, who had only been born + that spring, and did not at all like it. Wretched as the Jungle People + were, even Hathi could not help chuckling; while Mowgli, lying on his + elbows in the warm water, laughed aloud, and beat up the scum with his + feet. + </p> + <p> + “Well spoken, little bud-horn,” Bagheera purred. “When the Truce ends that + shall be remembered in thy favour,” and he looked keenly through the + darkness to make sure of recognising the fawn again. + </p> + <p> + Gradually the talking spread up and down the drinking-places. One could + hear the scuffling, snorting pig asking for more room; the buffaloes + grunting among themselves as they lurched out across the sand-bars, and + the deer telling pitiful stories of their long foot-sore wanderings in + quest of food. Now and again they asked some question of the Eaters of + Flesh across the river, but all the news was bad, and the roaring hot wind + of the Jungle came and went between the rocks and the rattling branches, + and scattered twigs, and dust on the water. + </p> + <p> + “The men-folk, too, they die beside their ploughs,” said a young sambhur. + “I passed three between sunset and night. They lay still, and their + Bullocks with them. We also shall lie still in a little.” + </p> + <p> + “The river has fallen since last night,” said Baloo. “O Hathi, hast thou + ever seen the like of this drought?” + </p> + <p> + “It will pass, it will pass,” said Hathi, squirting water along his back + and sides. + </p> + <p> + “We have one here that cannot endure long,” said Baloo; and he looked + toward the boy he loved. + </p> + <p> + “I?” said Mowgli indignantly, sitting up in the water. “I have no long fur + to cover my bones, but—but if THY hide were taken off, Baloo——” + </p> + <p> + Hathi shook all over at the idea, and Baloo said severely: + </p> + <p> + “Man-cub, that is not seemly to tell a Teacher of the Law. Never have I + been seen without my hide.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I meant no harm, Baloo; but only that thou art, as it were, like the + cocoanut in the husk, and I am the same cocoanut all naked. Now that brown + husk of thine——” Mowgli was sitting cross-legged, and + explaining things with his forefinger in his usual way, when Bagheera put + out a paddy paw and pulled him over backward into the water. + </p> + <p> + “Worse and worse,” said the Black Panther, as the boy rose spluttering. + “First Baloo is to be skinned, and now he is a cocoanut. Be careful that + he does not do what the ripe cocoanuts do.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that?” said Mowgli, off his guard for the minute, though that + is one of the oldest catches in the Jungle. + </p> + <p> + “Break thy head,” said Bagheera quietly, pulling him under again. + </p> + <p> + “It is not good to make a jest of thy teacher,” said the bear, when Mowgli + had been ducked for the third time. + </p> + <p> + “Not good! What would ye have? That naked thing running to and fro makes a + monkey-jest of those who have once been good hunters, and pulls the best + of us by the whiskers for sport.” This was Shere Khan, the Lame Tiger, + limping down to the water. He waited a little to enjoy the sensation he + made among the deer on the opposite to lap, growling: “The jungle has + become a whelping-ground for naked cubs now. Look at me, Man-cub!” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli looked—stared, rather—as insolently as he knew how, and + in a minute Shere Khan turned away uneasily. “Man-cub this, and Man-cub + that,” he rumbled, going on with his drink, “the cub is neither man nor + cub, or he would have been afraid. Next season I shall have to beg his + leave for a drink. Augrh!” + </p> + <p> + “That may come, too,” said Bagheera, looking him steadily between the + eyes. “That may come, too—Faugh, Shere Khan!—what new shame + hast thou brought here?” + </p> + <p> + The Lame Tiger had dipped his chin and jowl in the water, and dark, oily + streaks were floating from it down-stream. + </p> + <p> + “Man!” said Shere Khan coolly, “I killed an hour since.” He went on + purring and growling to himself. + </p> + <p> + The line of beasts shook and wavered to and fro, and a whisper went up + that grew to a cry. “Man! Man! He has killed Man!” Then all looked towards + Hathi, the wild elephant, but he seemed not to hear. Hathi never does + anything till the time comes, and that is one of the reasons why he lives + so long. + </p> + <p> + “At such a season as this to kill Man! Was no other game afoot?” said + Bagheera scornfully, drawing himself out of the tainted water, and shaking + each paw, cat-fashion, as he did so. + </p> + <p> + “I killed for choice—not for food.” The horrified whisper began + again, and Hathi’s watchful little white eye cocked itself in Shere Khan’s + direction. “For choice,” Shere Khan drawled. “Now come I to drink and make + me clean again. Is there any to forbid?” + </p> + <p> + Bagheera’s back began to curve like a bamboo in a high wind, but Hathi + lifted up his trunk and spoke quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Thy kill was from choice?” he asked; and when Hathi asks a question it is + best to answer. + </p> + <p> + “Even so. It was my right and my Night. Thou knowest, O Hathi.” Shere Khan + spoke almost courteously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” Hathi answered; and, after a little silence, “Hast thou + drunk thy fill?” + </p> + <p> + “For to-night, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Go, then. The river is to drink, and not to defile. None but the Lame + Tiger would so have boasted of his right at this season when—when we + suffer together—Man and Jungle People alike. Clean or unclean, get + to thy lair, Shere Khan!” + </p> + <p> + The last words rang out like silver trumpets, and Hathi’s three sons + rolled forward half a pace, though there was no need. Shere Khan slunk + away, not daring to growl, for he knew—what every one else knows—that + when the last comes to the last, Hathi is the Master of the Jungle. + </p> + <p> + “What is this right Shere Khan speaks of?” Mowgli whispered in Bagheera’s + ear. “To kill Man is always, shameful. The Law says so. And yet Hathi says——” + </p> + <p> + “Ask him. I do not know, Little Brother. Right or no right, if Hathi had + not spoken I would have taught that lame butcher his lesson. To come to + the Peace Rock fresh from a kill of Man—and to boast of it—is + a jackal’s trick. Besides, he tainted the good water.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli waited for a minute to pick up his courage, because no one cared to + address Hathi directly, and then he cried: “What is Shere Khan’s right, O + Hathi?” Both banks echoed his words, for all the People of the Jungle are + intensely curious, and they had just seen something that none except + Baloo, who looked very thoughtful, seemed to understand. + </p> + <p> + “It is an old tale,” said Hathi; “a tale older than the Jungle. Keep + silence along the banks and I will tell that tale.” + </p> + <p> + There was a minute or two of pushing a shouldering among the pigs and the + buffalo, and then the leaders of the herds grunted, one after another, “We + wait,” and Hathi strode forward, till he was nearly knee-deep in the pool + by the Peace Rock. Lean and wrinkled and yellow-tusked though he was, he + looked what the Jungle knew him to be—their master. + </p> + <p> + “Ye know, children,” he began, “that of all things ye most fear Man;” and + there was a mutter of agreement. + </p> + <p> + “This tale touches thee, Little Brother,” said Bagheera to Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “I? I am of the Pack—a hunter of the Free People,” Mowgli answered. + “What have I to do with Man?” + </p> + <p> + “And ye do not know why ye fear Man?” Hathi went on. “This is the reason. + In the beginning of the Jungle, and none know when that was, we of the + Jungle walked together, having no fear of one another. In those days there + was no drought, and leaves and flowers and fruit grew on the same tree, + and we ate nothing at all except leaves and flowers and grass and fruit + and bark.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad I was not born in those days,” said Bagheera. “Bark is only + good to sharpen claws.” + </p> + <p> + “And the Lord of the Jungle was Tha, the First of the Elephants. He drew + the Jungle out of deep waters with his trunk; and where he made furrows in + the ground with his tusks, there the rivers ran; and where he struck with + his foot, there rose ponds of good water; and when he blew through his + trunk,—thus,—the trees fell. That was the manner in which the + Jungle was made by Tha; and so the tale was told to me.” + </p> + <p> + “It has not lost fat in the telling,” Bagheera whispered, and Mowgli + laughed behind his hand. + </p> + <p> + “In those days there was no corn or melons or pepper or sugar-cane, nor + were there any little huts such as ye have all seen; and the Jungle People + knew nothing of Man, but lived in the Jungle together, making one people. + But presently they began to dispute over their food, though there was + grazing enough for all. They were lazy. Each wished to eat where he lay, + as sometimes we can do now when the spring rains are good. Tha, the First + of the Elephants, was busy making new jungles and leading the rivers in + their beds. He could not walk in all places; therefore he made the First + of the Tigers the master and the judge of the Jungle, to whom the Jungle + People should bring their disputes. In those days the First of the Tigers + ate fruit and grass with the others. He was as large as I am, and he was + very beautiful, in colour all over like the blossom of the yellow creeper. + There was never stripe nor bar upon his hide in those good days when this + the Jungle was new. All the Jungle People came before him without fear, + and his word was the Law of all the Jungle. We were then, remember ye, one + people. + </p> + <p> + “Yet upon a night there was a dispute between two bucks—a + grazing-quarrel such as ye now settle with the horns and the fore-feet—and + it is said that as the two spoke together before the First of the First of + the Tigers lying among the flowers, a buck pushed him with his horns, and + the First of the Tigers forgot that he was the master and judge of the + Jungle, and, leaping upon that buck, broke his neck. + </p> + <p> + “Till that night never one of us had died, and the First of the Tigers, + seeing what he had done, and being made foolish by the scent of the blood, + ran away into the marshes of the North, and we of the Jungle, left without + a judge, fell to fighting among ourselves; and Tha heard the noise of it + and came back. Then some of us said this and some of us said that, but he + saw the dead buck among the flowers, and asked who had killed, and we of + the Jungle would not tell because the smell of the blood made us foolish. + We ran to and fro in circles, capering and crying out and shaking our + heads. Then Tha gave an order to the trees that hang low, and to the + trailing creepers of the Jungle, that they should mark the killer of the + buck so that he should know him again, and he said, ‘Who will now be + master of the Jungle People?’ Then up leaped the Gray Ape who lives in the + branches, and said, ‘I will now be master of the Jungle.’” + </p> + <p> + At this Tha laughed, and said, “So be it,” and went away very angry. + </p> + <p> + “Children, ye know the Gray Ape. He was then as he is now. At the first he + made a wise face for himself, but in a little while he began to scratch + and to leap up and down, and when Tha came back he found the Gray Ape + hanging, head down, from a bough, mocking those who stood below; and they + mocked him again. And so there was no Law in the Jungle—only foolish + talk and senseless words. + </p> + <p> + “Then Tha called us all together and said: ‘The first of your masters has + brought Death into the Jungle, and the second Shame. Now it is time there + was a Law, and a Law that ye must not break. Now ye shall know Fear, and + when ye have found him ye shall know that he is your master, and the rest + shall follow.’ Then we of the jungle said, ‘What is Fear?’ And Tha said, + ‘Seek till ye find.’ So we went up and down the Jungle seeking for Fear, + and presently the buffaloes——” + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” said Mysa, the leader of the buffaloes, from their sand-bank. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mysa, it was the buffaloes. They came back with the news that in a + cave in the Jungle sat Fear, and that he had no hair, and went upon his + hind legs. Then we of the Jungle followed the herd till we came to that + cave, and Fear stood at the mouth of it, and he was, as the buffaloes had + said, hairless, and he walked upon his hinder legs. When he saw us he + cried out, and his voice filled us with the fear that we have now of that + voice when we hear it, and we ran away, tramping upon and tearing each + other because we were afraid. That night, so it was told to me, we of the + Jungle did not lie down together as used to be our custom, but each tribe + drew off by itself—the pig with the pig, the deer with the deer; + horn to horn, hoof to hoof,—like keeping to like, and so lay shaking + in the Jungle. + </p> + <p> + “Only the First of the Tigers was not with us, for he was still hidden in + the marshes of the North, and when word was brought to him of the Thing we + had seen in the cave, he said. ‘I will go to this Thing and break his + neck.’ So he ran all the night till he came to the cave; but the trees and + the creepers on his path, remembering the order that Tha had given, let + down their branches and marked him as he ran, drawing their fingers across + his back, his flank, his forehead, and his jowl. Wherever they touched him + there was a mark and a stripe upon his yellow hide. AND THOSE STRIPES DO + THIS CHILDREN WEAR TO THIS DAY! When he came to the cave, Fear, the + Hairless One, put out his hand and called him ‘The Striped One that comes + by night,’ and the First of the Tigers was afraid of the Hairless One, and + ran back to the swamps howling.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli chuckled quietly here, his chin in the water. + </p> + <p> + “So loud did he howl that Tha heard him and said, ‘What is the sorrow?’ + And the First of the Tigers, lifting up his muzzle to the new-made sky, + which is now so old, said: ‘Give me back my power, O Tha. I am made + ashamed before all the Jungle, and I have run away from a Hairless One, + and he has called me a shameful name.’ ‘And why?’ said Tha. ‘Because I am + smeared with the mud of the marshes,’ said the First of the Tigers. ‘Swim, + then, and roll on the wet grass, and if it be mud it will wash away,’ said + Tha; and the First of the Tigers swam, and rolled and rolled upon the + grass, till the Jungle ran round and round before his eyes, but not one + little bar upon all his hide was changed, and Tha, watching him, laughed. + Then the First of the Tigers said: ‘What have I done that this comes to + me?’ Tha said, ‘Thou hast killed the buck, and thou hast let Death loose + in the Jungle, and with Death has come Fear, so that the people of the + Jungle are afraid one of the other, as thou art afraid of the Hairless + One.’ The First of the Tigers said, ‘They will never fear me, for I knew + them since the beginning.’ Tha said, ‘Go and see.’ And the First of the + Tigers ran to and fro, calling aloud to the deer and the pig and the + sambhur and the porcupine and all the Jungle Peoples, and they all ran + away from him who had been their judge, because they were afraid. + </p> + <p> + “Then the First of the Tigers came back, and his pride was broken in him, + and, beating his head upon the ground, he tore up the earth with all his + feet and said: ‘Remember that I was once the Master of the Jungle. Do not + forget me, O Tha! Let my children remember that I was once without shame + or fear!’ And Tha said: ‘This much I will do, because thou and I together + saw the Jungle made. For one night in each year it shall be as it was + before the buck was killed—for thee and for thy children. In that + one night, if ye meet the Hairless One—and his name is Man—ye + shall not be afraid of him, but he shall be afraid of you, as though ye + were judges of the Jungle and masters of all things. Show him mercy in + that night of his fear, for thou hast known what Fear is.’ + </p> + <p> + “Then the First of the Tigers answered, ‘I am content’; but when next he + drank he saw the black stripes upon his flank and his side, and he + remembered the name that the Hairless One had given him, and he was angry. + For a year he lived in the marshes waiting till Tha should keep his + promise. And upon a night when the jackal of the Moon [the Evening Star] + stood clear of the Jungle, he felt that his Night was upon him, and he + went to that cave to meet the Hairless One. Then it happened as Tha + promised, for the Hairless One fell down before him and lay along the + ground, and the First of the Tigers struck him and broke his back, for he + thought that there was but one such Thing in the Jungle, and that he had + killed Fear. Then, nosing above the kill, he heard Tha coming down from + the woods of the North, and presently the voice of the First of the + Elephants, which is the voice that we hear now——” + </p> + <p> + The thunder was rolling up and down the dry, scarred hills, but it brought + no rain—only heat—lightning that flickered along the ridges—and + Hathi went on: “THAT was the voice he heard, and it said: ‘Is this thy + mercy?’ The First of the Tigers licked his lips and said: ‘What matter? I + have killed Fear.’ And Tha said: ‘O blind and foolish! Thou hast untied + the feet of Death, and he will follow thy trail till thou diest. Thou hast + taught Man to kill!’ + </p> + <p> + “The First of the Tigers, standing stiffly to his kill, said. ‘He is as + the buck was. There is no Fear. Now I will judge the Jungle Peoples once + more.’ + </p> + <p> + “And Tha said: ‘Never again shall the Jungle Peoples come to thee. They + shall never cross thy trail, nor sleep near thee, nor follow after thee, + nor browse by thy lair. Only Fear shall follow thee, and with a blow that + thou canst not see he shall bid thee wait his pleasure. He shall make the + ground to open under thy feet, and the creeper to twist about thy neck, + and the tree-trunks to grow together about thee higher than thou canst + leap, and at the last he shall take thy hide to wrap his cubs when they + are cold. Thou hast shown him no mercy, and none will he show thee.’ + </p> + <p> + “The First of the Tigers was very bold, for his Night was still on him, + and he said: ‘The Promise of Tha is the Promise of Tha. He will not take + away my Night?’ And Tha said: ‘The one Night is thine, as I have said, but + there is a price to pay. Thou hast taught Man to kill, and he is no slow + learner.’ + </p> + <p> + “The First of the Tigers said: ‘He is here under my foot, and his back is + broken. Let the Jungle know I have killed Fear.’ + </p> + <p> + “Then Tha laughed, and said: ‘Thou hast killed one of many, but thou + thyself shalt tell the Jungle—for thy Night is ended.’ + </p> + <p> + “So the day came; and from the mouth of the cave went out another Hairless + One, and he saw the kill in the path, and the First of the Tigers above + it, and he took a pointed stick——” + </p> + <p> + “They throw a thing that cuts now,” said Ikki, rustling down the bank; for + Ikki was considered uncommonly good eating by the Gonds—they called + him Ho-Igoo—and he knew something of the wicked little Gondee axe + that whirls across a clearing like a dragon-fly. + </p> + <p> + “It was a pointed stick, such as they put in the foot of a pit-trap,” said + Hathi, “and throwing it, he struck the First of the Tigers deep in the + flank. Thus it happened as Tha said, for the First of the Tigers ran + howling up and down the Jungle till he tore out the stick, and all the + Jungle knew that the Hairless One could strike from far off, and they + feared more than before. So it came about that the First of the Tigers + taught the Hairless One to kill—and ye know what harm that has since + done to all our peoples—through the noose, and the pitfall, and the + hidden trap, and the flying stick and the stinging fly that comes out of + white smoke [Hathi meant the rifle], and the Red Flower that drives us + into the open. Yet for one night in the year the Hairless One fears the + Tiger, as Tha promised, and never has the Tiger given him cause to be less + afraid. Where he finds him, there he kills him, remembering how the First + of the Tigers was made ashamed. For the rest, Fear walks up and down the + Jungle by day and by night.” + </p> + <p> + “Ahi! Aoo!” said the deer, thinking of what it all meant to them. + </p> + <p> + “And only when there is one great Fear over all, as there is now, can we + of the Jungle lay aside our little fears, and meet together in one place + as we do now.” + </p> + <p> + “For one night only does Man fear the Tiger?” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “For one night only,” said Hathi. + </p> + <p> + “But I—but we—but all the Jungle knows that Shere Khan kills + Man twice and thrice in a moon.” + </p> + <p> + “Even so. THEN he springs from behind and turns his head aside as he + strikes, for he is full of fear. If Man looked at him he would run. But on + his one Night he goes openly down to the village. He walks between the + houses and thrusts his head into the doorway, and the men fall on their + faces, and there he does his kill. One kill in that Night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Mowgli to himself, rolling over in the water. “NOW I see why it + was Shere Khan bade me look at him! He got no good of it, for he could not + hold his eyes steady, and—and I certainly did not fall down at his + feet. But then I am not a man, being of the Free People.” + </p> + <p> + “Umm!” said Bagheera deep in his furry throat. “Does the Tiger know his + Night?” + </p> + <p> + “Never till the Jackal of the Moon stands clear of the evening mist. + Sometimes it falls in the dry summer and sometimes in the wet rains—this + one Night of the Tiger. But for the First of the Tigers, this would never + have been, nor would any of us have known fear.” + </p> + <p> + The deer grunted sorrowfully and Bagheera’s lips curled in a wicked smile. + “Do men know this—tale?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “None know it except the tigers, and we, the elephants—the children + of Tha. Now ye by the pools have heard it, and I have spoken.” + </p> + <p> + Hathi dipped his trunk into the water as a sign that he did not wish to + talk. + </p> + <p> + “But—but—but,” said Mowgli, turning to Baloo, “why did not the + First of the Tigers continue to eat grass and leaves and trees? He did but + break the buck’s neck. He did not EAT. What led him to the hot meat?” + </p> + <p> + “The trees and the creepers marked him, Little Brother, and made him the + striped thing that we see. Never again would he eat their fruit; but from + that day he revenged himself upon the deer, and the others, the Eaters of + Grass,” said Baloo. + </p> + <p> + “Then THOU knowest the tale. Heh? Why have I never heard?” + </p> + <p> + “Because the Jungle is full of such tales. If I made a beginning there + would never be an end to them. Let go my ear, Little Brother.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LAW OF THE JUNGLE + </h2> + <p> + Just to give you an idea of the immense variety of the Jungle Law, I have + translated into verse (Baloo always recited them in a sort of sing-song) a + few of the laws that apply to the wolves. There are, of course, hundreds + and hundreds more, but these will do for specimens of the simpler rulings. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Now this is the Law of the Jungle—as old and as true as + the sky; + And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf + that shall break it must die. + + As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth + forward and back— + For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength + of the Wolf is the Pack. + + Wash daily from nose-tip to tail-tip; drink deeply, but + never too deep; + And remember the night is for hunting, and forget not + the day is for sleep. + + The jackal may follow the Tiger, but, Cub, when thy + whiskers are grown, + Remember the Wolf is a hunter—go forth and get food + of thine own. + + Keep peace with the Lords of the Jungle—the Tiger, the + Panther, the Bear; + And trouble not Hathi the Silent, and mock not the Boar + in his lair. + + When Pack meets with Pack in the Jungle, and neither + will go from the trail, + Lie down till the leaders have spoken—it may be fair + words shall prevail. + + When ye fight with a Wolf of the Pack, ye must + fight him alone and afar, + Lest others take part in the quarrel, and the Pack be + diminished by war. + + The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, and where he has + made him his home, + Not even the Head Wolf may enter, not even the Council + may come. + + The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, but where he has + digged it too plain, + The Council shall send him a message, and so he shall + change it again. + + If ye kill before midnight, be silent, and wake not the + woods with your bay, + Lest ye frighten the deer from the crops, and the brothers + go empty away. + + Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates, and your cubs + as they need, and ye can; + But kill not for pleasure of killing, and SEVEN TIMES NEVER + KILL MAN. + + If ye plunder his Kill from a weaker, devour not all in + thy pride; + Pack-Right is the right of the meanest; so leave him the + head and the hide. + + The Kill of the Pack is the meat of the Pack. Ye must + eat where it lies; + And no one may carry away of that meat to his lair, or + he dies. + + The Kill of the Wolf is the meat of the Wolf. He may + do what he will, + But, till he has given permission, the Pack may not eat + of that Kill. + + Cub-Right is the right of the Yearling. From all of his + Pack he may claim + Full-gorge when the killer has eaten; and none may + refuse him the same. + + Lair-Right is the right of the Mother. From all of her + year she may claim + One haunch of each kill for her litter, and none may + deny her the same. + + Cave-Right is the right of the Father—to hunt by himself + for his own. + He is freed of all calls to the Pack; he is judged by the + Council alone. + + Because of his age and his cunning, because of his gripe + and his paw, + In all that the Law leaveth open, the word of the Head + Wolf is Law. + + Now these are the Laws of the Jungle, and many and + mighty are they; + But the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch + and the hump is—Obey! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MIRACLE OF PURUN BHAGAT + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The night we felt the earth would move + We stole and plucked him by the hand, + Because we loved him with the love + That knows but cannot understand. + + And when the roaring hillside broke, + And all our world fell down in rain, + We saved him, we the Little Folk; + But lo! he does not come again! + + Mourn now, we saved him for the sake + Of such poor love as wild ones may. + Mourn ye! Our brother will not wake, + And his own kind drive us away! + + Dirge of the Langurs. +</pre> + <p> + There was once a man in India who was Prime Minister of one of the + semi-independent native States in the north-western part of the country. + He was a Brahmin, so high-caste that caste ceased to have any particular + meaning for him; and his father had been an important official in the + gay-coloured tag-rag and bobtail of an old-fashioned Hindu Court. But as + Purun Dass grew up he felt that the old order of things was changing, and + that if any one wished to get on in the world he must stand well with the + English, and imitate all that the English believed to be good. At the same + time a native official must keep his own master’s favour. This was a + difficult game, but the quiet, close-mouthed young Brahmin, helped by a + good English education at a Bombay University, played it coolly, and rose, + step by step, to be Prime Minister of the kingdom. That is to say, he held + more real power than his master the Maharajah. + </p> + <p> + When the old king—who was suspicious of the English, their railways + and telegraphs—died, Purun Dass stood high with his young successor, + who had been tutored by an Englishman; and between them, though he always + took care that his master should have the credit, they established schools + for little girls, made roads, and started State dispensaries and shows of + agricultural implements, and published a yearly blue-book on the “Moral + and Material Progress of the State,” and the Foreign Office and the + Government of India were delighted. Very few native States take up English + progress altogether, for they will not believe, as Purun Dass showed he + did, that what was good for the Englishman must be twice as good for the + Asiatic. The Prime Minister became the honoured friend of Viceroys, and + Governors, and Lieutenant-Governors, and medical missionaries, and common + missionaries, and hard-riding English officers who came to shoot in the + State preserves, as well as of whole hosts of tourists who travelled up + and down India in the cold weather, showing how things ought to be + managed. In his spare time he would endow scholarships for the study of + medicine and manufactures on strictly English lines, and write letters to + the “Pioneer”, the greatest Indian daily paper, explaining his master’s + aims and objects. + </p> + <p> + At last he went to England on a visit, and had to pay enormous sums to the + priests when he came back; for even so high-caste a Brahmin as Purun Dass + lost caste by crossing the black sea. In London he met and talked with + every one worth knowing—men whose names go all over the world—and + saw a great deal more than he said. He was given honorary degrees by + learned universities, and he made speeches and talked of Hindu social + reform to English ladies in evening dress, till all London cried, “This is + the most fascinating man we have ever met at dinner since cloths were + first laid.” + </p> + <p> + When he returned to India there was a blaze of glory, for the Viceroy + himself made a special visit to confer upon the Maharajah the Grand Cross + of the Star of India—all diamonds and ribbons and enamel; and at the + same ceremony, while the cannon boomed, Purun Dass was made a Knight + Commander of the Order of the Indian Empire; so that his name stood Sir + Purun Dass, K.C.I.E. + </p> + <p> + That evening, at dinner in the big Viceregal tent, he stood up with the + badge and the collar of the Order on his breast, and replying to the toast + of his master’s health, made a speech few Englishmen could have bettered. + </p> + <p> + Next month, when the city had returned to its sun-baked quiet, he did a + thing no Englishman would have dreamed of doing; for, so far as the + world’s affairs went, he died. The jewelled order of his knighthood went + back to the Indian Government, and a new Prime Minister was appointed to + the charge of affairs, and a great game of General Post began in all the + subordinate appointments. The priests knew what had happened, and the + people guessed; but India is the one place in the world where a man can do + as he pleases and nobody asks why; and the fact that Dewan Sir Purun Dass, + K.C.I.E., had resigned position, palace, and power, and taken up the + begging-bowl and ochre-coloured dress of a Sunnyasi, or holy man, was + considered nothing extraordinary. He had been, as the Old Law recommends, + twenty years a youth, twenty years a fighter,—though he had never + carried a weapon in his life,—and twenty years head of a household. + He had used his wealth and his power for what he knew both to be worth; he + had taken honour when it came his way; he had seen men and cities far and + near, and men and cities had stood up and honoured him. Now he would let + those things go, as a man drops the cloak he no longer needs. + </p> + <p> + Behind him, as he walked through the city gates, an antelope skin and + brass-handled crutch under his arm, and a begging-bowl of polished brown + coco-de-mer in his hand, barefoot, alone, with eyes cast on the ground—behind + him they were firing salutes from the bastions in honour of his happy + successor. Purun Dass nodded. All that life was ended; and he bore it no + more ill-will or good-will than a man bears to a colourless dream of the + night. He was a Sunnyasi—a houseless, wandering mendicant, depending + on his neighbours for his daily bread; and so long as there is a morsel to + divide in India, neither priest nor beggar starves. He had never in his + life tasted meat, and very seldom eaten even fish. A five-pound note would + have covered his personal expenses for food through any one of the many + years in which he had been absolute master of millions of money. Even when + he was being lionised in London he had held before him his dream of peace + and quiet—the long, white, dusty Indian road, printed all over with + bare feet, the incessant, slow-moving traffic, and the sharp-smelling wood + smoke curling up under the fig-trees in the twilight, where the wayfarers + sit at their evening meal. + </p> + <p> + When the time came to make that dream true the Prime Minister took the + proper steps, and in three days you might more easily have found a bubble + in the trough of the long Atlantic seas, than Purun Dass among the roving, + gathering, separating millions of India. + </p> + <p> + At night his antelope skin was spread where the darkness overtook him—sometimes + in a Sunnyasi monastery by the roadside; sometimes by a mud-pillar shrine + of Kala Pir, where the Jogis, who are another misty division of holy men, + would receive him as they do those who know what castes and divisions are + worth; sometimes on the outskirts of a little Hindu village, where the + children would steal up with the food their parents had prepared; and + sometimes on the pitch of the bare grazing-grounds, where the flame of his + stick fire waked the drowsy camels. It was all one to Purun Dass—or + Purun Bhagat, as he called himself now. Earth, people, and food were all + one. But unconsciously his feet drew him away northward and eastward; from + the south to Rohtak; from Rohtak to Kurnool; from Kurnool to ruined + Samanah, and then up-stream along the dried bed of the Gugger river that + fills only when the rain falls in the hills, till one day he saw the far + line of the great Himalayas. + </p> + <p> + Then Purun Bhagat smiled, for he remembered that his mother was of Rajput + Brahmin birth, from Kulu way—a Hill-woman, always home-sick for the + snows—and that the least touch of Hill blood draws a man in the end + back to where he belongs. + </p> + <p> + “Yonder,” said Purun Bhagat, breasting the lower slopes of the Sewaliks, + where the cacti stand up like seven-branched candlesticks-“yonder I shall + sit down and get knowledge”; and the cool wind of the Himalayas whistled + about his ears as he trod the road that led to Simla. + </p> + <p> + The last time he had come that way it had been in state, with a clattering + cavalry escort, to visit the gentlest and most affable of Viceroys; and + the two had talked for an hour together about mutual friends in London, + and what the Indian common folk really thought of things. This time Purun + Bhagat paid no calls, but leaned on the rail of the Mall, watching that + glorious view of the Plains spread out forty miles below, till a native + Mohammedan policeman told him he was obstructing traffic; and Purun Bhagat + salaamed reverently to the Law, because he knew the value of it, and was + seeking for a Law of his own. Then he moved on, and slept that night in an + empty hut at Chota Simla, which looks like the very last end of the earth, + but it was only the beginning of his journey. He followed the + Himalaya-Thibet road, the little ten-foot track that is blasted out of + solid rock, or strutted out on timbers over gulfs a thousand feet deep; + that dips into warm, wet, shut-in valleys, and climbs out across bare, + grassy hill-shoulders where the sun strikes like a burning-glass; or turns + through dripping, dark forests where the tree-ferns dress the trunks from + head to heel, and the pheasant calls to his mate. And he met Thibetan + herdsmen with their dogs and flocks of sheep, each sheep with a little bag + of borax on his back, and wandering wood-cutters, and cloaked and + blanketed Lamas from Thibet, coming into India on pilgrimage, and envoys + of little solitary Hill-states, posting furiously on ring-streaked and + piebald ponies, or the cavalcade of a Rajah paying a visit; or else for a + long, clear day he would see nothing more than a black bear grunting and + rooting below in the valley. When he first started, the roar of the world + he had left still rang in his ears, as the roar of a tunnel rings long + after the train has passed through; but when he had put the Mutteeanee + Pass behind him that was all done, and Purun Bhagat was alone with + himself, walking, wondering, and thinking, his eyes on the ground, and his + thoughts with the clouds. + </p> + <p> + One evening he crossed the highest pass he had met till then—it had + been a two-day’s climb—and came out on a line of snow-peaks that + banded all the horizon—mountains from fifteen to twenty thousand + feet high, looking almost near enough to hit with a stone, though they + were fifty or sixty miles away. The pass was crowned with dense, dark + forest—deodar, walnut, wild cherry, wild olive, and wild pear, but + mostly deodar, which is the Himalayan cedar; and under the shadow of the + deodars stood a deserted shrine to Kali—who is Durga, who is Sitala, + who is sometimes worshipped against the smallpox. + </p> + <p> + Purun Dass swept the stone floor clean, smiled at the grinning statue, + made himself a little mud fireplace at the back of the shrine, spread his + antelope skin on a bed of fresh pine-needles, tucked his bairagi—his + brass-handled crutch—under his armpit, and sat down to rest. + </p> + <p> + Immediately below him the hillside fell away, clean and cleared for + fifteen hundred feet, where a little village of stone-walled houses, with + roofs of beaten earth, clung to the steep tilt. All round it the tiny + terraced fields lay out like aprons of patchwork on the knees of the + mountain, and cows no bigger than beetles grazed between the smooth stone + circles of the threshing-floors. Looking across the valley, the eye was + deceived by the size of things, and could not at first realise that what + seemed to be low scrub, on the opposite mountain-flank, was in truth a + forest of hundred-foot pines. Purun Bhagat saw an eagle swoop across the + gigantic hollow, but the great bird dwindled to a dot ere it was half-way + over. A few bands of scattered clouds strung up and down the valley, + catching on a shoulder of the hills, or rising up and dying out when they + were level with the head of the pass. And “Here shall I find peace,” said + Purun Bhagat. + </p> + <p> + Now, a Hill-man makes nothing of a few hundred feet up or down, and as + soon as the villagers saw the smoke in the deserted shrine, the village + priest climbed up the terraced hillside to welcome the stranger. + </p> + <p> + When he met Purun Bhagat’s eyes—the eyes of a man used to control + thousands—he bowed to the earth, took the begging-bowl without a + word, and returned to the village, saying, “We have at last a holy man. + Never have I seen such a man. He is of the Plains—but pale-coloured—a + Brahmin of the Brahmins.” Then all the housewives of the village said, + “Think you he will stay with us?” and each did her best to cook the most + savoury meal for the Bhagat. Hill-food is very simple, but with buckwheat + and Indian corn, and rice and red pepper, and little fish out of the + stream in the valley, and honey from the flue-like hives built in the + stone walls, and dried apricots, and turmeric, and wild ginger, and + bannocks of flour, a devout woman can make good things, and it was a full + bowl that the priest carried to the Bhagat. Was he going to stay? asked + the priest. Would he need a chela—a disciple—to beg for him? + Had he a blanket against the cold weather? Was the food good? + </p> + <p> + Purun Bhagat ate, and thanked the giver. It was in his mind to stay. That + was sufficient, said the priest. Let the begging-bowl be placed outside + the shrine, in the hollow made by those two twisted roots, and daily + should the Bhagat be fed; for the village felt honoured that such a man—he + looked timidly into the Bhagat’s face—should tarry among them. + </p> + <p> + That day saw the end of Purun Bhagat’s wanderings. He had come to the + place appointed for him—the silence and the space. After this, time + stopped, and he, sitting at the mouth of the shrine, could not tell + whether he were alive or dead; a man with control of his limbs, or a part + of the hills, and the clouds, and the shifting rain and sunlight. He would + repeat a Name softly to himself a hundred hundred times, till, at each + repetition, he seemed to move more and more out of his body, sweeping up + to the doors of some tremendous discovery; but, just as the door was + opening, his body would drag him back, and, with grief, he felt he was + locked up again in the flesh and bones of Purun Bhagat. + </p> + <p> + Every morning the filled begging-bowl was laid silently in the crutch of + the roots outside the shrine. Sometimes the priest brought it; sometimes a + Ladakhi trader, lodging in the village, and anxious to get merit, trudged + up the path; but, more often, it was the woman who had cooked the meal + overnight; and she would murmur, hardly above her breath. “Speak for me + before the gods, Bhagat. Speak for such a one, the wife of so-and-so!” Now + and then some bold child would be allowed the honour, and Purun Bhagat + would hear him drop the bowl and run as fast as his little legs could + carry him, but the Bhagat never came down to the village. It was laid out + like a map at his feet. He could see the evening gatherings, held on the + circle of the threshing-floors, because that was the only level ground; + could see the wonderful unnamed green of the young rice, the indigo blues + of the Indian corn, the dock-like patches of buckwheat, and, in its + season, the red bloom of the amaranth, whose tiny seeds, being neither + grain nor pulse, make a food that can be lawfully eaten by Hindus in time + of fasts. + </p> + <p> + When the year turned, the roofs of the huts were all little squares of + purest gold, for it was on the roofs that they laid out their cobs of the + corn to dry. Hiving and harvest, rice-sowing and husking, passed before + his eyes, all embroidered down there on the many-sided plots of fields, + and he thought of them all, and wondered what they all led to at the long + last. + </p> + <p> + Even in populated India a man cannot a day sit still before the wild + things run over him as though he were a rock; and in that wilderness very + soon the wild things, who knew Kali’s Shrine well, came back to look at + the intruder. The langurs, the big gray-whiskered monkeys of the + Himalayas, were, naturally, the first, for they are alive with curiosity; + and when they had upset the begging-bowl, and rolled it round the floor, + and tried their teeth on the brass-handled crutch, and made faces at the + antelope skin, they decided that the human being who sat so still was + harmless. At evening, they would leap down from the pines, and beg with + their hands for things to eat, and then swing off in graceful curves. They + liked the warmth of the fire, too, and huddled round it till Purun Bhagat + had to push them aside to throw on more fuel; and in the morning, as often + as not, he would find a furry ape sharing his blanket. All day long, one + or other of the tribe would sit by his side, staring out at the snows, + crooning and looking unspeakably wise and sorrowful. + </p> + <p> + After the monkeys came the barasingh, that big deer which is like our red + deer, but stronger. He wished to rub off the velvet of his horns against + the cold stones of Kali’s statue, and stamped his feet when he saw the man + at the shrine. But Purun Bhagat never moved, and, little by little, the + royal stag edged up and nuzzled his shoulder. Purun Bhagat slid one cool + hand along the hot antlers, and the touch soothed the fretted beast, who + bowed his head, and Purun Bhagat very softly rubbed and ravelled off the + velvet. Afterward, the barasingh brought his doe and fawn—gentle + things that mumbled on the holy man’s blanket—or would come alone at + night, his eyes green in the fire-flicker, to take his share of fresh + walnuts. At last, the musk-deer, the shyest and almost the smallest of the + deerlets, came, too, her big rabbity ears erect; even brindled, silent + mushick-nabha must needs find out what the light in the shrine meant, and + drop out her moose-like nose into Purun Bhagat’s lap, coming and going + with the shadows of the fire. Purun Bhagat called them all “my brothers,” + and his low call of “Bhai! Bhai!” would draw them from the forest at noon + if they were within ear shot. The Himalayan black bear, moody and + suspicious—Sona, who has the V-shaped white mark under his chin—passed + that way more than once; and since the Bhagat showed no fear, Sona showed + no anger, but watched him, and came closer, and begged a share of the + caresses, and a dole of bread or wild berries. Often, in the still dawns, + when the Bhagat would climb to the very crest of the pass to watch the red + day walking along the peaks of the snows, he would find Sona shuffling and + grunting at his heels, thrusting, a curious fore-paw under fallen trunks, + and bringing it away with a WHOOF of impatience; or his early steps would + wake Sona where he lay curled up, and the great brute, rising erect, would + think to fight, till he heard the Bhagat’s voice and knew his best friend. + </p> + <p> + Nearly all hermits and holy men who live apart from the big cities have + the reputation of being able to work miracles with the wild things, but + all the miracle lies in keeping still, in never making a hasty movement, + and, for a long time, at least, in never looking directly at a visitor. + The villagers saw the outline of the barasingh stalking like a shadow + through the dark forest behind the shrine; saw the minaul, the Himalayan + pheasant, blazing in her best colours before Kali’s statue; and the + langurs on their haunches, inside, playing with the walnut shells. Some of + the children, too, had heard Sona singing to himself, bear-fashion, behind + the fallen rocks, and the Bhagat’s reputation as miracle-worker stood + firm. + </p> + <p> + Yet nothing was farther from his mind than miracles. He believed that all + things were one big Miracle, and when a man knows that much he knows + something to go upon. He knew for a certainty that there was nothing great + and nothing little in this world: and day and night he strove to think out + his way into the heart of things, back to the place whence his soul had + come. + </p> + <p> + So thinking, his untrimmed hair fell down about his shoulders, the stone + slab at the side of the antelope skin was dented into a little hole by the + foot of his brass-handled crutch, and the place between the tree-trunks, + where the begging-bowl rested day after day, sunk and wore into a hollow + almost as smooth as the brown shell itself; and each beast knew his exact + place at the fire. The fields changed their colours with the seasons; the + threshing-floors filled and emptied, and filled again and again; and again + and again, when winter came, the langurs frisked among the branches + feathered with light snow, till the mother-monkeys brought their sad-eyed + little babies up from the warmer valleys with the spring. There were few + changes in the village. The priest was older, and many of the little + children who used to come with the begging-dish sent their own children + now; and when you asked of the villagers how long their holy man had lived + in Kali’s Shrine at the head of the pass, they answered, “Always.” + </p> + <p> + Then came such summer rains as had not been known in the Hills for many + seasons. Through three good months the valley was wrapped in cloud and + soaking mist—steady, unrelenting downfall, breaking off into + thunder-shower after thunder-shower. Kali’s Shrine stood above the clouds, + for the most part, and there was a whole month in which the Bhagat never + caught a glimpse of his village. It was packed away under a white floor of + cloud that swayed and shifted and rolled on itself and bulged upward, but + never broke from its piers—the streaming flanks of the valley. + </p> + <p> + All that time he heard nothing but the sound of a million little waters, + overhead from the trees, and underfoot along the ground, soaking through + the pine-needles, dripping from the tongues of draggled fern, and spouting + in newly-torn muddy channels down the slopes. Then the sun came out, and + drew forth the good incense of the deodars and the rhododendrons, and that + far-off, clean smell which the Hill people call “the smell of the snows.” + The hot sunshine lasted for a week, and then the rains gathered together + for their last downpour, and the water fell in sheets that flayed off the + skin of the ground and leaped back in mud. Purun Bhagat heaped his fire + high that night, for he was sure his brothers would need warmth; but never + a beast came to the shrine, though he called and called till he dropped + asleep, wondering what had happened in the woods. + </p> + <p> + It was in the black heart of the night, the rain drumming like a thousand + drums, that he was roused by a plucking at his blanket, and, stretching + out, felt the little hand of a langur. “It is better here than in the + trees,” he said sleepily, loosening a fold of blanket; “take it and be + warm.” The monkey caught his hand and pulled hard. “Is it food, then?” + said Purun Bhagat. “Wait awhile, and I will prepare some.” As he kneeled + to throw fuel on the fire the langur ran to the door of the shrine, + crooned and ran back again, plucking at the man’s knee. + </p> + <p> + “What is it? What is thy trouble, Brother?” said Purun Bhagat, for the + langur’s eyes were full of things that he could not tell. “Unless one of + thy caste be in a trap—and none set traps here—I will not go + into that weather. Look, Brother, even the barasingh comes for shelter!” + </p> + <p> + The deer’s antlers clashed as he strode into the shrine, clashed against + the grinning statue of Kali. He lowered them in Purun Bhagat’s direction + and stamped uneasily, hissing through his half-shut nostrils. + </p> + <p> + “Hai! Hai! Hai!” said the Bhagat, snapping his fingers, “Is THIS payment + for a night’s lodging?” But the deer pushed him toward the door, and as he + did so Purun Bhagat heard the sound of something opening with a sigh, and + saw two slabs of the floor draw away from each other, while the sticky + earth below smacked its lips. + </p> + <p> + “Now I see,” said Purun Bhagat. “No blame to my brothers that they did not + sit by the fire to-night. The mountain is falling. And yet—why + should I go?” His eye fell on the empty begging-bowl, and his face + changed. “They have given me good food daily since—since I came, + and, if I am not swift, to-morrow there will not be one mouth in the + valley. Indeed, I must go and warn them below. Back there, Brother! Let me + get to the fire.” + </p> + <p> + The barasingh backed unwillingly as Purun Bhagat drove a pine torch deep + into the flame, twirling it till it was well lit. “Ah! ye came to warn + me,” he said, rising. “Better than that we shall do; better than that. + Out, now, and lend me thy neck, Brother, for I have but two feet.” + </p> + <p> + He clutched the bristling withers of the barasingh with his right hand, + held the torch away with his left, and stepped out of the shrine into the + desperate night. There was no breath of wind, but the rain nearly drowned + the flare as the great deer hurried down the slope, sliding on his + haunches. As soon as they were clear of the forest more of the Bhagat’s + brothers joined them. He heard, though he could not see, the langurs + pressing about him, and behind them the uhh! uhh! of Sona. The rain matted + his long white hair into ropes; the water splashed beneath his bare feet, + and his yellow robe clung to his frail old body, but he stepped down + steadily, leaning against the barasingh. He was no longer a holy man, but + Sir Purun Dass, K.C.I.E., Prime Minister of no small State, a man + accustomed to command, going out to save life. Down the steep, plashy path + they poured all together, the Bhagat and his brothers, down and down till + the deer’s feet clicked and stumbled on the wall of a threshing-floor, and + he snorted because he smelt Man. Now they were at the head of the one + crooked village street, and the Bhagat beat with his crutch on the barred + windows of the blacksmith’s house, as his torch blazed up in the shelter + of the eaves. “Up and out!” cried Purun Bhagat; and he did not know his + own voice, for it was years since he had spoken aloud to a man. “The hill + falls! The hill is falling! Up and out, oh, you within!” + </p> + <p> + “It is our Bhagat,” said the blacksmith’s wife. “He stands among his + beasts. Gather the little ones and give the call.” + </p> + <p> + It ran from house to house, while the beasts, cramped in the narrow way, + surged and huddled round the Bhagat, and Sona puffed impatiently. + </p> + <p> + The people hurried into the street—they were no more than seventy + souls all told—and in the glare of the torches they saw their Bhagat + holding back the terrified barasingh, while the monkeys plucked piteously + at his skirts, and Sona sat on his haunches and roared. + </p> + <p> + “Across the valley and up the next hill!” shouted Purun Bhagat. “Leave + none behind! We follow!” + </p> + <p> + Then the people ran as only Hill folk can run, for they knew that in a + landslip you must climb for the highest ground across the valley. They + fled, splashing through the little river at the bottom, and panted up the + terraced fields on the far side, while the Bhagat and his brethren + followed. Up and up the opposite mountain they climbed, calling to each + other by name—the roll-call of the village—and at their heels + toiled the big barasingh, weighted by the failing strength of Purun + Bhagat. At last the deer stopped in the shadow of a deep pinewood, five + hundred feet up the hillside. His instinct, that had warned him of the + coming slide, told him he would he safe here. + </p> + <p> + Purun Bhagat dropped fainting by his side, for the chill of the rain and + that fierce climb were killing him; but first he called to the scattered + torches ahead, “Stay and count your numbers”; then, whispering to the deer + as he saw the lights gather in a cluster: “Stay with me, Brother. Stay—till—I—go!” + </p> + <p> + There was a sigh in the air that grew to a mutter, and a mutter that grew + to a roar, and a roar that passed all sense of hearing, and the hillside + on which the villagers stood was hit in the darkness, and rocked to the + blow. Then a note as steady, deep, and true as the deep C of the organ + drowned everything for perhaps five minutes, while the very roots of the + pines quivered to it. It died away, and the sound of the rain falling on + miles of hard ground and grass changed to the muffled drum of water on + soft earth. That told its own tale. + </p> + <p> + Never a villager—not even the priest—was bold enough to speak + to the Bhagat who had saved their lives. They crouched under the pines and + waited till the day. When it came they looked across the valley and saw + that what had been forest, and terraced field, and track-threaded + grazing-ground was one raw, red, fan-shaped smear, with a few trees flung + head-down on the scarp. That red ran high up the hill of their refuge, + damming back the little river, which had begun to spread into a + brick-coloured lake. Of the village, of the road to the shrine, of the + shrine itself, and the forest behind, there was no trace. For one mile in + width and two thousand feet in sheer depth the mountain-side had come away + bodily, planed clean from head to heel. + </p> + <p> + And the villagers, one by one, crept through the wood to pray before their + Bhagat. They saw the barasingh standing over him, who fled when they came + near, and they heard the langurs wailing in the branches, and Sona moaning + up the hill; but their Bhagat was dead, sitting cross-legged, his back + against a tree, his crutch under his armpit, and his face turned to the + north-east. + </p> + <p> + The priest said: “Behold a miracle after a miracle, for in this very + attitude must all Sunnyasis be buried! Therefore where he now is we will + build the temple to our holy man.” + </p> + <p> + They built the temple before a year was ended—a little + stone-and-earth shrine—and they called the hill the Bhagat’s hill, + and they worship there with lights and flowers and offerings to this day. + But they do not know that the saint of their worship is the late Sir Purun + Dass, K.C.I.E., D.C.L., Ph.D., etc., once Prime Minister of the + progressive and enlightened State of Mohiniwala, and honorary or + corresponding member of more learned and scientific societies than will + ever do any good in this world or the next. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A SONG OF KABIR + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Oh, light was the world that he weighed in his hands! + Oh, heavy the tale of his fiefs and his lands! + He has gone from the guddee and put on the shroud, + And departed in guise of bairagi avowed! + + Now the white road to Delhi is mat for his feet, + The sal and the kikar must guard him from heat; + His home is the camp, and the waste, and the crowd— + He is seeking the Way as bairagi avowed! + + He has looked upon Man, and his eyeballs are clear + (There was One; there is One, and but One, saith Kabir); + The Red Mist of Doing has thinned to a cloud— + He has taken the Path for bairagi avowed! + + To learn and discern of his brother the clod, + Of his brother the brute, and his brother the God. + He has gone from the council and put on the shroud + (“Can ye hear?” saith Kabir), a bairagi avowed! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LETTING IN THE JUNGLE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Veil them, cover them, wall them round— + Blossom, and creeper, and weed— + Let us forget the sight and the sound, + The smell and the touch of the breed! + + Fat black ash by the altar-stone, + Here is the white-foot rain, + And the does bring forth in the fields unsown, + And none shall affright them again; + And the blind walls crumble, unknown, o’erthrown + And none shall inhabit again! +</pre> + <p> + You will remember that after Mowgli had pinned Shere Khan’s hide to the + Council Rock, he told as many as were left of the Seeonee Pack that + henceforward he would hunt in the Jungle alone; and the four children of + Mother and Father Wolf said that they would hunt with him. But it is not + easy to change one’s life all in a minute—particularly in the + Jungle. The first thing Mowgli did, when the disorderly Pack had slunk + off, was to go to the home-cave, and sleep for a day and a night. Then he + told Mother Wolf and Father Wolf as much as they could understand of his + adventures among men; and when he made the morning sun flicker up and down + the blade of his skinning-knife,—the same he had skinned Shere Khan + with,—they said he had learned something. Then Akela and Gray + Brother had to explain their share of the great buffalo-drive in the + ravine, and Baloo toiled up the hill to hear all about it, and Bagheera + scratched himself all over with pure delight at the way in which Mowgli + had managed his war. + </p> + <p> + It was long after sunrise, but no one dreamed of going to sleep, and from + time to time, during the talk, Mother Wolf would throw up her head, and + sniff a deep snuff of satisfaction as the wind brought her the smell of + the tiger-skin on the Council Rock. + </p> + <p> + “But for Akela and Gray Brother here,” Mowgli said, at the end, “I could + have done nothing. Oh, mother, mother! if thou hadst seen the black + herd-bulls pour down the ravine, or hurry through the gates when the + Man-Pack flung stones at me!” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad I did not see that last,” said Mother Wolf stiffly. “It is not + MY custom to suffer my cubs to be driven to and fro like jackals. <i>I</i> + would have taken a price from the Man-Pack; but I would have spared the + woman who gave thee the milk. Yes, I would have spared her alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Peace, peace, Raksha!” said Father Wolf, lazily. “Our Frog has come back + again—so wise that his own father must lick his feet; and what is a + cut, more or less, on the head? Leave Men alone.” Baloo and Bagheera both + echoed: “Leave Men alone.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli, his head on Mother Wolf’s side, smiled contentedly, and said that, + for his own part, he never wished to see, or hear, or smell Man again. + </p> + <p> + “But what,” said Akela, cocking one ear—“but what if men do not + leave thee alone, Little Brother?” + </p> + <p> + “We be FIVE,” said Gray Brother, looking round at the company, and + snapping his jaws on the last word. + </p> + <p> + “We also might attend to that hunting,” said Bagheera, with a little + switch-switch of his tail, looking at Baloo. “But why think of men now, + Akela?” + </p> + <p> + “For this reason,” the Lone Wolf answered: “when that yellow chief’s hide + was hung up on the rock, I went back along our trail to the village, + stepping in my tracks, turning aside, and lying down, to make a mixed + trail in case one should follow us. But when I had fouled the trail so + that I myself hardly knew it again, Mang, the Bat, came hawking between + the trees, and hung up above me.” Said Mang, “The village of the Man-Pack, + where they cast out the Man-cub, hums like a hornet’s nest.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a big stone that I threw,” chuckled Mowgli, who had often amused + himself by throwing ripe paw-paws into a hornet’s nest, and racing off to + the nearest pool before the hornets caught him. + </p> + <p> + “I asked of Mang what he had seen. He said that the Red Flower blossomed + at the gate of the village, and men sat about it carrying guns. Now <i>I</i> + know, for I have good cause,”—Akela looked down at the old dry scars + on his flank and side,—“that men do not carry guns for pleasure. + Presently, Little Brother, a man with a gun follows our trail—if, + indeed, he be not already on it.” + </p> + <p> + “But why should he? Men have cast me out. What more do they need?” said + Mowgli angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Thou art a man, Little Brother,” Akela returned. “It is not for US, the + Free Hunters, to tell thee what thy brethren do, or why.” + </p> + <p> + He had just time to snatch up his paw as the skinning-knife cut deep into + the ground below. Mowgli struck quicker than an average human eye could + follow but Akela was a wolf; and even a dog, who is very far removed from + the wild wolf, his ancestor, can be waked out of deep sleep by a + cart-wheel touching his flank, and can spring away unharmed before that + wheel comes on. + </p> + <p> + “Another time,” Mowgli said quietly, returning the knife to its sheath, + “speak of the Man-Pack and of Mowgli in TWO breaths—not one.” + </p> + <p> + “Phff! That is a sharp tooth,” said Akela, snuffing at the blade’s cut in + the earth, “but living with the Man-Pack has spoiled thine eye, Little + Brother. I could have killed a buck while thou wast striking.” + </p> + <p> + Bagheera sprang to his feet, thrust up his head as far as he could, + sniffed, and stiffened through every curve in his body. Gray Brother + followed his example quickly, keeping a little to his left to get the wind + that was blowing from the right, while Akela bounded fifty yards up wind, + and, half-crouching, stiffened too. Mowgli looked on enviously. He could + smell things as very few human beings could, but he had never reached the + hair-trigger-like sensitiveness of a Jungle nose; and his three months in + the smoky village had set him back sadly. However, he dampened his finger, + rubbed it on his nose, and stood erect to catch the upper scent, which, + though it is the faintest, is the truest. + </p> + <p> + “Man!” Akela growled, dropping on his haunches. + </p> + <p> + “Buldeo!” said Mowgli, sitting down. “He follows our trail, and yonder is + the sunlight on his gun. Look!” + </p> + <p> + It was no more than a splash of sunlight, for a fraction of a second, on + the brass clamps of the old Tower musket, but nothing in the Jungle winks + with just that flash, except when the clouds race over the sky. Then a + piece of mica, or a little pool, or even a highly-polished leaf will flash + like a heliograph. But that day was cloudless and still. + </p> + <p> + “I knew men would follow,” said Akela triumphantly. “Not for nothing have + I led the Pack.” + </p> + <p> + The four cubs said nothing, but ran down hill on their bellies, melting + into the thorn and under-brush as a mole melts into a lawn. + </p> + <p> + “Where go ye, and without word?” Mowgli called. + </p> + <p> + “H’sh! We roll his skull here before mid-day!” Gray Brother answered. + </p> + <p> + “Back! Back and wait! Man does not eat Man!” Mowgli shrieked. + </p> + <p> + “Who was a wolf but now? Who drove the knife at me for thinking he might + be Man?” said Akela, as the four wolves turned back sullenly and dropped + to heel. + </p> + <p> + “Am I to give reason for all I choose to, do?” said Mowgli furiously. + </p> + <p> + “That is Man! There speaks Man!” Bagheera muttered under his whiskers. + “Even so did men talk round the King’s cages at Oodeypore. We of the + Jungle know that Man is wisest of all. If we trusted our ears we should + know that of all things he is most foolish.” Raising his voice, he added, + “The Man-cub is right in this. Men hunt in packs. To kill one, unless we + know what the others will do, is bad hunting. Come, let us see what this + Man means toward us.” + </p> + <p> + “We will not come,” Gray Brother growled. “Hunt alone, Little Brother. WE + know our own minds. The skull would have been ready to bring by now.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli had been looking from one to the other of his friends, his chest + heaving and his eyes full of tears. He strode forward to the wolves, and, + dropping on one knee, said: “Do I not know my mind? Look at me!” + </p> + <p> + They looked uneasily, and when their eyes wandered, he called them back + again and again, till their hair stood up all over their bodies, and they + trembled in every limb, while Mowgli stared and stared. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he, “of us five, which is leader?” + </p> + <p> + “Thou art leader, Little Brother,” said Gray Brother, and he licked + Mowgli’s foot. + </p> + <p> + “Follow, then,” said Mowgli, and the four followed at his heels with their + tails between their legs. + </p> + <p> + “This comes of living with the Man-Pack,” said Bagheera, slipping down + after them. “There is more in the Jungle now than Jungle Law, Baloo.” + </p> + <p> + The old bear said nothing, but he thought many things. + </p> + <p> + Mowgli cut across noiselessly through the Jungle, at right angles to + Buldeo’s path, till, parting the undergrowth, he saw the old man, his + musket on his shoulder, running up the trail of overnight at a dog-trot. + </p> + <p> + You will remember that Mowgli had left the village with the heavy weight + of Shere Khan’s raw hide on his shoulders, while Akela and Gray Brother + trotted behind, so that the triple trail was very clearly marked. + Presently Buldeo came to where Akela, as you know, had gone back and mixed + it all up. Then he sat down, and coughed and grunted, and made little + casts round and about into the Jungle to pick it up again, and, all the + time he could have thrown a stone over those who were watching him. No one + can be so silent as a wolf when he does not care to be heard; and Mowgli, + though the wolves thought he moved very clumsily, could come and go like a + shadow. They ringed the old man as a school of porpoises ring a steamer at + full speed, and as they ringed him they talked unconcernedly, for their + speech began below the lowest end of the scale that untrained human beings + can hear. [The other end is bounded by the high squeak of Mang, the Bat, + which very many people cannot catch at all. From that note all the bird + and bat and insect talk takes on.] + </p> + <p> + “This is better than any kill,” said Gray Brother, as Buldeo stooped and + peered and puffed. “He looks like a lost pig in the Jungles by the river. + What does he say?” Buldeo was muttering savagely. + </p> + <p> + Mowgli translated. “He says that packs of wolves must have danced round + me. He says that he never saw such a trail in his life. He says he is + tired.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be rested before he picks it up again,” said Bagheera coolly, as + he slipped round a tree-trunk, in the game of blindman’s-buff that they + were playing. “NOW, what does the lean thing do?” + </p> + <p> + “Eat or blow smoke out of his mouth. Men always play with their mouths,” + said Mowgli; and the silent trailers saw the old man fill and light and + puff at a water-pipe, and they took good note of the smell of the tobacco, + so as to be sure of Buldeo in the darkest night, if necessary. + </p> + <p> + Then a little knot of charcoal-burners came down the path, and naturally + halted to speak to Buldeo, whose fame as a hunter reached for at least + twenty miles round. They all sat down and smoked, and Bagheera and the + others came up and watched while Buldeo began to tell the story of Mowgli, + the Devil-child, from one end to another, with additions and inventions. + How he himself had really killed Shere Khan; and how Mowgli had turned + himself into a wolf, and fought with him all the afternoon, and changed + into a boy again and bewitched Buldeo’s rifle, so that the bullet turned + the corner, when he pointed it at Mowgli, and killed one of Buldeo’s own + buffaloes; and how the village, knowing him to be the bravest hunter in + Seeonee, had sent him out to kill this Devil-child. But meantime the + village had got hold of Messua and her husband, who were undoubtedly the + father and mother of this Devil-child, and had barricaded them in their + own hut, and presently would torture them to make them confess they were + witch and wizard, and then they would be burned to death. + </p> + <p> + “When?” said the charcoal-burners, because they would very much like to be + present at the ceremony. + </p> + <p> + Buldeo said that nothing would be done till he returned, because the + village wished him to kill the Jungle Boy first. After that they would + dispose of Messua and her husband, and divide their lands and buffaloes + among the village. Messua’s husband had some remarkably fine buffaloes, + too. It was an excellent thing to destroy wizards, Buldeo thought; and + people who entertained Wolf-children out of the Jungle were clearly the + worst kind of witches. + </p> + <p> + But, said the charcoal-burners, what would happen if the English heard of + it? The English, they had heard, were a perfectly mad people, who would + not let honest farmers kill witches in peace. + </p> + <p> + Why, said Buldeo, the head-man of the village would report that Messua and + her husband had died of snake-bite. THAT was all arranged, and the only + thing now was to kill the Wolf-child. They did not happen to have seen + anything of such a creature? + </p> + <p> + The charcoal-burners looked round cautiously, and thanked their stars they + had not; but they had no doubt that so brave a man as Buldeo would find + him if any one could. The sun was getting rather low, and they had an idea + that they would push on to Buldeo’s village and see that wicked witch. + Buldeo said that, though it was his duty to kill the Devil-child, he could + not think of letting a party of unarmed men go through the Jungle, which + might produce the Wolf-demon at any minute, without his escort. He, + therefore, would accompany them, and if the sorcerer’s child appeared—well, + he would show them how the best hunter in Seeonee dealt with such things. + The Brahmin, he said, had given him a charm against the creature that made + everything perfectly safe. + </p> + <p> + “What says he? What says he? What says he?” the wolves repeated every few + minutes; and Mowgli translated until he came to the witch part of the + story, which was a little beyond him, and then he said that the man and + woman who had been so kind to him were trapped. + </p> + <p> + “Does Man trap Man?” said Bagheera. + </p> + <p> + “So he says. I cannot understand the talk. They are all mad together. What + have Messua and her man to do with me that they should be put in a trap; + and what is all this talk about the Red Flower? I must look to this. + Whatever they would do to Messua they will not do till Buldeo returns. And + so——” Mowgli thought hard, with his fingers playing round the + haft of the skinning-knife, while Buldeo and the charcoal-burners went off + very valiantly in single file. + </p> + <p> + “I go hot-foot back to the Man-Pack,” Mowgli said at last. + </p> + <p> + “And those?” said Gray Brother, looking hungrily after the brown backs of + the charcoal-burners. + </p> + <p> + “Sing them home,” said Mowgli, with a grin; “I do not wish them to be at + the village gates till it is dark. Can ye hold them?” + </p> + <p> + Gray Brother bared his white teeth in contempt. “We can head them round + and round in circles like tethered goats—if I know Man.” + </p> + <p> + “That I do not need. Sing to them a little, lest they be lonely on the + road, and, Gray Brother, the song need not be of the sweetest. Go with + them, Bagheera, and help make that song. When night is shut down, meet me + by the village—Gray Brother knows the place.” + </p> + <p> + “It is no light hunting to work for a Man-cub. When shall I sleep?” said + Bagheera, yawning, though his eyes showed that he was delighted with the + amusement. “Me to sing to naked men! But let us try.” + </p> + <p> + He lowered his head so that the sound would travel, and cried a long, + long, “Good hunting”—a midnight call in the afternoon, which was + quite awful enough to begin with. Mowgli heard it rumble, and rise, and + fall, and die off in a creepy sort of whine behind him, and laughed to + himself as he ran through the Jungle. He could see the charcoal-burners + huddled in a knot; old Buldeo’s gun-barrel waving, like a banana-leaf, to + every point of the compass at once. Then Gray Brother gave the Ya-la-hi! + Yalaha! call for the buck-driving, when the Pack drives the nilghai, the + big blue cow, before them, and it seemed to come from the very ends of the + earth, nearer, and nearer, and nearer, till it ended in a shriek snapped + off short. The other three answered, till even Mowgli could have vowed + that the full Pack was in full cry, and then they all broke into the + magnificent Morning-song in the Jungle, with every turn, and flourish, and + grace-note that a deep-mouthed wolf of the Pack knows. This is a rough + rendering of the song, but you must imagine what it sounds like when it + breaks the afternoon hush of the Jungle:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + One moment past our bodies cast + No shadow on the plain; + Now clear and black they stride our track, + And we run home again. + In morning hush, each rock and bush + Stands hard, and high, and raw: + Then give the Call: “Good rest to all + That keep The Jungle Law!” + + Now horn and pelt our peoples melt + In covert to abide; + Now, crouched and still, to cave and hill + Our Jungle Barons glide. + Now, stark and plain, Man’s oxen strain, + That draw the new-yoked plough; + Now, stripped and dread, the dawn is red + Above the lit talao. + + Ho! Get to lair! The sun’s aflare + Behind the breathing grass: + And cracking through the young bamboo + The warning whispers pass. + By day made strange, the woods we range + With blinking eyes we scan; + While down the skies the wild duck cries + “The Day—the Day to Man!” + + The dew is dried that drenched our hide + Or washed about our way; + And where we drank, the puddled bank + Is crisping into clay. + The traitor Dark gives up each mark + Of stretched or hooded claw; + Then hear the Call: “Good rest to all + That keep the Jungle Law!” + </pre> + <p> + But no translation can give the effect of it, or the yelping scorn the + Four threw into every word of it, as they heard the trees crash when the + men hastily climbed up into the branches, and Buldeo began repeating + incantations and charms. Then they lay down and slept, for, like all who + live by their own exertions, they were of a methodical cast of mind; and + no one can work well without sleep. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Mowgli was putting the miles behind him, nine to the hour, + swinging on, delighted to find himself so fit after all his cramped months + among men. The one idea in his head was to get Messua and her husband out + of the trap, whatever it was; for he had a natural mistrust of traps. + Later on, he promised himself, he would pay his debts to the village at + large. + </p> + <p> + It was at twilight when he saw the well-remembered grazing-grounds, and + the dhak-tree where Gray Brother had waited for him on the morning that he + killed Shere Khan. Angry as he was at the whole breed and community of + Man, something jumped up in his throat and made him catch his breath when + he looked at the village roofs. He noticed that every one had come in from + the fields unusually early, and that, instead of getting to their evening + cooking, they gathered in a crowd under the village tree, and chattered, + and shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Men must always be making traps for men, or they are not content,” said + Mowgli. “Last night it was Mowgli—but that night seems many Rains + ago. To-night it is Messua and her man. To-morrow, and for very many + nights after, it will be Mowgli’s turn again.” + </p> + <p> + He crept along outside the wall till he came to Messua’s hut, and looked + through the window into the room. There lay Messua, gagged, and bound hand + and foot, breathing hard, and groaning: her husband was tied to the + gaily-painted bedstead. The door of the hut that opened into the street + was shut fast, and three or four people were sitting with their backs to + it. + </p> + <p> + Mowgli knew the manners and customs of the villagers very fairly. He + argued that so long as they could eat, and talk, and smoke, they would not + do anything else; but as soon as they had fed they would begin to be + dangerous. Buldeo would be coming in before long, and if his escort had + done its duty, Buldeo would have a very interesting tale to tell. So he + went in through the window, and, stooping over the man and the woman, cut + their thongs, pulling out the gags, and looked round the hut for some + milk. + </p> + <p> + Messua was half wild with pain and fear (she had been beaten and stoned + all the morning), and Mowgli put his hand over her mouth just in time to + stop a scream. Her husband was only bewildered and angry, and sat picking + dust and things out of his torn beard. + </p> + <p> + “I knew—I knew he would come,” Messua sobbed at last. “Now do I KNOW + that he is my son!” and she hugged Mowgli to her heart. Up to that time + Mowgli had been perfectly steady, but now he began to tremble all over, + and that surprised him immensely. + </p> + <p> + “Why are these thongs? Why have they tied thee?” he asked, after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “To be put to the death for making a son of thee—what else?” said + the man sullenly. “Look! I bleed.” + </p> + <p> + Messua said nothing, but it was at her wounds that Mowgli looked, and they + heard him grit his teeth when he saw the blood. + </p> + <p> + “Whose work is this?” said he. “There is a price to pay.” + </p> + <p> + “The work of all the village. I was too rich. I had too many cattle. + THEREFORE she and I are witches, because we gave thee shelter.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand. Let Messua tell the tale.” + </p> + <p> + “I gave thee milk, Nathoo; dost thou remember?” Messua said timidly. + “Because thou wast my son, whom the tiger took, and because I loved thee + very dearly. They said that I was thy mother, the mother of a devil, and + therefore worthy of death.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is a devil?” said Mowgli. “Death I have seen.” + </p> + <p> + The man looked up gloomily, but Messua laughed. “See!” she said to her + husband, “I knew—I said that he was no sorcerer. He is my son—my + son!” + </p> + <p> + “Son or sorcerer, what good will that do us?” the man answered. “We be as + dead already.” + </p> + <p> + “Yonder is the road to the Jungle”—Mowgli pointed through the + window. “Your hands and feet are free. Go now.” + </p> + <p> + “We do not know the Jungle, my son, as—as thou knowest,” Messua + began. “I do not think that I could walk far.” + </p> + <p> + “And the men and women would be upon our backs and drag us here again,” + said the husband. + </p> + <p> + “H’m!” said Mowgli, and he tickled the palm of his hand with the tip of + his skinning-knife; “I have no wish to do harm to any one of this village—YET. + But I do not think they will stay thee. In a little while they will have + much else to think upon. Ah!” he lifted his head and listened to shouting + and trampling outside. “So they have let Buldeo come home at last?” + </p> + <p> + “He was sent out this morning to kill thee,” Messua cried. “Didst thou + meet him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—we—I met him. He has a tale to tell and while he is + telling it there is time to do much. But first I will learn what they + mean. Think where ye would go, and tell me when I come back.” + </p> + <p> + He bounded through the window and ran along again outside the wall of the + village till he came within ear-shot of the crowd round the peepul-tree. + Buldeo was lying on the ground, coughing and groaning, and every one was + asking him questions. His hair had fallen about his shoulders; his hands + and legs were skinned from climbing up trees, and he could hardly speak, + but he felt the importance of his position keenly. From time to time he + said something about devils and singing devils, and magic enchantment, + just to give the crowd a taste of what was coming. Then he called for + water. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” said Mowgli. “Chatter—chatter! Talk, talk! Men are + blood-brothers of the Bandar-log. Now he must wash his mouth with water; + now he must blow smoke; and when all that is done he has still his story + to tell. They are very wise people—men. They will leave no one to + guard Messua till their ears are stuffed with Buldeo’s tales. And—I + grow as lazy as they!” + </p> + <p> + He shook himself and glided back to the hut. Just as he was at the window + he felt a touch on his foot. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” said he, for he knew that tongue well, “what dost THOU here?” + </p> + <p> + “I heard my children singing through the woods, and I followed the one I + loved best. Little Frog, I have a desire to see that woman who gave thee + milk,” said Mother Wolf, all wet with the dew. + </p> + <p> + “They have bound and mean to kill her. I have cut those ties, and she goes + with her man through the Jungle.” + </p> + <p> + “I also will follow. I am old, but not yet toothless.” Mother Wolf reared + herself up on end, and looked through the window into the dark of the hut. + </p> + <p> + In a minute she dropped noiselessly, and all she said was: “I gave thee + thy first milk; but Bagheera speaks truth: Man goes to Man at the last.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe,” said Mowgli, with a very unpleasant look on his face; “but + to-night I am very far from that trail. Wait here, but do not let her + see.” + </p> + <p> + “THOU wast never afraid of ME, Little Frog,” said Mother Wolf, backing + into the high grass, and blotting herself out, as she knew how. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Mowgli cheerfully, as he swung into the hut again, “they + are all sitting round Buldeo, who is saying that which did not happen. + When his talk is finished, they say they will assuredly come here with the + Red—with fire and burn you both. And then?” + </p> + <p> + “I have spoken to my man,” said Messua. “Khanhiwara is thirty miles from + here, but at Khanhiwara we may find the English—” + </p> + <p> + “And what Pack are they?” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know. They be white, and it is said that they govern all the + land, and do not suffer people to burn or beat each other without + witnesses. If we can get thither to-night, we live. Otherwise we die.” + </p> + <p> + “Live, then. No man passes the gates to-night. But what does HE do?” + Messua’s husband was on his hands and knees digging up the earth in one + corner of the hut. + </p> + <p> + “It is his little money,” said Messua. “We can take nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes. The stuff that passes from hand to hand and never grows warmer. + Do they need it outside this place also?” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + The man stared angrily. “He is a fool, and no devil,” he muttered. “With + the money I can buy a horse. We are too bruised to walk far, and the + village will follow us in an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I say they will NOT follow till I choose; but a horse is well thought of, + for Messua is tired.” Her husband stood up and knotted the last of the + rupees into his waist-cloth. Mowgli helped Messua through the window, and + the cool night air revived her, but the Jungle in the starlight looked + very dark and terrible. + </p> + <p> + “Ye know the trail to Khanhiwara?” Mowgli whispered. + </p> + <p> + They nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Good. Remember, now, not to be afraid. And there is no need to go + quickly. Only—only there may be some small singing in the Jungle + behind you and before.” + </p> + <p> + “Think you we would have risked a night in the Jungle through anything + less than the fear of burning? It is better to be killed by beasts than by + men,” said Messua’s husband; but Messua looked at Mowgli and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” Mowgli went on, just as though he were Baloo repeating an old + Jungle Law for the hundredth time to a foolish cub—“I say that not a + tooth in the Jungle is bared against you; not a foot in the Jungle is + lifted against you. Neither man nor beast shall stay you till you come + within eye-shot of Khanhiwara. There will be a watch about you.” He turned + quickly to Messua, saying, “HE does not believe, but thou wilt believe?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, surely, my son. Man, ghost, or wolf of the Jungle, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “HE will be afraid when he hears my people singing. Thou wilt know and + understand. Go now, and slowly, for there is no need of any haste. The + gates are shut.” + </p> + <p> + Messua flung herself sobbing at Mowgli’s feet, but he lifted her very + quickly with a shiver. Then she hung about his neck and called him every + name of blessing she could think of, but her husband looked enviously + across his fields, and said: “IF we reach Khanhiwara, and I get the ear of + the English, I will bring such a lawsuit against the Brahmin and old + Buldeo and the others as shall eat the village to the bone. They shall pay + me twice over for my crops untilled and my buffaloes unfed. I will have a + great justice.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli laughed. “I do not know what justice is, but—come next Rains. + and see what is left.” + </p> + <p> + They went off toward the Jungle, and Mother Wolf leaped from her place of + hiding. + </p> + <p> + “Follow!” said Mowgli; “and look to it that all the Jungle knows these two + are safe. Give tongue a little. I would call Bagheera.” + </p> + <p> + The long, low howl rose and fell, and Mowgli saw Messua’s husband flinch + and turn, half minded to run back to the hut. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” Mowgli called cheerfully. “I said there might be singing. That + call will follow up to Khanhiwara. It is Favour of the Jungle.” + </p> + <p> + Messua urged her husband forward, and the darkness shut down on them and + Mother Wolf as Bagheera rose up almost under Mowgli’s feet, trembling with + delight of the night that drives the Jungle People wild. + </p> + <p> + “I am ashamed of thy brethren,” he said, purring. “What? Did they not sing + sweetly to Buldeo?” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “Too well! Too well! They made even ME forget my pride, and, by the Broken + Lock that freed me, I went singing through the Jungle as though I were out + wooing in the spring! Didst thou not hear us?” + </p> + <p> + “I had other game afoot. Ask Buldeo if he liked the song. But where are + the Four? I do not wish one of the Man-Pack to leave the gates to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “What need of the Four, then?” said Bagheera, shifting from foot to foot, + his eyes ablaze, and purring louder than ever. “I can hold them, Little + Brother. Is it killing at last? The singing and the sight of the men + climbing up the trees have made me very ready. Who is Man that we should + care for him—the naked brown digger, the hairless and toothless, the + eater of earth? I have followed him all day—at noon—in the + white sunlight. I herded him as the wolves herd buck. I am Bagheera! + Bagheera! Bagheera! As I dance with my shadow, so danced I with those men. + Look!” The great panther leaped as a kitten leaps at a dead leaf whirling + overhead, struck left and right into the empty air, that sang under the + strokes, landed noiselessly, and leaped again and again, while the half + purr, half growl gathered head as steam rumbles in a boiler. “I am + Bagheera—in the jungle—in the night, and my strength is in me. + Who shall stay my stroke? Man-cub, with one blow of my paw I could beat + thy head flat as a dead frog in the summer!” + </p> + <p> + “Strike, then!” said Mowgli, in the dialect of the village, NOT the talk + of the Jungle, and the human words brought Bagheera to a full stop, flung + back on haunches that quivered under him, his head just at the level of + Mowgli’s. Once more Mowgli stared, as he had stared at the rebellious + cubs, full into the beryl-green eyes till the red glare behind their green + went out like the light of a lighthouse shut off twenty miles across the + sea; till the eyes dropped, and the big head with them—dropped lower + and lower, and the red rasp of a tongue grated on Mowgli’s instep. + </p> + <p> + “Brother—Brother—Brother!” the boy whispered, stroking + steadily and lightly from the neck along the heaving back. “Be still, be + still! It is the fault of the night, and no fault of thine.” + </p> + <p> + “It was the smells of the night,” said Bagheera penitently. “This air + cries aloud to me. But how dost THOU know?” + </p> + <p> + Of course the air round an Indian village is full of all kinds of smells, + and to any creature who does nearly all his thinking through his nose, + smells are as maddening as music and drugs are to human beings. Mowgli + gentled the panther for a few minutes longer, and he lay down like a cat + before a fire, his paws tucked under his breast, and his eyes half shut. + </p> + <p> + “Thou art of the Jungle and NOT of the Jungle,” he said at last. “And I am + only a black panther. But I love thee, Little Brother.” + </p> + <p> + “They are very long at their talk under the tree,” Mowgli said, without + noticing the last sentence. “Buldeo must have told many tales. They should + come soon to drag the woman and her man out of the trap and put them into + the Red Flower. They will find that trap sprung. Ho! ho!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, listen,” said Bagheera. “The fever is out of my blood now. Let them + find ME there! Few would leave their houses after meeting me. It is not + the first time I have been in a cage; and I do not think they will tie ME + with cords.” + </p> + <p> + “Be wise, then,” said Mowgli, laughing; for he was beginning to feel as + reckless as the panther, who had glided into the hut. + </p> + <p> + “Pah!” Bagheera grunted. “This place is rank with Man, but here is just + such a bed as they gave me to lie upon in the King’s cages at Oodeypore. + Now I lie down.” Mowgli heard the strings of the cot crack under the great + brute’s weight. “By the Broken Lock that freed me, they will think they + have caught big game! Come and sit beside me, Little Brother; we will give + them ‘good hunting’ together!” + </p> + <p> + “No; I have another thought in my stomach. The Man-Pack shall not know + what share I have in the sport. Make thine own hunt. I do not wish to see + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Be it so,” said Bagheera. “Ah, now they come!” + </p> + <p> + The conference under the peepul-tree had been growing noisier and noisier, + at the far end of the village. It broke in wild yells, and a rush up the + street of men and women, waving clubs and bamboos and sickles and knives. + Buldeo and the Brahmin were at the head of it, but the mob was close at + their heels, and they cried, “The witch and the wizard! Let us see if hot + coins will make them confess! Burn the hut over their heads! We will teach + them to shelter wolf-devils! Nay, beat them first! Torches! More torches! + Buldeo, heat the gun-barrels!” + </p> + <p> + Here was some little difficulty with the catch of the door. It had been + very firmly fastened, but the crowd tore it away bodily, and the light of + the torches streamed into the room where, stretched at full length on the + bed, his paws crossed and lightly hung down over one end, black as the + Pit, and terrible as a demon, was Bagheera. There was one half-minute of + desperate silence, as the front ranks of the crowd clawed and tore their + way back from the threshold, and in that minute Bagheera raised his head + and yawned—elaborately, carefully, and ostentatiously—as he + would yawn when he wished to insult an equal. The fringed lips drew back + and up; the red tongue curled; the lower jaw dropped and dropped till you + could see half-way down the hot gullet; and the gigantic dog-teeth stood + clear to the pit of the gums till they rang together, upper and under, + with the snick of steel-faced wards shooting home round the edges of a + safe. Next instant the street was empty; Bagheera had leaped back through + the window, and stood at Mowgli’s side, while a yelling, screaming torrent + scrambled and tumbled one over another in their panic haste to get to + their own huts. + </p> + <p> + “They will not stir till day comes,” said Bagheera quietly. “And now?” + </p> + <p> + The silence of the afternoon sleep seemed to have overtaken the village; + but, as they listened, they could hear the sound of heavy grain-boxes + being dragged over earthen floors and set down against doors. Bagheera was + quite right; the village would not stir till daylight. Mowgli sat still, + and thought, and his face grew darker and darker. + </p> + <p> + “What have I done?” said Bagheera, at last coming to his feet, fawning. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing but great good. Watch them now till the day. I sleep.” Mowgli ran + off into the Jungle, and dropped like a dead man across a rock, and slept + and slept the day round, and the night back again. + </p> + <p> + When he waked, Bagheera was at his side, and there was a newly-killed buck + at his feet. Bagheera watched curiously while Mowgli went to work with his + skinning-knife, ate and drank, and turned over with his chin in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “The man and the woman are come safe within eye-shot of Khanhiwara,” + Bagheera said. “Thy lair mother sent the word back by Chil, the Kite. They + found a horse before midnight of the night they were freed, and went very + quickly. Is not that well?” + </p> + <p> + “That is well,” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “And thy Man-Pack in the village did not stir till the sun was high this + morning. Then they ate their food and ran back quickly to their houses.” + </p> + <p> + “Did they, by chance, see thee?” + </p> + <p> + “It may have been. I was rolling in the dust before the gate at dawn, and + I may have made also some small song to myself. Now, Little Brother, there + is nothing more to do. Come hunting with me and Baloo. He has new hives + that he wishes to show, and we all desire thee back again as of old. Take + off that look which makes even me afraid! The man and woman will not be + put into the Red Flower, and all goes well in the Jungle. Is it not true? + Let us forget the Man-Pack.” + </p> + <p> + “They shall be forgotten in a little while. Where does Hathi feed + to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Where he chooses. Who can answer for the Silent One? But why? What is + there Hathi can do which we cannot?” + </p> + <p> + “Bid him and his three sons come here to me.” + </p> + <p> + “But, indeed, and truly, Little Brother, it is not—it is not seemly + to say ‘Come,’ and ‘Go,’ to Hathi. Remember, he is the Master of the + Jungle, and before the Man-Pack changed the look on thy face, he taught + thee the Master-words of the Jungle.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all one. I have a Master-word for him now. Bid him come to + Mowgli, the Frog: and if he does not hear at first, bid him come because + of the Sack of the Fields of Bhurtpore.” + </p> + <p> + “The Sack of the Fields of Bhurtpore,” Bagheera repeated two or three + times to make sure. “I go. Hathi can but be angry at the worst, and I + would give a moon’s hunting to hear a Master-word that compels the Silent + One.” + </p> + <p> + He went away, leaving Mowgli stabbing furiously with his skinning-knife + into the earth. Mowgli had never seen human blood in his life before till + he had seen, and—what meant much more to him—smelled Messua’s + blood on the thongs that bound her. And Messua had been kind to him, and, + so far as he knew anything about love, he loved Messua as completely as he + hated the rest of mankind. But deeply as he loathed them, their talk, + their cruelty, and their cowardice, not for anything the Jungle had to + offer could he bring himself to take a human life, and have that terrible + scent of blood back again in his nostrils. His plan was simpler, but much + more thorough; and he laughed to himself when he thought that it was one + of old Buldeo’s tales told under the peepul-tree in the evening that had + put the idea into his head. + </p> + <p> + “It WAS a Master-word,” Bagheera whispered in his ear. “They were feeding + by the river, and they obeyed as though they were bullocks. Look where + they come now!” + </p> + <p> + Hathi and his three sons had arrived, in their usual way, without a sound. + The mud of the river was still fresh on their flanks, and Hathi was + thoughtfully chewing the green stem of a young plantain-tree that he had + gouged up with his tusks. But every line in his vast body showed to + Bagheera, who could see things when he came across them, that it was not + the Master of the Jungle speaking to a Man-cub, but one who was afraid + coming before one who was not. His three sons rolled side by side, behind + their father. + </p> + <p> + Mowgli hardly lifted his head as Hathi gave him “Good hunting.” He kept + him swinging and rocking, and shifting from one foot to another, for a + long time before he spoke; and when he opened his mouth it was to + Bagheera, not to the elephants. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell a tale that was told to me by the hunter ye hunted to-day,” + said Mowgli. “It concerns an elephant, old and wise, who fell into a trap, + and the sharpened stake in the pit scarred him from a little above his + heel to the crest of his shoulder, leaving a white mark.” Mowgli threw out + his hand, and as Hathi wheeled the moonlight showed a long white scar on + his slaty side, as though he had been struck with a red-hot whip. “Men + came to take him from the trap,” Mowgli continued, “but he broke his + ropes, for he was strong, and went away till his wound was healed. Then + came he, angry, by night to the fields of those hunters. And I remember + now that he had three sons. These things happened many, many Rains ago, + and very far away—among the fields of Bhurtpore. What came to those + fields at the next reaping, Hathi?” + </p> + <p> + “They were reaped by me and by my three sons,” said Hathi. + </p> + <p> + “And to the ploughing that follows the reaping?” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “There was no ploughing,” said Hathi. + </p> + <p> + “And to the men that live by the green crops on the ground?” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “They went away.” + </p> + <p> + “And to the huts in which the men slept?” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “We tore the roofs to pieces, and the Jungle swallowed up the walls,” said + Hathi. + </p> + <p> + “And what more?” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “As much good ground as I can walk over in two nights from the east to the + west, and from the north to the south as much as I can walk over in three + nights, the Jungle took. We let in the Jungle upon five villages; and in + those villages, and in their lands, the grazing-ground and the soft + crop-grounds, there is not one man to-day who takes his food from the + ground. That was the Sack of the Fields of Bhurtpore, which I and my three + sons did; and now I ask, Man-cub, how the news of it came to thee?” said + Hathi. + </p> + <p> + “A man told me, and now I see even Buldeo can speak truth. It was well + done, Hathi with the white mark; but the second time it shall be done + better, for the reason that there is a man to direct. Thou knowest the + village of the Man-Pack that cast me out? They are idle, senseless, and + cruel; they play with their mouths, and they do not kill the weaker for + food, but for sport. When they are full-fed they would throw their own + breed into the Red Flower. This I have seen. It is not well that they + should live here any more. I hate them!” + </p> + <p> + “Kill, then,” said the youngest of Hathi’s three sons, picking up a tuft + of grass, dusting it against his fore-legs, and throwing it away, while + his little red eyes glanced furtively from side to side. + </p> + <p> + “What good are white bones to me?” Mowgli answered angrily. “Am I the cub + of a wolf to play in the sun with a raw head? I have killed Shere Khan, + and his hide rots on the Council Rock; but—but I do not know whither + Shere Khan is gone, and my stomach is still empty. Now I will take that + which I can see and touch. Let in the Jungle upon that village, Hathi!” + </p> + <p> + Bagheera shivered, and cowered down. He could understand, if the worst + came to the worst, a quick rush down the village street, and a right and + left blow into a crowd, or a crafty killing of men as they ploughed in the + twilight; but this scheme for deliberately blotting out an entire village + from the eyes of man and beast frightened him. Now he saw why Mowgli had + sent for Hathi. No one but the long-lived elephant could plan and carry + through such a war. + </p> + <p> + “Let them run as the men ran from the fields of Bhurtpore, till we have + the rain-water for the only plough, and the noise of the rain on the thick + leaves for the pattering of their spindles—till Bagheera and I lair + in the house of the Brahmin, and the buck drink at the tank behind the + temple! Let in the Jungle, Hathi!” + </p> + <p> + “But I—but we have no quarrel with them, and it needs the red rage + of great pain ere we tear down the places where men sleep,” said Hathi + doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Are ye the only eaters of grass in the Jungle? Drive in your peoples. Let + the deer and the pig and the nilghai look to it. Ye need never show a + hand’s-breadth of hide till the fields are naked. Let in the Jungle, + Hathi!” + </p> + <p> + “There will be no killing? My tusks were red at the Sack of the Fields of + Bhurtpore, and I would not wake that smell again.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I. I do not wish even their bones to lie on the clean earth. Let them + go and find a fresh lair. They cannot stay here. I have seen and smelled + the blood of the woman that gave me food—the woman whom they would + have killed but for me. Only the smell of the new grass on their + door-steps can take away that smell. It burns in my mouth. Let in the + Jungle, Hathi!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Hathi. “So did the scar of the stake burn on my hide till we + watched the villages die under in the spring growth. Now I see. Thy war + shall be our war. We will let in the jungle!” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli had hardly time to catch his breath—he was shaking all over + with rage and hate before the place where the elephants had stood was + empty, and Bagheera was looking at him with terror. + </p> + <p> + “By the Broken Lock that freed me!” said the Black Panther at last. “Art + THOU the naked thing I spoke for in the Pack when all was young? Master of + the Jungle, when my strength goes, speak for me—speak for Baloo—speak + for us all! We are cubs before thee! Snapped twigs under foot! Fawns that + have lost their doe!” + </p> + <p> + The idea of Bagheera being a stray fawn upset Mowgli altogether, and he + laughed and caught his breath, and sobbed and laughed again, till he had + to jump into a pool to make himself stop. Then he swam round and round, + ducking in and out of the bars of the moonlight like the frog, his + namesake. + </p> + <p> + By this time Hathi and his three sons had turned, each to one point of the + compass, and were striding silently down the valleys a mile away. They + went on and on for two days’ march—that is to say, a long sixty + miles—through the Jungle; and every step they took, and every wave + of their trunks, was known and noted and talked over by Mang and Chil and + the Monkey People and all the birds. Then they began to feed, and fed + quietly for a week or so. Hathi and his sons are like Kaa, the Rock + Python. They never hurry till they have to. + </p> + <p> + At the end of that time—and none knew who had started it—a + rumour went through the Jungle that there was better food and water to be + found in such and such a valley. The pig—who, of course, will go to + the ends of the earth for a full meal—moved first by companies, + scuffling over the rocks, and the deer followed, with the small wild foxes + that live on the dead and dying of the herds; and the heavy-shouldered + nilghai moved parallel with the deer, and the wild buffaloes of the swamps + came after the nilghai. The least little thing would have turned the + scattered, straggling droves that grazed and sauntered and drank and + grazed again; but whenever there was an alarm some one would rise up and + soothe them. At one time it would be Ikki the Porcupine, full of news of + good feed just a little farther on; at another Mang would cry cheerily and + flap down a glade to show it was all empty; or Baloo, his mouth full of + roots, would shamble alongside a wavering line and half frighten, half + romp it clumsily back to the proper road. Very many creatures broke back + or ran away or lost interest, but very many were left to go forward. At + the end of another ten days or so the situation was this. The deer and the + pig and the nilghai were milling round and round in a circle of eight or + ten miles radius, while the Eaters of Flesh skirmished round its edge. And + the centre of that circle was the village, and round the village the crops + were ripening, and in the crops sat men on what they call machans—platforms + like pigeon-perches, made of sticks at the top of four poles—to + scare away birds and other stealers. Then the deer were coaxed no more. + The Eaters of Flesh were close behind them, and forced them forward and + inward. + </p> + <p> + It was a dark night when Hathi and his three sons slipped down from the + Jungle, and broke off the poles of the machans with their trunks; they + fell as a snapped stalk of hemlock in bloom falls, and the men that + tumbled from them heard the deep gurgling of the elephants in their ears. + Then the vanguard of the bewildered armies of the deer broke down and + flooded into the village grazing-grounds and the ploughed fields; and the + sharp-hoofed, rooting wild pig came with them, and what the deer left the + pig spoiled, and from time to time an alarm of wolves would shake the + herds, and they would rush to and fro desperately, treading down the young + barley, and cutting flat the banks of the irrigating channels. Before the + dawn broke the pressure on the outside of the circle gave way at one + point. The Eaters of Flesh had fallen back and left an open path to the + south, and drove upon drove of buck fled along it. Others, who were + bolder, lay up in the thickets to finish their meal next night. + </p> + <p> + But the work was practically done. When the villagers looked in the + morning they saw their crops were lost. And that meant death if they did + not get away, for they lived year in and year out as near to starvation as + the Jungle was near to them. When the buffaloes were sent to graze the + hungry brutes found that the deer had cleared the grazing-grounds, and so + wandered into the Jungle and drifted off with their wild mates; and when + twilight fell the three or four ponies that belonged to the village lay in + their stables with their heads beaten in. Only Bagheera could have given + those strokes, and only Bagheera would have thought of insolently dragging + the last carcass to the open street. + </p> + <p> + The villagers had no heart to make fires in the fields that night, so + Hathi and his three sons went gleaning among what was left; and where + Hathi gleans there is no need to follow. The men decided to live on their + stored seed-corn until the rains had fallen, and then to take work as + servants till they could catch up with the lost year; but as the + grain-dealer was thinking of his well-filled crates of corn, and the + prices he would levy at the sale of it, Hathi’s sharp tusks were picking + out the corner of his mud-house, and smashing open the big wicker chest, + leeped with cow-dung, where the precious stuff lay. + </p> + <p> + When that last loss was discovered, it was the Brahmin’s turn to speak. He + had prayed to his own Gods without answer. It might be, he said, that, + unconsciously, the village had offended some one of the Gods of the + Jungle, for, beyond doubt, the Jungle was against them. So they sent for + the head-man of the nearest tribe of wandering Gonds—little, wise, + and very black hunters, living in the deep Jungle, whose fathers came of + the oldest race in India—the aboriginal owners of the land. They + made the Gond welcome with what they had, and he stood on one leg, his bow + in his hand, and two or three poisoned arrows stuck through his top-knot, + looking half afraid and half contemptuously at the anxious villagers and + their ruined fields. They wished to know whether his Gods—the Old + Gods—were angry with them and what sacrifices should be offered. The + Gond said nothing, but picked up a trail of the Karela, the vine that + bears the bitter wild gourd, and laced it to and fro across the temple + door in the face of the staring red Hindu image. Then he pushed with his + hand in the open air along the road to Khanhiwara, and went back to his + Jungle, and watched the Jungle People drifting through it. He knew that + when the Jungle moves only white men can hope to turn it aside. + </p> + <p> + There was no need to ask his meaning. The wild gourd would grow where they + had worshipped their God, and the sooner they saved themselves the better. + </p> + <p> + But it is hard to tear a village from its moorings. They stayed on as long + as any summer food was left to them, and they tried to gather nuts in the + Jungle, but shadows with glaring eyes watched them, and rolled before them + even at mid-day; and when they ran back afraid to their walls, on the + tree-trunks they had passed not five minutes before the bark would be + stripped and chiselled with the stroke of some great taloned paw. The more + they kept to their village, the bolder grew the wild things that gambolled + and bellowed on the grazing-grounds by the Waingunga. They had no time to + patch and plaster the rear walls of the empty byres that backed on to the + Jungle; the wild pig trampled them down, and the knotty-rooted vines + hurried after and threw their elbows over the new-won ground, and the + coarse grass bristled behind the vines like the lances of a goblin army + following a retreat. The unmarried men ran away first, and carried the + news far and near that the village was doomed. Who could fight, they said, + against the Jungle, or the Gods of the Jungle, when the very village cobra + had left his hole in the platform under the peepul-tree? So their little + commerce with the outside world shrunk as the trodden paths across the + open grew fewer and fainter. At last the nightly trumpetings of Hathi and + his three sons ceased to trouble them; for they had no more to be robbed + of. The crop on the ground and the seed in the ground had been taken. The + outlying fields were already losing their shape, and it was time to throw + themselves on the charity of the English at Khanhiwara. + </p> + <p> + Native fashion, they delayed their departure from one day to another till + the first Rains caught them and the unmended roofs let in a flood, and the + grazing-ground stood ankle deep, and all life came on with a rush after + the heat of the summer. Then they waded out—men, women, and children—through + the blinding hot rain of the morning, but turned naturally for one + farewell look at their homes. + </p> + <p> + They heard, as the last burdened family filed through the gate, a crash of + falling beams and thatch behind the walls. They saw a shiny, snaky black + trunk lifted for an instant, scattering sodden thatch. It disappeared, and + there was another crash, followed by a squeal. Hathi had been plucking off + the roofs of the huts as you pluck water-lilies, and a rebounding beam had + pricked him. He needed only this to unchain his full strength, for of all + things in the Jungle the wild elephant enraged is the most wantonly + destructive. He kicked backward at a mud wall that crumbled at the stroke, + and, crumbling, melted to yellow mud under the torrent of rain. Then he + wheeled and squealed, and tore through the narrow streets, leaning against + the huts right and left, shivering the crazy doors, and crumpling up the + caves; while his three sons raged behind as they had raged at the Sack of + the Fields of Bhurtpore. + </p> + <p> + “The Jungle will swallow these shells,” said a quiet voice in the + wreckage. “It is the outer wall that must lie down,” and Mowgli, with the + rain sluicing over his bare shoulders and arms, leaped back from a wall + that was settling like a tired buffalo. + </p> + <p> + “All in good time,” panted Hathi. “Oh, but my tusks were red at Bhurtpore; + To the outer wall, children! With the head! Together! Now!” + </p> + <p> + The four pushed side by side; the outer wall bulged, split, and fell, and + the villagers, dumb with horror, saw the savage, clay-streaked heads of + the wreckers in the ragged gap. Then they fled, houseless and foodless, + down the valley, as their village, shredded and tossed and trampled, + melted behind them. + </p> + <p> + A month later the place was a dimpled mound, covered with soft, green + young stuff; and by the end of the Rains there was the roaring jungle in + full blast on the spot that had been under plough not six months before. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MOWGLI’S SONG AGAINST PEOPLE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I will let loose against you the fleet-footed vines— + I will call in the Jungle to stamp out your lines! + The roofs shall fade before it, + The house-beams shall fall, + And the Karela, the bitter Karela, + Shall cover it all! + + In the gates of these your councils my people shall sing, + In the doors of these your garners the Bat-folk shall cling; + And the snake shall be your watchman, + By a hearthstone unswept; + For the Karela, the bitter Karela, + Shall fruit where ye slept! + + Ye shall not see my strikers; ye shall hear them and guess; + By night, before the moon-rise, I will send for my cess, + And the wolf shall be your herdsman + By a landmark removed, + For the Karela, the bitter Karela, + Shall seed where ye loved! + + I will reap your fields before you at the hands of a host; + Ye shall glean behind my reapers, for the bread that is lost, + And the deer shall be your oxen + By a headland untilled, + For the Karela, the bitter Karela, + Shall leaf where ye build! + + I have untied against you the club-footed vines, + I have sent in the Jungle to swamp out your lines. + The trees—the trees are on you! + The house-beams shall fall, + And the Karela, the bitter Karela, + Shall cover you all! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE UNDERTAKERS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + When ye say to Tabaqui, “My Brother!” when ye call the + Hyena to meat, + Ye may cry the Full Truce with Jacala—the Belly that runs + on four feet. + Jungle Law +</pre> + <p> + “Respect the aged!” + </p> + <p> + “It was a thick voice—a muddy voice that would have made you shudder—a + voice like something soft breaking in two. There was a quaver in it, a + croak and a whine. + </p> + <p> + “Respect the aged! O Companions of the River—respect the aged!” + </p> + <p> + Nothing could be seen on the broad reach of the river except a little + fleet of square-sailed, wooden-pinned barges, loaded with building-stone, + that had just come under the railway bridge, and were driving down-stream. + They put their clumsy helms over to avoid the sand-bar made by the scour + of the bridge-piers, and as they passed, three abreast, the horrible voice + began again: + </p> + <p> + “O Brahmins of the River—respect the aged and infirm!” + </p> + <p> + A boatman turned where he sat on the gunwale, lifted up his hand, said + something that was not a blessing, and the boats creaked on through the + twilight. The broad Indian river, that looked more like a chain of little + lakes than a stream, was as smooth as glass, reflecting the sandy-red sky + in mid-channel, but splashed with patches of yellow and dusky purple near + and under the low banks. Little creeks ran into the river in the wet + season, but now their dry mouths hung clear above water-line. On the left + shore, and almost under the railway bridge, stood a mud-and-brick and + thatch-and-stick village, whose main street, full of cattle going back to + their byres, ran straight to the river, and ended in a sort of rude brick + pier-head, where people who wanted to wash could wade in step by step. + That was the Ghaut of the village of Mugger-Ghaut. + </p> + <p> + Night was falling fast over the fields of lentils and rice and cotton in + the low-lying ground yearly flooded by the river; over the reeds that + fringed the elbow of the bend, and the tangled jungle of the + grazing-grounds behind the still reeds. The parrots and crows, who had + been chattering and shouting over their evening drink, had flown inland to + roost, crossing the out-going battalions of the flying-foxes; and cloud + upon cloud of water-birds came whistling and “honking” to the cover of the + reed-beds. There were geese, barrel-headed and black-backed, teal, + widgeon, mallard, and sheldrake, with curlews, and here and there a + flamingo. + </p> + <p> + A lumbering Adjutant-crane brought up the rear, flying as though each slow + stroke would be his last. + </p> + <p> + “Respect the aged! Brahmins of the River—respect the aged!” + </p> + <p> + The Adjutant half turned his head, sheered a little in the direction of + the voice, and landed stiffly on the sand-bar below the bridge. Then you + saw what a ruffianly brute he really was. His back view was immensely + respectable, for he stood nearly six feet high, and looked rather like a + very proper bald-headed parson. In front it was different, for his Ally + Sloper-like head and neck had not a feather to them, and there was a + horrible raw-skin pouch on his neck under his chin—a hold-all for + the things his pick-axe beak might steal. His legs were long and thin and + skinny, but he moved them delicately, and looked at them with pride as he + preened down his ashy-gray tail-feathers, glanced over the smooth of his + shoulder, and stiffened into “Stand at attention.” + </p> + <p> + A mangy little Jackal, who had been yapping hungrily on a low bluff, + cocked up his ears and tail, and scuttered across the shallows to join the + Adjutant. + </p> + <p> + He was the lowest of his caste—not that the best of jackals are good + for much, but this one was peculiarly low, being half a beggar, half a + criminal—a cleaner-up of village rubbish-heaps, desperately timid or + wildly bold, everlastingly hungry, and full of cunning that never did him + any good. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” he said, shaking himself dolefully as he landed. “May the red mange + destroy the dogs of this village! I have three bites for each flea upon + me, and all because I looked—only looked, mark you—at an old + shoe in a cow-byre. Can I eat mud?” He scratched himself under his left + ear. + </p> + <p> + “I heard,” said the Adjutant, in a voice like a blunt saw going through a + thick board—“I HEARD there was a new-born puppy in that same shoe.” + </p> + <p> + “To hear is one thing; to know is another,” said the Jackal, who had a + very fair knowledge of proverbs, picked up by listening to men round the + village fires of an evening. + </p> + <p> + “Quite true. So, to make sure, I took care of that puppy while the dogs + were busy elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “They were VERY busy,” said the Jackal. “Well, I must not go to the + village hunting for scraps yet awhile. And so there truly was a blind + puppy in that shoe?” + </p> + <p> + “It is here,” said the Adjutant, squinting over his beak at his full + pouch. “A small thing, but acceptable now that charity is dead in the + world.” + </p> + <p> + “Ahai! The world is iron in these days,” wailed the Jackal. Then his + restless eye caught the least possible ripple on the water, and he went on + quickly: “Life is hard for us all, and I doubt not that even our excellent + master, the Pride of the Ghaut and the Envy of the River——” + </p> + <p> + “A liar, a flatterer, and a Jackal were all hatched out of the same egg,” + said the Adjutant to nobody in particular; for he was rather a fine sort + of a liar on his own account when he took the trouble. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the Envy of the River,” the Jackal repeated, raising his voice. + “Even he, I doubt not, finds that since the bridge has been built good + food is more scarce. But on the other hand, though I would by no means say + this to his noble face, he is so wise and so virtuous—as I, alas I + am not——” + </p> + <p> + “When the Jackal owns he is gray, how black must the Jackal be!” muttered + the Adjutant. He could not see what was coming. + </p> + <p> + “That his food never fails, and in consequence——” + </p> + <p> + There was a soft grating sound, as though a boat had just touched in shoal + water. The Jackal spun round quickly and faced (it is always best to face) + the creature he had been talking about. It was a twenty-four-foot + crocodile, cased in what looked like treble-riveted boiler-plate, studded + and keeled and crested; the yellow points of his upper teeth just + overhanging his beautifully fluted lower jaw. It was the blunt-nosed + Mugger of Mugger-Ghaut, older than any man in the village, who had given + his name to the village; the demon of the ford before the railway bridge, + came—murderer, man-eater, and local fetish in one. He lay with his + chin in the shallows, keeping his place by an almost invisible rippling of + his tail, and well the Jackal knew that one stroke of that same tail in + the water would carry the Mugger up the bank with the rush of a + steam-engine. + </p> + <p> + “Auspiciously met, Protector of the Poor!” he fawned, backing at every + word. “A delectable voice was heard, and we came in the hopes of sweet + conversation. My tailless presumption, while waiting here, led me, indeed, + to speak of thee. It is my hope that nothing was overheard.” + </p> + <p> + Now the Jackal had spoken just to be listened to, for he knew flattery was + the best way of getting things to eat, and the Mugger knew that the Jackal + had spoken for this end, and the Jackal knew that the Mugger knew, and the + Mugger knew that the Jackal knew that the Mugger knew, and so they were + all very contented together. + </p> + <p> + The old brute pushed and panted and grunted up the bank, mumbling, + “Respect the aged and infirm!” and all the time his little eyes burned + like coals under the heavy, horny eyelids on the top of his triangular + head, as he shoved his bloated barrel-body along between his crutched + legs. Then he settled down, and, accustomed as the Jackal was to his ways, + he could not help starting, for the hundredth time, when he saw how + exactly the Mugger imitated a log adrift on the bar. He had even taken + pains to lie at the exact angle a naturally stranded log would make with + the water, having regard to the current of the season at the time and + place. All this was only a matter of habit, of course, because the Mugger + had come ashore for pleasure; but a crocodile is never quite full, and if + the Jackal had been deceived by the likeness he would not have lived to + philosophise over it. + </p> + <p> + “My child, I heard nothing,” said the Mugger, shutting one eye. “The water + was in my ears, and also I was faint with hunger. Since the railway bridge + was built my people at my village have ceased to love me; and that is + breaking my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, shame!” said the Jackal. “So noble a heart, too! But men are all + alike, to my mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, there are very great differences indeed,” the Mugger answered + gently. “Some are as lean as boat-poles. Others again are fat as young ja—dogs. + Never would I causelessly revile men. They are of all fashions, but the + long years have shown me that, one with another, they are very good. Men, + women, and children—I have no fault to find with them. And remember, + child, he who rebukes the World is rebuked by the World.” + </p> + <p> + “Flattery is worse than an empty tin can in the belly. But that which we + have just heard is wisdom,” said the Adjutant, bringing down one foot. + </p> + <p> + “Consider, though, their ingratitude to this excellent one,” began the + Jackal tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay, not ingratitude!” the Mugger said. “They do not think for + others; that is all. But I have noticed, lying at my station below the + ford, that the stairs of the new bridge are cruelly hard to climb, both + for old people and young children. The old, indeed, are not so worthy of + consideration, but I am grieved—I am truly grieved—on account + of the fat children. Still, I think, in a little while, when the newness + of the bridge has worn away, we shall see my people’s bare brown legs + bravely splashing through the ford as before. Then the old Mugger will be + honoured again.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely I saw Marigold wreaths floating off the edge of the Ghaut only + this noon,” said the Adjutant. + </p> + <p> + Marigold wreaths are a sign of reverence all India over. + </p> + <p> + “An error—an error. It was the wife of the sweetmeat-seller. She + loses her eyesight year by year, and cannot tell a log from me—the + Mugger of the Ghaut. I saw the mistake when she threw the garland, for I + was lying at the very foot of the Ghaut, and had she taken another step I + might have shown her some little difference. Yet she meant well, and we + must consider the spirit of the offering.” + </p> + <p> + “What good are marigold wreaths when one is on the rubbish-heap?” said the + Jackal, hunting for fleas, but keeping one wary eye on his Protector of + the Poor. + </p> + <p> + “True, but they have not yet begun to make the rubbish-heap that shall + carry ME. Five times have I seen the river draw back from the village and + make new land at the foot of the street. Five times have I seen the + village rebuilt on the banks, and I shall see it built yet five times + more. I am no faithless, fish-hunting Gavial, I, at Kasi to-day and Prayag + to-morrow, as the saying is, but the true and constant watcher of the + ford. It is not for nothing, child, that the village bears my name, and + ‘he who watches long,’ as the saying is, ‘shall at last have his reward.’” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> have watched long—very long—nearly all my life, and + my reward has been bites and blows,” said the Jackal. + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho! ho!” roared the Adjutant. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “In August was the Jackal born; + The Rains fell in September; + ‘Now such a fearful flood as this,’ + Says he, ‘I can’t remember!’” + </pre> + <p> + There is one very unpleasant peculiarity about the Adjutant. At uncertain + times he suffers from acute attacks of the fidgets or cramp in his legs, + and though he is more virtuous to behold than any of the cranes, who are + all immensely respectable, he flies off into wild, cripple-stilt + war-dances, half opening his wings and bobbing his bald head up and down; + while for reasons best known to himself he is very careful to time his + worst attacks with his nastiest remarks. At the last word of his song he + came to attention again, ten times adjutaunter than before. + </p> + <p> + The Jackal winced, though he was full three seasons old, but you cannot + resent an insult from a person with a beak a yard long, and the power of + driving it like a javelin. The Adjutant was a most notorious coward, but + the Jackal was worse. + </p> + <p> + “We must live before we can learn,” said the Mugger, “and there is this to + say: Little jackals are very common, child, but such a mugger as I am is + not common. For all that, I am not proud, since pride is destruction; but + take notice, it is Fate, and against his Fate no one who swims or walks or + runs should say anything at all. I am well contented with Fate. With good + luck, a keen eye, and the custom of considering whether a creek or a + backwater has an outlet to it ere you ascend, much may be done.” + </p> + <p> + “Once I heard that even the Protector of the Poor made a mistake,” said + the Jackal viciously. + </p> + <p> + “True; but there my Fate helped me. It was before I had come to my full + growth—before the last famine but three (by the Right and Left of + Gunga, how full used the streams to be in those days!). Yes, I was young + and unthinking, and when the flood came, who so pleased as I? A little + made me very happy then. The village was deep in flood, and I swam above + the Ghaut and went far inland, up to the rice-fields, and they were deep + in good mud. I remember also a pair of bracelets (glass they were, and + troubled me not a little) that I found that evening. Yes, glass bracelets; + and, if my memory serves me well, a shoe. I should have shaken off both + shoes, but I was hungry. I learned better later. Yes. And so I fed and + rested me; but when I was ready to go to the river again the flood had + fallen, and I walked through the mud of the main street. Who but I? Came + out all my people, priests and women and children, and I looked upon them + with benevolence. The mud is not a good place to fight in. Said a boatman, + ‘Get axes and kill him, for he is the Mugger of the ford.’ ‘Not so,’ said + the Brahmin. ‘Look, he is driving the flood before him! He is the godling + of the village.’ Then they threw many flowers at me, and by happy thought + one led a goat across the road.” + </p> + <p> + “How good—how very good is goat!” said the Jackal. + </p> + <p> + “Hairy—too hairy, and when found in the water more than likely to + hide a cross-shaped hook. But that goat I accepted, and went down to the + Ghaut in great honour. Later, my Fate sent me the boatman who had desired + to cut off my tail with an axe. His boat grounded upon an old shoal which + you would not remember.” + </p> + <p> + “We are not ALL jackals here,” said the Adjutant. “Was it the shoal made + where the stone-boats sank in the year of the great drouth—a long + shoal that lasted three floods?” + </p> + <p> + “There were two,” said the Mugger; “an upper and a lower shoal.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, I forgot. A channel divided them, and later dried up again,” said the + Adjutant, who prided himself on his memory. + </p> + <p> + “On the lower shoal my well-wisher’s craft grounded. He was sleeping in + the bows, and, half awake, leaped over to his waist—no, it was no + more than to his knees—to push off. His empty boat went on and + touched again below the next reach, as the river ran then. I followed, + because I knew men would come out to drag it ashore.” + </p> + <p> + “And did they do so?” said the Jackal, a little awe-stricken. This was + hunting on a scale that impressed him. + </p> + <p> + “There and lower down they did. I went no farther, but that gave me three + in one day—well-fed manjis (boatmen) all, and, except in the case of + the last (then I was careless), never a cry to warn those on the bank.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, noble sport! But what cleverness and great judgment it requires!” + said the Jackal. + </p> + <p> + “Not cleverness, child, but only thought. A little thought in life is like + salt upon rice, as the boatmen say, and I have thought deeply always. The + Gavial, my cousin, the fish-eater, has told me how hard it is for him to + follow his fish, and how one fish differs from the other, and how he must + know them all, both together and apart. I say that is wisdom; but, on the + other hand, my cousin, the Gavial, lives among his people. MY people do + not swim in companies, with their mouths out of the water, as Rewa does; + nor do they constantly rise to the surface of the water, and turn over on + their sides, like Mohoo and little Chapta; nor do they gather in shoals + after flood, like Batchua and Chilwa.” + </p> + <p> + “All are very good eating,” said the Adjutant, clattering his beak. + </p> + <p> + “So my cousin says, and makes a great to-do over hunting them, but they do + not climb the banks to escape his sharp nose. MY people are otherwise. + Their life is on the land, in the houses, among the cattle. I must know + what they do, and what they are about to do; and adding the tail to the + trunk, as the saying is, I make up the whole elephant. Is there a green + branch and an iron ring hanging over a doorway? The old Mugger knows that + a boy has been born in that house, and must some day come down to the + Ghaut to play. Is a maiden to be married? The old Mugger knows, for he + sees the men carry gifts back and forth; and she, too, comes down to the + Ghaut to bathe before her wedding, and—he is there. Has the river + changed its channel, and made new land where there was only sand before? + The Mugger knows.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, of what use is that knowledge?” said the Jackal. “The river has + shifted even in my little life.” Indian rivers are nearly always moving + about in their beds, and will shift, sometimes, as much as two or three + miles in a season, drowning the fields on one bank, and spreading good + silt on the other. + </p> + <p> + “There is no knowledge so useful,” said the Mugger, “for new land means + new quarrels. The Mugger knows. Oho! the Mugger knows. As soon as the + water has drained off, he creeps up the little creeks that men think would + not hide a dog, and there he waits. Presently comes a farmer saying he + will plant cucumbers here, and melons there, in the new land that the + river has given him. He feels the good mud with his bare toes. Anon comes + another, saying he will put onions, and carrots, and sugar-cane in such + and such places. They meet as boats adrift meet, and each rolls his eye at + the other under the big blue turban. The old Mugger sees and hears. Each + calls the other ‘Brother,’ and they go to mark out the boundaries of the + new land. The Mugger hurries with them from point to point, shuffling very + low through the mud. Now they begin to quarrel! Now they say hot words! + Now they pull turbans! Now they lift up their lathis (clubs), and, at + last, one falls backward into the mud, and the other runs away. When he + comes back the dispute is settled, as the iron-bound bamboo of the loser + witnesses. Yet they are not grateful to the Mugger. No, they cry ‘Murder!’ + and their families fight with sticks, twenty a-side. My people are good + people—upland Jats—Malwais of the Bet. They do not give blows + for sport, and, when the fight is done, the old Mugger waits far down the + river, out of sight of the village, behind the kikar-scrub yonder. Then + come they down, my broad-shouldered Jats—eight or nine together + under the stars, bearing the dead man upon a bed. They are old men with + gray beards, and voices as deep as mine. They light a little fire—ah! + how well I know that fire!—and they drink tobacco, and they nod + their heads together forward in a ring, or sideways toward the dead man + upon the bank. They say the English Law will come with a rope for this + matter, and that such a man’s family will be ashamed, because such a man + must be hanged in the great square of the Jail. Then say the friends of + the dead, ‘Let him hang!’ and the talk is all to do over again—once, + twice, twenty times in the long night. Then says one, at last, ‘The fight + was a fair fight. Let us take blood-money, a little more than is offered + by the slayer, and we will say no more about it.’ Then do they haggle over + the blood-money, for the dead was a strong man, leaving many sons. Yet + before amratvela (sunrise) they put the fire to him a little, as the + custom is, and the dead man comes to me, and HE says no more about it. + Aha! my children, the Mugger knows—the Mugger knows—and my + Malwah Jats are a good people!” + </p> + <p> + “They are too close—too narrow in the hand for my crop,” croaked the + Adjutant. “They waste not the polish on the cow’s horn, as the saying is; + and, again, who can glean after a Malwai?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I—glean—THEM,” said the Mugger. + </p> + <p> + “Now, in Calcutta of the South, in the old days,” the Adjutant went on, + “everything was thrown into the streets, and we picked and chose. Those + wore dainty seasons. But to-day they keep their streets as clean as the + outside of an egg, and my people fly away. To be clean is one thing; to + dust, sweep, and sprinkle seven times a day wearies the very Gods + themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “There was a down-country jackal had it from a brother, who told me, that + in Calcutta of the South all the jackals were as fat as otters in the + Rains,” said the Jackal, his mouth watering at the bare thought of it. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but the white-faces are there—the English, and they bring dogs + from somewhere down the river in boats—big fat dogs—to keep + those same jackals lean,” said the Adjutant. + </p> + <p> + “They are, then, as hard-hearted as these people? I might have known. + Neither earth, sky, nor water shows charity to a jackal. I saw the tents + of a white-face last season, after the Rains, and I also took a new yellow + bridle to eat. The white-faces do not dress their leather in the proper + way. It made me very sick.” + </p> + <p> + “That was better than my case,” said the Adjutant. “When I was in my third + season, a young and a bold bird, I went down to the river where the big + boats come in. The boats of the English are thrice as big as this + village.” + </p> + <p> + “He has been as far as Delhi, and says all the people there walk on their + heads,” muttered the Jackal. The Mugger opened his left eye, and looked + keenly at the Adjutant. + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” the big bird insisted. “A liar only lies when he hopes to be + believed. No one who had not seen those boats COULD believe this truth.” + </p> + <p> + “THAT is more reasonable,” said the Mugger. “And then?” + </p> + <p> + “From the insides of this boat they were taking out great pieces of white + stuff, which, in a little while, turned to water. Much split off, and fell + about on the shore, and the rest they swiftly put into a house with thick + walls. But a boatman, who laughed, took a piece no larger than a small + dog, and threw it to me. I—all my people—swallow without + reflection, and that piece I swallowed as is our custom. Immediately I was + afflicted with an excessive cold which, beginning in my crop, ran down to + the extreme end of my toes, and deprived me even of speech, while the + boatmen laughed at me. Never have I felt such cold. I danced in my grief + and amazement till I could recover my breath and then I danced and cried + out against the falseness of this world; and the boatmen derided me till + they fell down. The chief wonder of the matter, setting aside that + marvellous coldness, was that there was nothing at all in my crop when I + had finished my lamentings!” + </p> + <p> + The Adjutant had done his very best to describe his feelings after + swallowing a seven-pound lump of Wenham Lake ice, off an American + ice-ship, in the days before Calcutta made her ice by machinery; but as he + did not know what ice was, and as the Mugger and the Jackal knew rather + less, the tale missed fire. + </p> + <p> + “Anything,” said the Mugger, shutting his left eye again—“ANYTHING + is possible that comes out of a boat thrice the size of Mugger-Ghaut. My + village is not a small one.” + </p> + <p> + There was a whistle overhead on the bridge, and the Delhi Mail slid + across, all the carriages gleaming with light, and the shadows faithfully + following along the river. It clanked away into the dark again; but the + Mugger and the Jackal were so well used to it that they never turned their + heads. + </p> + <p> + “Is that anything less wonderful than a boat thrice the size of + Mugger-Ghaut?” said the bird, looking up. + </p> + <p> + “I saw that built, child. Stone by stone I saw the bridge-piers rise, and + when the men fell off (they were wondrous sure-footed for the most part—but + WHEN they fell) I was ready. After the first pier was made they never + thought to look down the stream for the body to burn. There, again, I + saved much trouble. There was nothing strange in the building of the + bridge,” said the Mugger. + </p> + <p> + “But that which goes across, pulling the roofed carts! That is strange,” + the Adjutant repeated. “It is, past any doubt, a new breed of bullock. + Some day it will not be able to keep its foothold up yonder, and will fall + as the men did. The old Mugger will then be ready.” + </p> + <p> + The Jackal looked at the Adjutant and the Adjutant looked at the Jackal. + If there was one thing they were more certain of than another, it was that + the engine was everything in the wide world except a bullock. The Jackal + had watched it time and again from the aloe hedges by the side of the + line, and the Adjutant had seen engines since the first locomotive ran in + India. But the Mugger had only looked up at the thing from below, where + the brass dome seemed rather like a bullock’s hump. + </p> + <p> + “M—yes, a new kind of bullock,” the Mugger repeated ponderously, to + make himself quite sure in his own mind; and “Certainly it is a bullock,” + said the Jackal. + </p> + <p> + “And again it might be——” began the Mugger pettishly. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly—most certainly,” said the Jackal, without waiting for the + other to finish. + </p> + <p> + “What?” said the Mugger angrily, for he could feel that the others knew + more than he did. “What might it be? <i>I</i> never finished my words. You + said it was a bullock.” + </p> + <p> + “It is anything the Protector of the Poor pleases. I am HIS servant—not + the servant of the thing that crosses the river.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever it is, it is white-face work,” said the Adjutant; “and for my + own part, I would not lie out upon a place so near to it as this bar.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not know the English as I do,” said the Mugger. “There was a + white-face here when the bridge was built, and he would take a boat in the + evenings and shuffle with his feet on the bottom-boards, and whisper: ‘Is + he here? Is he there? Bring me my gun.’ I could hear him before I could + see him—each sound that he made—creaking and puffing and + rattling his gun, up and down the river. As surely as I had picked up one + of his workmen, and thus saved great expense in wood for the burning, so + surely would he come down to the Ghaut, and shout in a loud voice that he + would hunt me, and rid the river of me—the Mugger of Mugger-Ghaut! + ME! Children, I have swum under the bottom of his boat for hour after + hour, and heard him fire his gun at logs; and when I was well sure he was + wearied, I have risen by his side and snapped my jaws in his face. When + the bridge was finished he went away. All the English hunt in that + fashion, except when they are hunted.” + </p> + <p> + “Who hunts the white-faces?” yapped the Jackal excitedly. + </p> + <p> + “No one now, but I have hunted them in my time.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember a little of that Hunting. I was young then,” said the + Adjutant, clattering his beak significantly. + </p> + <p> + “I was well established here. My village was being builded for the third + time, as I remember, when my cousin, the Gavial, brought me word of rich + waters above Benares. At first I would not go, for my cousin, who is a + fish-eater, does not always know the good from the bad; but I heard my + people talking in the evenings, and what they said made me certain.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did they say?” the Jackal asked. + </p> + <p> + “They said enough to make me, the Mugger of Mugger-Ghaut, leave water and + take to my feet. I went by night, using the littlest streams as they + served me; but it was the beginning of the hot weather, and all streams + were low. I crossed dusty roads; I went through tall grass; I climbed + hills in the moonlight. Even rocks did I climb, children—consider + this well. I crossed the tail of Sirhind, the waterless, before I could + find the set of the little rivers that flow Gungaward. I was a month’s + journey from my own people and the river that I knew. That was very + marvellous!” + </p> + <p> + “What food on the way?” said the Jackal, who kept his soul in his little + stomach, and was not a bit impressed by the Mugger’s land travels. + </p> + <p> + “That which I could find—COUSIN,” said the Mugger slowly, dragging + each word. + </p> + <p> + Now you do not call a man a cousin in India unless you think you can + establish some kind of blood-relationship, and as it is only in old + fairy-tales that the Mugger ever marries a jackal, the Jackal knew for + what reason he had been suddenly lifted into the Mugger’s family circle. + If they had been alone he would not have cared, but the Adjutant’s eyes + twinkled with mirth at the ugly jest. + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly, Father, I might have known,” said the Jackal. A mugger does + not care to be called a father of jackals, and the Mugger of Mugger-Ghaut + said as much—and a great deal more which there is no use in + repeating here. + </p> + <p> + “The Protector of the Poor has claimed kinship. How can I remember the + precise degree? Moreover, we eat the same food. He has said it,” was the + Jackal’s reply. + </p> + <p> + That made matters rather worse, for what the Jackal hinted at was that the + Mugger must have eaten his food on that land-march fresh and fresh every + day, instead of keeping it by him till it was in a fit and proper + condition, as every self-respecting mugger and most wild beasts do when + they can. Indeed, one of the worst terms of contempt along the River-bed + is “eater of fresh meat.” It is nearly as bad as calling a man a cannibal. + </p> + <p> + “That food was eaten thirty seasons ago,” said the Adjutant quietly. “If + we talk for thirty seasons more it will never come back. Tell us, now, + what happened when the good waters were reached after thy most wonderful + land journey. If we listened to the howling of every jackal the business + of the town would stop, as the saying is.” + </p> + <p> + The Mugger must have been grateful for the interruption, because he went + on, with a rush: + </p> + <p> + “By the Right and Left of Gunga! when I came there never did I see such + waters!” + </p> + <p> + “Were they better, then, than the big flood of last season?” said the + Jackal. + </p> + <p> + “Better! That flood was no more than comes every five years—a + handful of drowned strangers, some chickens, and a dead bullock in muddy + water with cross-currents. But the season I think of, the river was low, + smooth, and even, and, as the Gavial had warned me, the dead English came + down, touching each other. I got my girth in that season—my girth + and my depth. From Agra, by Etawah and the broad waters by Allahabad——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the eddy that set under the walls of the fort at Allahabad!” said the + Adjutant. “They came in there like widgeon to the reeds, and round and + round they swung—thus!” + </p> + <p> + He went off into his horrible dance again, while the Jackal looked on + enviously. He naturally could not remember the terrible year of the Mutiny + they were talking about. The Mugger continued: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, by Allahabad one lay still in the slack-water and let twenty go by + to pick one; and, above all, the English were not cumbered with jewellery + and nose-rings and anklets as my women are nowadays. To delight in + ornaments is to end with a rope for a necklace, as the saying is. All the + muggers of all the rivers grew fat then, but it was my Fate to be fatter + than them all. The news was that the English were being hunted into the + rivers, and by the Right and Left of Gunga! we believed it was true. So + far as I went south I believed it to be true; and I went down-stream + beyond Monghyr and the tombs that look over the river.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that place,” said the Adjutant. “Since those days Monghyr is a + lost city. Very few live there now.” + </p> + <p> + “Thereafter I worked up-stream very slowly and lazily, and a little above + Monghyr there came down a boatful of white-faces—alive! They were, + as I remember, women, lying under a cloth spread over sticks, and crying + aloud. There was never a gun fired at us, the watchers of the fords in + those days. All the guns were busy elsewhere. We could hear them day and + night inland, coming and going as the wind shifted. I rose up full before + the boat, because I had never seen white-faces alive, though I knew them + well—otherwise. A naked white child kneeled by the side of the boat, + and, stooping over, must needs try to trail his hands in the river. It is + a pretty thing to see how a child loves running water. I had fed that day, + but there was yet a little unfilled space within me. Still, it was for + sport and not for food that I rose at the child’s hands. They were so + clear a mark that I did not even look when I closed; but they were so + small that though my jaws rang true—I am sure of that—the + child drew them up swiftly, unhurt. They must have passed between tooth + and tooth—those small white hands. I should have caught him + cross-wise at the elbows; but, as I said, it was only for sport and desire + to see new things that I rose at all. They cried out one after another in + the boat, and presently I rose again to watch them. The boat was too heavy + to push over. They were only women, but he who trusts a woman will walk on + duckweed in a pool, as the saying is: and by the Right and Left of Gunga, + that is truth!” + </p> + <p> + “Once a woman gave me some dried skin from a fish,” said the Jackal. “I + had hoped to get her baby, but horse-food is better than the kick of a + horse, as the saying is. What did thy woman do?” + </p> + <p> + “She fired at me with a short gun of a kind I have never seen before or + since. Five times, one after another” (the Mugger must have met with an + old-fashioned revolver); “and I stayed open-mouthed and gaping, my head in + the smoke. Never did I see such a thing. Five times, as swiftly as I wave + my tail—thus!” + </p> + <p> + The Jackal, who had been growing more and more interested in the story, + had just time to leap back as the huge tail swung by like a scythe. + </p> + <p> + “Not before the fifth shot,” said the Mugger, as though he had never + dreamed of stunning one of his listeners—“not before the fifth shot + did I sink, and I rose in time to hear a boatman telling all those white + women that I was most certainly dead. One bullet had gone under a + neck-plate of mine. I know not if it is there still, for the reason I + cannot turn my head. Look and see, child. It will show that my tale is + true.” + </p> + <p> + “I?” said the Jackal. “Shall an eater of old shoes, a bone-cracker, + presume, to doubt the word of the Envy of the River? May my tail be bitten + off by blind puppies if the shadow of such a thought has crossed my humble + mind! The Protector of the Poor has condescended to inform me, his slave, + that once in his life he has been wounded by a woman. That is sufficient, + and I will tell the tale to all my children, asking for no proof.” + </p> + <p> + “Over-much civility is sometimes no better than over-much discourtesy, + for, as the saying is, one can choke a guest with curds. I do NOT desire + that any children of thine should know that the Mugger of Mugger-Ghaut + took his only wound from a woman. They will have much else to think of if + they get their meat as miserably as does their father.” + </p> + <p> + “It is forgotten long ago! It was never said! There never was a white + woman! There was no boat! Nothing whatever happened at all.” + </p> + <p> + The Jackal waved his brush to show how completely everything was wiped out + of his memory, and sat down with an air. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, very many things happened,” said the Mugger, beaten in his second + attempt that night to get the better of his friend. (Neither bore malice, + however. Eat and be eaten was fair law along the river, and the Jackal + came in for his share of plunder when the Mugger had finished a meal.) “I + left that boat and went up-stream, and, when I had reached Arrah and the + back-waters behind it, there were no more dead English. The river was + empty for a while. Then came one or two dead, in red coats, not English, + but of one kind all—Hindus and Purbeeahs—then five and six + abreast, and at last, from Arrah to the North beyond Agra, it was as + though whole villages had walked into the water. They came out of little + creeks one after another, as the logs come down in the Rains. When the + river rose they rose also in companies from the shoals they had rested + upon; and the falling flood dragged them with it across the fields and + through the Jungle by the long hair. All night, too, going North, I heard + the guns, and by day the shod feet of men crossing fords, and that noise + which a heavy cart-wheel makes on sand under water; and every ripple + brought more dead. At last even I was afraid, for I said: ‘If this thing + happen to men, how shall the Mugger of Mugger-Ghaut escape?’ There were + boats, too, that came up behind me without sails, burning continually, as + the cotton-boats sometimes burn, but never sinking.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said the Adjutant. “Boats like those come to Calcutta of the South. + They are tall and black, they beat up the water behind them with a tail, + and they——” + </p> + <p> + “Are thrice as big as my village. MY boats were low and white; they beat + up the water on either side of them and were no larger than the boats of + one who speaks truth should be. They made me very afraid, and I left water + and went back to this my river, hiding by day and walking by night, when I + could not find little streams to help me. I came to my village again, but + I did not hope to see any of my people there. Yet they were ploughing and + sowing and reaping, and going to and fro in their fields, as quietly as + their own cattle.” + </p> + <p> + “Was there still good food in the river?” said the Jackal. + </p> + <p> + “More than I had any desire for. Even I—and I do not eat mud—even + I was tired, and, as I remember, a little frightened of this constant + coming down of the silent ones. I heard my people say in my village that + all the English were dead; but those that came, face down, with the + current were NOT English, as my people saw. Then my people said that it + was best to say nothing at all, but to pay the tax and plough the land. + After a long time the river cleared, and those that came down it had been + clearly drowned by the floods, as I could well see; and though it was not + so easy then to get food, I was heartily glad of it. A little killing here + and there is no bad thing—but even the Mugger is sometimes + satisfied, as the saying is.” + </p> + <p> + “Marvellous! Most truly marvellous!” said the Jackal. “I am become fat + through merely hearing about so much good eating. And afterward what, if + it be permitted to ask, did the Protector of the Poor do?” + </p> + <p> + “I said to myself—and by the Right and Left of Gunga! I locked my + jaws on that vow—I said I would never go roving any more. So I lived + by the Ghaut, very close to my own people, and I watched over them year + after year; and they loved me so much that they threw marigold wreaths at + my head whenever they saw it lift. Yes, and my Fate has been very kind to + me, and the river is good enough to respect my poor and infirm presence; + only——” + </p> + <p> + “No one is all happy from his beak to his tail,” said the Adjutant + sympathetically. “What does the Mugger of Mugger-Ghaut need more?” + </p> + <p> + “That little white child which I did not get,” said the Mugger, with a + deep sigh. “He was very small, but I have not forgotten. I am old now, but + before I die it is my desire to try one new thing. It is true they are a + heavy-footed, noisy, and foolish people, and the sport would be small, but + I remember the old days above Benares, and, if the child lives, he will + remember still. It may be he goes up and down the bank of some river, + telling how he once passed his hands between the teeth of the Mugger of + Mugger-Ghaut, and lived to make a tale of it. My Fate has been very kind, + but that plagues me sometimes in my dreams—the thought of the little + white child in the bows of that boat.” He yawned, and closed his jaws. + “And now I will rest and think. Keep silent, my children, and respect the + aged.” + </p> + <p> + He turned stiffly, and shuffled to the top of the sand-bar, while the + Jackal drew back with the Adjutant to the shelter of a tree stranded on + the end nearest the railway bridge. + </p> + <p> + “That was a pleasant and profitable life,” he grinned, looking up + inquiringly at the bird who towered above him. “And not once, mark you, + did he think fit to tell me where a morsel might have been left along the + banks. Yet I have told HIM a hundred times of good things wallowing + down-stream. How true is the saying, ‘All the world forgets the Jackal and + the Barber when the news has been told!’ Now he is going to sleep! Arrh!” + </p> + <p> + “How can a jackal hunt with a Mugger?” said the Adjutant coolly. “Big + thief and little thief; it is easy to say who gets the pickings.” + </p> + <p> + The Jackal turned, whining impatiently, and was going to curl himself up + under the tree-trunk, when suddenly he cowered, and looked up through the + draggled branches at the bridge almost above his head. + </p> + <p> + “What now?” said the Adjutant, opening his wings uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “Wait till we see. The wind blows from us to them, but they are not + looking for us—those two men.” + </p> + <p> + “Men, is it? My office protects me. All India knows I am holy.” The + Adjutant, being a first-class scavenger, is allowed to go where he + pleases, and so this one never flinched. + </p> + <p> + “I am not worth a blow from anything better than an old shoe,” said the + Jackal, and listened again. “Hark to that footfall!” he went on. “That was + no country leather, but the shod foot of a white-face. Listen again! Iron + hits iron up there! It is a gun! Friend, those heavy-footed, foolish + English are coming to speak with the Mugger.” + </p> + <p> + “Warn him, then. He was called Protector of the Poor by some one not + unlike a starving Jackal but a little time ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Let my cousin protect his own hide. He has told me again and again there + is nothing to fear from the white-faces. They must be white-faces. Not a + villager of Mugger-Ghaut would dare to come after him. See, I said it was + a gun! Now, with good luck, we shall feed before daylight. He cannot hear + well out of water, and—this time it is not a woman!” + </p> + <p> + A shiny barrel glittered for a minute in the moonlight on the girders. The + Mugger was lying on the sand-bar as still as his own shadow, his fore-feet + spread out a little, his head dropped between them, snoring like a—mugger. + </p> + <p> + A voice on the bridge whispered: “It’s an odd shot—straight down + almost—but as safe as houses. Better try behind the neck. Golly! + what a brute! The villagers will be wild if he’s shot, though. He’s the + deota [godling] of these parts.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t care a rap,” another voice answered; “he took about fifteen of my + best coolies while the bridge was building, and it’s time he was put a + stop to. I’ve been after him in a boat for weeks. Stand by with the + Martini as soon as I’ve given him both barrels of this.” + </p> + <p> + “Mind the kick, then. A double four-bore’s no joke.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s for him to decide. Here goes!” + </p> + <p> + There was a roar like the sound of a small cannon (the biggest sort of + elephant-rifle is not very different from some artillery), and a double + streak of flame, followed by the stinging crack of a Martini, whose long + bullet makes nothing of a crocodile’s plates. But the explosive bullets + did the work. One of them struck just behind the Mugger’s neck, a + hand’s-breadth to the left of the backbone, while the other burst a little + lower down, at the beginning of the tail. In ninety-nine cases out of a + hundred a mortally-wounded crocodile can scramble to deep water and get + away; but the Mugger of Mugger-Ghaut was literally broken into three + pieces. He hardly moved his head before the life went out of him, and he + lay as flat as the Jackal. + </p> + <p> + “Thunder and lightning! Lightning and thunder!” said that miserable little + beast. “Has the thing that pulls the covered carts over the bridge tumbled + at last?” + </p> + <p> + “It is no more than a gun,” said the Adjutant, though his very + tail-feathers quivered. “Nothing more than a gun. He is certainly dead. + Here come the white-faces.” + </p> + <p> + The two Englishmen had hurried down from the bridge and across to the + sand-bar, where they stood admiring the length of the Mugger. Then a + native with an axe cut off the big head, and four men dragged it across + the spit. + </p> + <p> + “The last time that I had my hand in a Mugger’s mouth,” said one of the + Englishmen, stooping down (he was the man who had built the bridge), “it + was when I was about five years old—coming down the river by boat to + Monghyr. I was a Mutiny baby, as they call it. Poor mother was in the + boat, too, and she often told me how she fired dad’s old pistol at the + beast’s head.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you’ve certainly had your revenge on the chief of the clan—even + if the gun has made your nose bleed. Hi, you boatmen! Haul that head up + the bank, and we’ll boil it for the skull. The skin’s too knocked about to + keep. Come along to bed now. This was worth sitting up all night for, + wasn’t it?” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Curiously enough, the Jackal and the Adjutant made the very same remark + not three minutes after the men had left. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A RIPPLE SONG + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Once a ripple came to land + In the golden sunset burning— + Lapped against a maiden’s hand, + By the ford returning. + + Dainty foot and gentle breast— + Here, across, be glad and rest. + “Maiden, wait,” the ripple saith. + “Wait awhile, for I am Death!” + + “Where my lover calls I go— + Shame it were to treat him coldly— + ‘Twas a fish that circled so, + Turning over boldly.” + + Dainty foot and tender heart, + Wait the loaded ferry-cart. + “Wait, ah, wait!” the ripple saith; + “Maiden, wait, for I am Death!” + + “When my lover calls I haste— + Dame Disdain was never wedded!” + Ripple-ripple round her waist, + Clear the current eddied. + + Foolish heart and faithful hand, + Little feet that touched no land. + Far away the ripple sped, + Ripple—ripple—running red! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE KING’S ANKUS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + These are the Four that are never content, that have never + been filled since the Dews began— + Jacala’s mouth, and the glut of the Kite, and the hands of the + Ape, and the Eyes of Man. + Jungle Saying. +</pre> + <p> + Kaa, the big Rock Python, had changed his skin for perhaps the + two-hundredth time since his birth; and Mowgli, who never forgot that he + owed his life to Kaa for a night’s work at Cold Lairs, which you may + perhaps remember, went to congratulate him. Skin-changing always makes a + snake moody and depressed till the new skin begins to shine and look + beautiful. Kaa never made fun of Mowgli any more, but accepted him, as the + other Jungle People did, for the Master of the Jungle, and brought him all + the news that a python of his size would naturally hear. What Kaa did not + know about the Middle Jungle, as they call it,—the life that runs + close to the earth or under it, the boulder, burrow, and the tree-bole + life,—might have been written upon the smallest of his scales. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon Mowgli was sitting in the circle of Kaa’s great coils, + fingering the flaked and broken old skin that lay all looped and twisted + among the rocks just as Kaa had left it. Kaa had very courteously packed + himself under Mowgli’s broad, bare shoulders, so that the boy was really + resting in a living arm-chair. + </p> + <p> + “Even to the scales of the eyes it is perfect,” said Mowgli, under his + breath, playing with the old skin. “Strange to see the covering of one’s + own head at one’s own feet!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but I lack feet,” said Kaa; “and since this is the custom of all my + people, I do not find it strange. Does thy skin never feel old and harsh?” + </p> + <p> + “Then go I and wash, Flathead; but, it is true, in the great heats I have + wished I could slough my skin without pain, and run skinless.” + </p> + <p> + “I wash, and ALSO I take off my skin. How looks the new coat?” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli ran his hand down the diagonal checkerings of the immense back. + “The Turtle is harder-backed, but not so gay,” he said judgmatically. “The + Frog, my name-bearer, is more gay, but not so hard. It is very beautiful + to see—like the mottling in the mouth of a lily.” + </p> + <p> + “It needs water. A new skin never comes to full colour before the first + bath. Let us go bathe.” + </p> + <p> + “I will carry thee,” said Mowgli; and he stooped down, laughing, to lift + the middle section of Kaa’s great body, just where the barrel was + thickest. A man might just, as well have tried to heave up a two-foot + water-main; and Kaa lay still, puffing with quiet amusement. Then the + regular evening game began—the Boy in the flush of his great + strength, and the Python in his sumptuous new skin, standing up one + against the other for a wrestling match—a trial of eye and strength. + Of course, Kaa could have crushed a dozen Mowglis if he had let himself + go; but he played carefully, and never loosed one-tenth of his power. Ever + since Mowgli was strong enough to endure a little rough handling, Kaa had + taught him this game, and it suppled his limbs as nothing else could. + Sometimes Mowgli would stand lapped almost to his throat in Kaa’s shifting + coils, striving to get one arm free and catch him by the throat. Then Kaa + would give way limply, and Mowgli, with both quick-moving feet, would try + to cramp the purchase of that huge tail as it flung backward feeling for a + rock or a stump. They would rock to and fro, head to head, each waiting + for his chance, till the beautiful, statue-like group melted in a whirl of + black-and-yellow coils and struggling legs and arms, to rise up again and + again. “Now! now! now!” said Kaa, making feints with his head that even + Mowgli’s quick hand could not turn aside. “Look! I touch thee here, Little + Brother! Here, and here! Are thy hands numb? Here again!” + </p> + <p> + The game always ended in one way—with a straight, driving blow of + the head that knocked the boy over and over. Mowgli could never learn the + guard for that lightning lunge, and, as Kaa said, there was not the least + use in trying. + </p> + <p> + “Good hunting!” Kaa grunted at last; and Mowgli, as usual, was shot away + half a dozen yards, gasping and laughing. He rose with his fingers full of + grass, and followed Kaa to the wise snake’s pet bathing-place—a + deep, pitchy-black pool surrounded with rocks, and made interesting by + sunken tree-stumps. The boy slipped in, Jungle-fashion, without a sound, + and dived across; rose, too, without a sound, and turned on his back, his + arms behind his head, watching the moon rising above the rocks, and + breaking up her reflection in the water with his toes. Kaa’s + diamond-shaped head cut the pool like a razor, and came out to rest on + Mowgli’s shoulder. They lay still, soaking luxuriously in the cool water. + </p> + <p> + “It is VERY good,” said Mowgli at last, sleepily. “Now, in the Man-Pack, + at this hour, as I remember, they laid them down upon hard pieces of wood + in the inside of a mud-trap, and, having carefully shut out all the clean + winds, drew foul cloth over their heavy heads and made evil songs through + their noses. It is better in the Jungle.” + </p> + <p> + A hurrying cobra slipped down over a rock and drank, gave them “Good + hunting!” and went away. + </p> + <p> + “Sssh!” said Kaa, as though he had suddenly remembered something. “So the + Jungle gives thee all that thou hast ever desired, Little Brother?” + </p> + <p> + “Not all,” said Mowgli, laughing; “else there would be a new and strong + Shere Khan to kill once a moon. Now, I could kill with my own hands, + asking no help of buffaloes. And also I have wished the sun to shine in + the middle of the Rains, and the Rains to cover the sun in the deep of + summer; and also I have never gone empty but I wished that I had killed a + goat; and also I have never killed a goat but I wished it had been buck; + nor buck but I wished it had been nilghai. But thus do we feel, all of + us.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou hast no other desire?” the big snake demanded. + </p> + <p> + “What more can I wish? I have the Jungle, and the favour of the Jungle! Is + there more anywhere between sunrise and sunset?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, the Cobra said——” Kaa began. “What cobra? He that went + away just now said nothing. He was hunting.” + </p> + <p> + “It was another.” + </p> + <p> + “Hast thou many dealings with the Poison People? I give them their own + path. They carry death in the fore-tooth, and that is not good—for + they are so small. But what hood is this thou hast spoken with?” + </p> + <p> + Kaa rolled slowly in the water like a steamer in a beam sea. “Three or + four moons since,” said he, “I hunted in Cold Lairs, which place thou hast + not forgotten. And the thing I hunted fled shrieking past the tanks and to + that house whose side I once broke for thy sake, and ran into the ground.” + </p> + <p> + “But the people of Cold Lairs do not live in burrows.” Mowgli knew that + Kaa was telling of the Monkey People. + </p> + <p> + “This thing was not living, but seeking to live,” Kaa replied, with a + quiver of his tongue. “He ran into a burrow that led very far. I followed, + and having killed, I slept. When I waked I went forward.” + </p> + <p> + “Under the earth?” + </p> + <p> + “Even so, coming at last upon a White Hood [a white cobra], who spoke of + things beyond my knowledge, and showed me many things I had never before + seen.” + </p> + <p> + “New game? Was it good hunting?” Mowgli turned quickly on his side. + </p> + <p> + “It was no game, and would have broken all my teeth; but the White Hood + said that a man—he spoke as one that knew the breed—that a man + would give the breath under his ribs for only the sight of those things.” + </p> + <p> + “We will look,” said Mowgli. “I now remember that I was once a man.” + </p> + <p> + “Slowly—slowly. It was haste killed the Yellow Snake that ate the + sun. We two spoke together under the earth, and I spoke of thee, naming + thee as a man. Said the White Hood (and he is indeed as old as the + Jungle): ‘It is long since I have seen a man. Let him come, and he shall + see all these things, for the least of which very many men would die.’” + </p> + <p> + “That MUST be new game. And yet the Poison People do not tell us when game + is afoot. They are an unfriendly folk.” + </p> + <p> + “It is NOT game. It is—it is—I cannot say what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “We will go there. I have never seen a White Hood, and I wish to see the + other things. Did he kill them?” + </p> + <p> + “They are all dead things. He says he is the keeper of them all.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! As a wolf stands above meat he has taken to his own lair. Let us go.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli swam to bank, rolled on the grass to dry himself, and the two set + off for Cold Lairs, the deserted city of which you may have heard. Mowgli + was not the least afraid of the Monkey People in those days, but the + Monkey People had the liveliest horror of Mowgli. Their tribes, however, + were raiding in the Jungle, and so Cold Lairs stood empty and silent in + the moonlight. Kaa led up to the ruins of the queens’ pavilion that stood + on the terrace, slipped over the rubbish, and dived down the half-choked + staircase that went underground from the centre of the pavilion. Mowgli + gave the snake-call,—“We be of one blood, ye and I,”—and + followed on his hands and knees. They crawled a long distance down a + sloping passage that turned and twisted several times, and at last came to + where the root of some great tree, growing thirty feet overhead, had + forced out a solid stone in the wall. They crept through the gap, and + found themselves in a large vault, whose domed roof had been also broken + away by tree-roots so that a few streaks of light dropped down into the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + “A safe lair,” said Mowgli, rising to his firm feet, “but over-far to + visit daily. And now what do we see?” + </p> + <p> + “Am I nothing?” said a voice in the middle of the vault; and Mowgli saw + something white move till, little by little, there stood up the hugest + cobra he had ever set eyes on—a creature nearly eight feet long, and + bleached by being in darkness to an old ivory-white. Even the + spectacle-marks of his spread hood had faded to faint yellow. His eyes + were as red as rubies, and altogether he was most wonderful. + </p> + <p> + “Good hunting!” said Mowgli, who carried his manners with his knife, and + that never left him. + </p> + <p> + “What of the city?” said the White Cobra, without answering the greeting. + “What of the great, the walled city—the city of a hundred elephants + and twenty thousand horses, and cattle past counting—the city of the + King of Twenty Kings? I grow deaf here, and it is long since I heard their + war-gongs.” + </p> + <p> + “The Jungle is above our heads,” said Mowgli. “I know only Hathi and his + sons among elephants. Bagheera has slain all the horses in one village, + and—what is a King?” + </p> + <p> + “I told thee,” said Kaa softly to the Cobra,—“I told thee, four + moons ago, that thy city was not.” + </p> + <p> + “The city—the great city of the forest whose gates are guarded by + the King’s towers—can never pass. They builded it before my father’s + father came from the egg, and it shall endure when my son’s sons are as + white as I! Salomdhi, son of Chandrabija, son of Viyeja, son of Yegasuri, + made it in the days of Bappa Rawal. Whose cattle are YE?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a lost trail,” said Mowgli, turning to Kaa. “I know not his talk.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I. He is very old. Father of Cobras, there is only the Jungle here, + as it has been since the beginning.” + </p> + <p> + “Then who is HE,” said the White Cobra, “sitting down before me, unafraid, + knowing not the name of the King, talking our talk through a man’s lips? + Who is he with the knife and the snake’s tongue?” + </p> + <p> + “Mowgli they call me,” was the answer. “I am of the Jungle. The wolves are + my people, and Kaa here is my brother. Father of Cobras, who art thou?” + </p> + <p> + “I am the Warden of the King’s Treasure. Kurrun Raja builded the stone + above me, in the days when my skin was dark, that I might teach death to + those who came to steal. Then they let down the treasure through the + stone, and I heard the song of the Brahmins my masters.” + </p> + <p> + “Umm!” said Mowgli to himself. “I have dealt with one Brahmin already, in + the Man-Pack, and—I know what I know. Evil comes here in a little.” + </p> + <p> + “Five times since I came here has the stone been lifted, but always to let + down more, and never to take away. There are no riches like these riches—the + treasures of a hundred kings. But it is long and long since the stone was + last moved, and I think that my city has forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no city. Look up. Yonder are roots of the great trees tearing + the stones apart. Trees and men do not grow together,” Kaa insisted. + </p> + <p> + “Twice and thrice have men found their way here,” the White Cobra answered + savagely; “but they never spoke till I came upon them groping in the dark, + and then they cried only a little time. But ye come with lies, Man and + Snake both, and would have me believe the city is not, and that my + wardship ends. Little do men change in the years. But I change never! Till + the stone is lifted, and the Brahmins come down singing the songs that I + know, and feed me with warm milk, and take me to the light again, I—I—<i>I</i>, + and no other, am the Warden of the King’s Treasure! The city is dead, ye + say, and here are the roots of the trees? Stoop down, then, and take what + ye will. Earth has no treasure like to these. Man with the snake’s tongue, + if thou canst go alive by the way that thou hast entered it, the lesser + Kings will be thy servants!” + </p> + <p> + “Again the trail is lost,” said Mowgli coolly. “Can any jackal have + burrowed so deep and bitten this great White Hood? He is surely mad. + Father of Cobras, I see nothing here to take away.” + </p> + <p> + “By the Gods of the Sun and Moon, it is the madness of death upon the + boy!” hissed the Cobra. “Before thine eyes close I will allow thee this + favour. Look thou, and see what man has never seen before!” + </p> + <p> + “They do not well in the Jungle who speak to Mowgli of favours,” said the + boy, between his teeth; “but the dark changes all, as I know. I will look, + if that please thee.” + </p> + <p> + He stared with puckered-up eyes round the vault, and then lifted up from + the floor a handful of something that glittered. + </p> + <p> + “Oho!” said he, “this is like the stuff they play with in the Man-Pack: + only this is yellow and the other was brown.” + </p> + <p> + He let the gold pieces fall, and move forward. The floor of the vault was + buried some five or six feet deep in coined gold and silver that had burst + from the sacks it had been originally stored in, and, in the long years, + the metal had packed and settled as sand packs at low tide. On it and in + it and rising through it, as wrecks lift through the sand, were jewelled + elephant-howdahs of embossed silver, studded with plates of hammered gold, + and adorned with carbuncles and turquoises. There were palanquins and + litters for carrying queens, framed and braced with silver and enamel, + with jade-handled poles and amber curtain-rings; there were golden + candlesticks hung with pierced emeralds that quivered on the branches; + there were studded images, five feet high, of forgotten gods, silver with + jewelled eyes; there were coats of mail, gold inlaid on steel, and fringed + with rotted and blackened seed-pearls; there were helmets, crested and + beaded with pigeon’s-blood rubies; there were shields of lacquer, of + tortoise-shell and rhinoceros-hide, strapped and bossed with red gold and + set with emeralds at the edge; there were sheaves of diamond-hilted + swords, daggers, and hunting-knives; there were golden sacrificial bowls + and ladles, and portable altars of a shape that never sees the light of + day; there were jade cups and bracelets; there were incense-burners, + combs, and pots for perfume, henna, and eye-powder, all in embossed gold; + there were nose-rings, armlets, head-bands, finger-rings, and girdles past + any counting; there were belts, seven fingers broad, of square-cut + diamonds and rubies, and wooden boxes, trebly clamped with iron, from + which the wood had fallen away in powder, showing the pile of uncut + star-sapphires, opals, cat’s-eyes, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, emeralds, + and garnets within. + </p> + <p> + The White Cobra was right. No mere money would begin to pay the value of + this treasure, the sifted pickings of centuries of war, plunder, trade, + and taxation. The coins alone were priceless, leaving out of count all the + precious stones; and the dead weight of the gold and silver alone might be + two or three hundred tons. Every native ruler in India to-day, however + poor, has a hoard to which he is always adding; and though, once in a long + while, some enlightened prince may send off forty or fifty bullock-cart + loads of silver to be exchanged for Government securities, the bulk of + them keep their treasure and the knowledge of it very closely to + themselves. + </p> + <p> + But Mowgli naturally did not understand what these things meant. The + knives interested him a little, but they did not balance so well as his + own, and so he dropped them. At last he found something really fascinating + laid on the front of a howdah half buried in the coins. It was a + three-foot ankus, or elephant-goad—something like a small boat-hook. + The top was one round, shining ruby, and eight inches of the handle below + it were studded with rough turquoises close together, giving a most + satisfactory grip. Below them was a rim of jade with a flower-pattern + running round it—only the leaves were emeralds, and the blossoms + were rubies sunk in the cool, green stone. The rest of the handle was a + shaft of pure ivory, while the point—the spike and hook—was + gold-inlaid steel with pictures of elephant-catching; and the pictures + attracted Mowgli, who saw that they had something to do with his friend + Hathi the Silent. + </p> + <p> + The White Cobra had been following him closely. + </p> + <p> + “Is this not worth dying to behold?” he said. “Have I not done thee a + great favour?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand,” said Mowgli. “The things are hard and cold, and by + no means good to eat. But this”—he lifted the ankus—“I desire + to take away, that I may see it in the sun. Thou sayest they are all + thine? Wilt thou give it to me, and I will bring thee frogs to eat?” + </p> + <p> + The White Cobra fairly shook with evil delight. “Assuredly I will give + it,” he said. “All that is here I will give thee—till thou goest + away.” + </p> + <p> + “But I go now. This place is dark and cold, and I wish to take the + thorn-pointed thing to the Jungle.” + </p> + <p> + “Look by thy foot! What is that there?” Mowgli picked up something white + and smooth. “It is the bone of a man’s head,” he said quietly. “And here + are two more.” + </p> + <p> + “They came to take the treasure away many years ago. I spoke to them in + the dark, and they lay still.” + </p> + <p> + “But what do I need of this that is called treasure? If thou wilt give me + the ankus to take away, it is good hunting. If not, it is good hunting + none the less. I do not fight with the Poison People, and I was also + taught the Master-word of thy tribe.” + </p> + <p> + “There is but one Master-word here. It is mine!” + </p> + <p> + Kaa flung himself forward with blazing eyes. “Who bade me bring the Man?” + he hissed. + </p> + <p> + “I surely,” the old Cobra lisped. “It is long since I have seen Man, and + this Man speaks our tongue.” + </p> + <p> + “But there was no talk of killing. How can I go to the Jungle and say that + I have led him to his death?” said Kaa. + </p> + <p> + “I talk not of killing till the time. And as to thy going or not going, + there is the hole in the wall. Peace, now, thou fat monkey-killer! I have + but to touch thy neck, and the Jungle will know thee no longer. Never Man + came here that went away with the breath under his ribs. I am the Warden + of the Treasure of the King’s City!” + </p> + <p> + “But, thou white worm of the dark, I tell thee there is neither king nor + city! The Jungle is all about us!” cried Kaa. + </p> + <p> + “There is still the Treasure. But this can be done. Wait awhile, Kaa of + the Rocks, and see the boy run. There is room for great sport here. Life + is good. Run to and fro awhile, and make sport, boy!” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli put his hand on Kaa’s head quietly. + </p> + <p> + “The white thing has dealt with men of the Man-Pack until now. He does not + know me,” he whispered. “He has asked for this hunting. Let him have it.” + Mowgli had been standing with the ankus held point down. He flung it from + him quickly and it dropped crossways just behind the great snake’s hood, + pinning him to the floor. In a flash, Kaa’s weight was upon the writhing + body, paralysing it from hood to tail. The red eyes burned, and the six + spare inches of the head struck furiously right and left. + </p> + <p> + “Kill!” said Kaa, as Mowgli’s hand went to his knife. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, as he drew the blade; “I will never kill again save for + food. But look you, Kaa!” He caught the snake behind the hood, forced the + mouth open with the blade of the knife, and showed the terrible + poison-fangs of the upper jaw lying black and withered in the gum. The + White Cobra had outlived his poison, as a snake will. + </p> + <p> + “THUU” (“It is dried up”—Literally, a rotted out tree-stump), said + Mowgli; and motioning Kaa away, he picked up the ankus, setting the White + Cobra free. + </p> + <p> + “The King’s Treasure needs a new Warden,” he said gravely. “Thuu, thou + hast not done well. Run to and fro and make sport, Thuu!” + </p> + <p> + “I am ashamed. Kill me!” hissed the White Cobra. + </p> + <p> + “There has been too much talk of killing. We will go now. I take the + thorn-pointed thing, Thuu, because I have fought and worsted thee.” + </p> + <p> + “See, then, that the thing does not kill thee at last. It is Death! + Remember, it is Death! There is enough in that thing to kill the men of + all my city. Not long wilt thou hold it, Jungle Man, nor he who takes it + from thee. They will kill, and kill, and kill for its sake! My strength is + dried up, but the ankus will do my work. It is Death! It is Death! It is + Death!” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli crawled out through the hole into the passage again, and the last + that he saw was the White Cobra striking furiously with his harmless fangs + at the stolid golden faces of the gods that lay on the floor, and hissing, + “It is Death!” + </p> + <p> + They were glad to get to the light of day once more; and when they were + back in their own Jungle and Mowgli made the ankus glitter in the morning + light, he was almost as pleased as though he had found a bunch of new + flowers to stick in his hair. + </p> + <p> + “This is brighter than Bagheera’s eyes,” he said delightedly, as he + twirled the ruby. “I will show it to him; but what did the Thuu mean when + he talked of death?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot say. I am sorrowful to my tail’s tail that he felt not thy + knife. There is always evil at Cold Lairs—above ground or below. But + now I am hungry. Dost thou hunt with me this dawn?” said Kaa. + </p> + <p> + “No; Bagheera must see this thing. Good hunting!” Mowgli danced off, + flourishing the great ankus, and stopping from time to time to admire it, + till he came to that part of the Jungle Bagheera chiefly used, and found + him drinking after a heavy kill. Mowgli told him all his adventures from + beginning to end, and Bagheera sniffed at the ankus between whiles. When + Mowgli came to the White Cobra’s last words, the Panther purred + approvingly. + </p> + <p> + “Then the White Hood spoke the thing which is?” Mowgli asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I was born in the King’s cages at Oodeypore, and it is in my stomach that + I know some little of Man. Very many men would kill thrice in a night for + the sake of that one big red stone alone.” + </p> + <p> + “But the stone makes it heavy to the hand. My little bright knife is + better; and—see! the red stone is not good to eat. Then WHY would + they kill?” + </p> + <p> + “Mowgli, go thou and sleep. Thou hast lived among men, and——” + </p> + <p> + “I remember. Men kill because they are not hunting;—for idleness and + pleasure. Wake again, Bagheera. For what use was this thorn-pointed thing + made?” + </p> + <p> + Bagheera half opened his eyes—he was very sleepy—with a + malicious twinkle. + </p> + <p> + “It was made by men to thrust into the head of the sons of Hathi, so that + the blood should pour out. I have seen the like in the street of + Oodeypore, before our cages. That thing has tasted the blood of many such + as Hathi.” + </p> + <p> + “But why do they thrust into the heads of elephants?” + </p> + <p> + “To teach them Man’s Law. Having neither claws nor teeth, men make these + things—and worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Always more blood when I come near, even to the things the Man-Pack have + made,” said Mowgli disgustedly. He was getting a little tired of the + weight of the ankus. “If I had known this, I would not have taken it. + First it was Messua’s blood on the thongs, and now it is Hathi’s. I will + use it no more. Look!” + </p> + <p> + The ankus flew sparkling, and buried itself point down thirty yards away, + between the trees. “So my hands are clean of Death,” said Mowgli, rubbing + his palms on the fresh, moist earth. “The Thuu said Death would follow me. + He is old and white and mad.” + </p> + <p> + “White or black, or death or life, <i>I</i> am going to sleep, Little + Brother. I cannot hunt all night and howl all day, as do some folk.” + </p> + <p> + Bagheera went off to a hunting-lair that he knew, about two miles off. + Mowgli made an easy way for himself up a convenient tree, knotted three or + four creepers together, and in less time than it takes to tell was + swinging in a hammock fifty feet above ground. Though he had no positive + objection to strong daylight, Mowgli followed the custom of his friends, + and used it as little as he could. When he waked among the very + loud-voiced peoples that live in the trees, it was twilight once more, and + he had been dreaming of the beautiful pebbles he had thrown away. + </p> + <p> + “At least I will look at the thing again,” he said, and slid down a + creeper to the earth; but Bagheera was before him. Mowgli could hear him + snuffing in the half light. + </p> + <p> + “Where is the thorn-pointed thing?” cried Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “A man has taken it. Here is the trail.” + </p> + <p> + “Now we shall see whether the Thuu spoke truth. If the pointed thing is + Death, that man will die. Let us follow.” + </p> + <p> + “Kill first,” said Bagheera. “An empty stomach makes a careless eye. Men + go very slowly, and the Jungle is wet enough to hold the lightest mark.” + </p> + <p> + They killed as soon as they could, but it was nearly three hours before + they finished their meat and drink and buckled down to the trail. The + Jungle People know that nothing makes up for being hurried over your + meals. + </p> + <p> + “Think you the pointed thing will turn in the man’s hand and kill him?” + Mowgli asked. “The Thuu said it was Death.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall see when we find,” said Bagheera, trotting with his head low. + “It is single-foot” (he meant that there was only one man), “and the + weight of the thing has pressed his heel far into the ground.” + </p> + <p> + “Hai! This is as clear as summer lightning,” Mowgli answered; and they + fell into the quick, choppy trail-trot in and out through the checkers of + the moonlight, following the marks of those two bare feet. + </p> + <p> + “Now he runs swiftly,” said Mowgli. “The toes are spread apart.” They went + on over some wet ground. “Now why does he turn aside here?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” said Bagheera, and flung himself forward with one superb bound as + far as ever he could. The first thing to do when a trail ceases to explain + itself is to cast forward without leaving, your own confusing foot-marks + on the ground. Bagheera turned as he landed, and faced Mowgli, crying, + “Here comes another trail to meet him. It is a smaller foot, this second + trail, and the toes turn inward.” + </p> + <p> + Then Mowgli ran up and looked. “It is the foot of a Gond hunter,” he said. + “Look! Here he dragged his bow on the grass. That is why the first trail + turned aside so quickly. Big Foot hid from Little Foot.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Bagheera. “Now, lest by crossing each other’s tracks + we foul the signs, let each take one trail. I am Big Foot, Little Brother, + and thou art Little Foot, the Gond.” + </p> + <p> + Bagheera leaped back to the original trail, leaving Mowgli stooping above + the curious narrow track of the wild little man of the woods. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Bagheera, moving step by step along the chain of footprints, + “I, Big Foot, turn aside here. Now I hide me behind a rock and stand + still, not daring to shift my feet. Cry thy trail, Little Brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, I, Little Foot, come to the rock,” said Mowgli, running up his + trail. “Now, I sit down under the rock, leaning upon my right hand, and + resting my bow between my toes. I wait long, for the mark of my feet is + deep here.” + </p> + <p> + “I also,” said Bagheera, hidden behind the rock. “I wait, resting the end + of the thorn-pointed thing upon a stone. It slips, for here is a scratch + upon the stone. Cry thy trail, Little Brother.” + </p> + <p> + “One, two twigs and a big branch are broken here,” said Mowgli, in an + undertone. “Now, how shall I cry THAT? Ah! It is plain now. I, Little + Foot, go away making noises and tramplings so that Big Foot may hear me.” + He moved away from the rock pace by pace among the trees, his voice rising + in the distance as he approached a little cascade. “I—go, far—away—to—where—the—noise—of—falling-water—covers—my—noise; + and—here—I—wait. Cry thy trail, Bagheera, Big Foot!” + </p> + <p> + The panther had been casting in every direction to see how Big Foot’s + trail led away from behind the rock. Then he gave tongue: + </p> + <p> + “I come from behind the rock upon my knees, dragging the thorn-pointed + thing. Seeing no one, I run. I, Big Foot, run swiftly. The trail is clear. + Let each follow his own. I run!” + </p> + <p> + Bagheera swept on along the clearly-marked trail, and Mowgli followed the + steps of the Gond. For some time there was silence in the Jungle. + </p> + <p> + “Where art thou, Little Foot?” cried Bagheera. Mowgli’s voice answered him + not fifty yards to the right. + </p> + <p> + “Um!” said the Panther, with a deep cough. “The two run side by side, + drawing nearer!” + </p> + <p> + They raced on another half-mile, always keeping about the same distance, + till Mowgli, whose head was not so close to the ground as Bagheera’s, + cried: “They have met. Good hunting—look! Here stood Little Foot, + with his knee on a rock—and yonder is Big Foot indeed!” + </p> + <p> + Not ten yards in front of them, stretched across a pile of broken rocks, + lay the body of a villager of the district, a long, small-feathered Gond + arrow through his back and breast. + </p> + <p> + “Was the Thuu so old and so mad, Little Brother?” said Bagheera gently. + “Here is one death, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “Follow on. But where is the drinker of elephant’s blood—the + red-eyed thorn?” + </p> + <p> + “Little Foot has it—perhaps. It is single-foot again now.” + </p> + <p> + The single trail of a light man who had been running quickly and bearing a + burden on his left shoulder held on round a long, low spur of dried grass, + where each footfall seemed, to the sharp eyes of the trackers, marked in + hot iron. + </p> + <p> + Neither spoke till the trail ran up to the ashes of a camp-fire hidden in + a ravine. + </p> + <p> + “Again!” said Bagheera, checking as though he had been turned into stone. + </p> + <p> + The body of a little wizened Gond lay with its feet in the ashes, and + Bagheera looked inquiringly at Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “That was done with a bamboo,” said the boy, after one glance. “I have + used such a thing among the buffaloes when I served in the Man-Pack. The + Father of Cobras—I am sorrowful that I made a jest of him—knew + the breed well, as I might have known. Said I not that men kill for + idleness?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, they killed for the sake of the red and blue stones,” Bagheera + answered. “Remember, I was in the King’s cages at Oodeypore.” + </p> + <p> + “One, two, three, four tracks,” said Mowgli, stooping over the ashes. + “Four tracks of men with shod feet. They do not go so quickly as Gonds. + Now, what evil had the little woodman done to them? See, they talked + together, all five, standing up, before they killed him. Bagheera, let us + go back. My stomach is heavy in me, and yet it heaves up and down like an + oriole’s nest at the end of a branch.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not good hunting to leave game afoot. Follow!” said the panther. + “Those eight shod feet have not gone far.” + </p> + <p> + No more was said for fully an hour, as they worked up the broad trail of + the four men with shod feet. + </p> + <p> + It was clear, hot daylight now, and Bagheera said, “I smell smoke.” + </p> + <p> + Men are always more ready to eat than to run, Mowgli answered, trotting in + and out between the low scrub bushes of the new Jungle they were + exploring. Bagheera, a little to his left, made an indescribable noise in + his throat. + </p> + <p> + “Here is one that has done with feeding,” said he. A tumbled bundle of + gay-coloured clothes lay under a bush, and round it was some spilt flour. + </p> + <p> + “That was done by the bamboo again,” said Mowgli. “See! that white dust is + what men eat. They have taken the kill from this one,—he carried + their food,—and given him for a kill to Chil, the Kite.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the third,” said Bagheera. + </p> + <p> + “I will go with new, big frogs to the Father of Cobras, and feed him fat,” + said Mowgli to himself. “The drinker of elephant’s blood is Death himself—but + still I do not understand!” + </p> + <p> + “Follow!” said Bagheera. + </p> + <p> + They had not gone half a mile farther when they heard Ko, the Crow, + singing the death-song in the top of a tamarisk under whose shade three + men were lying. A half-dead fire smoked in the centre of the circle, under + an iron plate which held a blackened and burned cake of unleavened bread. + Close to the fire, and blazing in the sunshine, lay the ruby-and-turquoise + ankus. + </p> + <p> + “The thing works quickly; all ends here,” said Bagheera. “How did THESE + die, Mowgli? There is no mark on any.” + </p> + <p> + A Jungle-dweller gets to learn by experience as much as many doctors know + of poisonous plants and berries. Mowgli sniffed the smoke that came up + from the fire, broke off a morsel of the blackened bread, tasted it, and + spat it out again. + </p> + <p> + “Apple of Death,” he coughed. “The first must have made it ready in the + food for THESE, who killed him, having first killed the Gond.” + </p> + <p> + “Good hunting, indeed! The kills follow close,” said Bagheera. + </p> + <p> + “Apple of Death” is what the Jungle call thorn-apple or dhatura, the + readiest poison in all India. + </p> + <p> + “What now?” said the panther. “Must thou and I kill each other for yonder + red-eyed slayer?” + </p> + <p> + “Can it speak?” said Mowgli in a whisper. “Did I do it a wrong when I + threw it away? Between us two it can do no wrong, for we do not desire + what men desire. If it be left here, it will assuredly continue to kill + men one after another as fast as nuts fall in a high wind. I have no love + to men, but even I would not have them die six in a night.” + </p> + <p> + “What matter? They are only men. They killed one another, and were well + pleased,” said Bagheera. “That first little woodman hunted well.” + </p> + <p> + “They are cubs none the less; and a cub will drown himself to bite the + moon’s light on the water. The fault was mine,” said Mowgli, who spoke as + though he knew all about everything. “I will never again bring into the + Jungle strange things—not though they be as beautiful as flowers. + This”—he handled the ankus gingerly—“goes back to the Father + of Cobras. But first we must sleep, and we cannot sleep near these + sleepers. Also we must bury HIM, lest he run away and kill another six. + Dig me a hole under that tree.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Little Brother,” said Bagheera, moving off to the spot, “I tell thee + it is no fault of the blood-drinker. The trouble is with the men.” + </p> + <p> + “All one,” said Mowgli. “Dig the hole deep. When we wake I will take him + up and carry him back.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Two nights later, as the White Cobra sat mourning in the darkness of the + vault, ashamed, and robbed, and alone, the turquoise ankus whirled through + the hole in the wall, and clashed on the floor of golden coins. + </p> + <p> + “Father of Cobras,” said Mowgli (he was careful to keep the other side of + the wall), “get thee a young and ripe one of thine own people to help thee + guard the King’s Treasure, so that no man may come away alive any more.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah-ha! It returns, then. I said the thing was Death. How comes it that + thou art still alive?” the old Cobra mumbled, twining lovingly round the + ankus-haft. + </p> + <p> + “By the Bull that bought me, I do not know! That thing has killed six + times in a night. Let him go out no more.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SONG OF THE LITTLE HUNTER + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry, + Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer, + Through the Jungle very softly flits a shadow and a sigh— + He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear! + + Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watching shade, + And the whisper spreads and widens far and near; + And the sweat is on thy brow, for he passes even now— + He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear! + + Ere the moon has climbed the mountain, ere the rocks + are ribbed with light, + When the downward-dipping trails are dank and drear, + Comes a breathing hard behind thee—snuffle-snuffle + through the night— + It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear! + + On thy knees and draw the bow; bid the shrilling arrow go; + In the empty, mocking thicket plunge the spear; + But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood has left + thy cheek— + It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear! + + When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the slivered + pine-trees fall, + When the blinding, blaring rain-squalls lash and veer; + Through the war-gongs of the thunder rings a voice more + loud than all— + It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear! + + Now the spates are banked and deep; now the footless + boulders leap— + Now the lightning shows each littlest leaf-rib clear— + But thy throat is shut and dried, and thy heart against + thy side + Hammers: Fear, O Little Hunter—this is Fear! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + QUIQUERN + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow— + They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go. + The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight; + “They sell their furs to the trading-post: they sell their souls + to the white. + The People of the Southern Ice, they trade with the whaler’s + crew; + Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few. + But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man’s ken— + Their spears are made of the narwhal-horn, and they are the + last of the Men! + Translation. +</pre> + <p> + “He has opened his eyes. Look!” + </p> + <p> + “Put him in the skin again. He will be a strong dog. On the fourth month + we will name him.” + </p> + <p> + “For whom?” said Amoraq. + </p> + <p> + Kadlu’s eye rolled round the skin-lined snow-house till it fell on + fourteen-year-old Kotuko sitting on the sleeping-bench, making a button + out of walrus ivory. “Name him for me,” said Kotuko, with a grin. “I shall + need him one day.” + </p> + <p> + Kadlu grinned back till his eyes were almost buried in the fat of his flat + cheeks, and nodded to Amoraq, while the puppy’s fierce mother whined to + see her baby wriggling far out of reach in the little sealskin pouch hung + above the warmth of the blubber-lamp. Kotuko went on with his carving, and + Kadlu threw a rolled bundle of leather dog-harnesses into a tiny little + room that opened from one side of the house, slipped off his heavy + deerskin hunting-suit, put it into a whalebone-net that hung above another + lamp, and dropped down on the sleeping-bench to whittle at a piece of + frozen seal-meat till Amoraq, his wife, should bring the regular dinner of + boiled meat and blood-soup. He had been out since early dawn at the + seal-holes, eight miles away, and had come home with three big seal. + Half-way down the long, low snow passage or tunnel that led to the inner + door of the house you could hear snappings and yelpings, as the dogs of + his sleigh-team, released from the day’s work, scuffled for warm places. + </p> + <p> + When the yelpings grew too loud Kotuko lazily rolled off the + sleeping-bench, and picked up a whip with an eighteen-inch handle of + springy whalebone, and twenty-five feet of heavy, plaited thong. He dived + into the passage, where it sounded as though all the dogs were eating him + alive; but that was no more than their regular grace before meals. When he + crawled out at the far end, half a dozen furry heads followed him with + their eyes as he went to a sort of gallows of whale-jawbones, from which + the dog’s meat was hung; split off the frozen stuff in big lumps with a + broad-headed spear; and stood, his whip in one hand and the meat in the + other. Each beast was called by name, the weakest first, and woe betide + any dog that moved out of his turn; for the tapering lash would shoot out + like thonged lightning, and flick away an inch or so of hair and hide. + Each beast growled, snapped, choked once over his portion, and hurried + back to the protection of the passage, while the boy stood upon the snow + under the blazing Northern Lights and dealt out justice. The last to be + served was the big black leader of the team, who kept order when the dogs + were harnessed; and to him Kotuko gave a double allowance of meat as well + as an extra crack of the whip. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Kotuko, coiling up the lash, “I have a little one over the lamp + that will make a great many howlings. SARPOK! Get in!” + </p> + <p> + He crawled back over the huddled dogs, dusted the dry snow from his furs + with the whalebone beater that Amoraq kept by the door, tapped the + skin-lined roof of the house to shake off any icicles that might have + fallen from the dome of snow above, and curled up on the bench. The dogs + in the passage snored and whined in their sleep, the boy-baby in Amoraq’s + deep fur hood kicked and choked and gurgled, and the mother of the + newly-named puppy lay at Kotuko’s side, her eyes fixed on the bundle of + sealskin, warm and safe above the broad yellow flame of the lamp. + </p> + <p> + And all this happened far away to the north, beyond Labrador, beyond + Hudson’s Strait, where the great tides heave the ice about, north of + Melville Peninsula—north even of the narrow Fury and Hecla Straits—on + the north shore of Baffin Land, where Bylot’s Island stands above the ice + of Lancaster Sound like a pudding-bowl wrong side up. North of Lancaster + Sound there is little we know anything about, except North Devon and + Ellesmere Land; but even there live a few scattered people, next door, as + it were, to the very Pole. + </p> + <p> + Kadlu was an Inuit,—what you call an Esquimau,—and his tribe, + some thirty persons all told, belonged to the Tununirmiut—“the + country lying at the back of something.” In the maps that desolate coast + is written Navy Board Inlet, but the Inuit name is best, because the + country lies at the very back of everything in the world. For nine months + of the year there is only ice and snow, and gale after gale, with a cold + that no one can realise who has never seen the thermometer even at zero. + For six months of those nine it is dark; and that is what makes it so + horrible. In the three months of the summer it only freezes every other + day and every night, and then the snow begins to weep off on the southerly + slopes, and a few ground-willows put out their woolly buds, a tiny + stonecrop or so makes believe to blossom, beaches of fine gravel and + rounded stones run down to the open sea, and polished boulders and + streaked rocks lift up above the granulated snow. But all that is gone in + a few weeks, and the wild winter locks down again on the land; while at + sea the ice tears up and down the offing, jamming and ramming, and + splitting and hitting, and pounding and grounding, till it all freezes + together, ten feet thick, from the land outward to deep water. + </p> + <p> + In the winter Kadlu would follow the seal to the edge of this land-ice, + and spear them as they came up to breathe at their blow-holes. The seal + must have open water to live and catch fish in, and in the deep of winter + the ice would sometimes run eighty miles without a break from the nearest + shore. In the spring he and his people retreated from the floes to the + rocky mainland, where they put up tents of skins, and snared the + sea-birds, or speared the young seal basking on the beaches. Later, they + would go south into Baffin Land after the reindeer, and to get their + year’s store of salmon from the hundreds of streams and lakes of the + interior; coming back north in September or October for the musk-ox + hunting and the regular winter sealery. This travelling was done with + dog-sleighs, twenty and thirty miles a day, or sometimes down the coast in + big skin “woman-boats,” when the dogs and the babies lay among the feet of + the rowers, and the women sang songs as they glided from cape to cape over + the glassy, cold waters. All the luxuries that the Tununirmiut knew came + from the south—driftwood for sleigh-runners, rod-iron for + harpoon-tips, steel knives, tin kettles that cooked food much better than + the old soap-stone affairs, flint and steel, and even matches, as well as + coloured ribbons for the women’s hair, little cheap mirrors, and red cloth + for the edging of deerskin dress-jackets. Kadlu traded the rich, creamy, + twisted narwhal horn and musk-ox teeth (these are just as valuable as + pearls) to the Southern Inuit, and they, in turn, traded with the whalers + and the missionary-posts of Exeter and Cumberland Sounds; and so the chain + went on, till a kettle picked up by a ship’s cook in the Bhendy Bazaar + might end its days over a blubber-lamp somewhere on the cool side of the + Arctic Circle. + </p> + <p> + Kadlu, being a good hunter, was rich in iron harpoons, snow-knives, + bird-darts, and all the other things that make life easy up there in the + great cold; and he was the head of his tribe, or, as they say, “the man + who knows all about it by practice.” This did not give him any authority, + except now and then he could advise his friends to change their + hunting-grounds; but Kotuko used it to domineer a little, in the lazy, fat + Inuit fashion, over the other boys, when they came out at night to play + ball in the moonlight, or to sing the Child’s Song to the Aurora Borealis. + </p> + <p> + But at fourteen an Inuit feels himself a man, and Kotuko was tired of + making snares for wild-fowl and kit-foxes, and most tired of all of + helping the women to chew seal-and deer-skins (that supples them as + nothing else can) the long day through, while the men were out hunting. He + wanted to go into the quaggi, the Singing-House, when the hunters gathered + there for their mysteries, and the angekok, the sorcerer, frightened them + into the most delightful fits after the lamps were put out, and you could + hear the Spirit of the Reindeer stamping on the roof; and when a spear was + thrust out into the open black night it came back covered with hot blood. + He wanted to throw his big boots into the net with the tired air of the + head of a family, and to gamble with the hunters when they dropped in of + an evening and played a sort of home-made roulette with a tin pot and a + nail. There were hundreds of things that he wanted to do, but the grown + men laughed at him and said, “Wait till you have been in the buckle, + Kotuko. Hunting is not ALL catching.” + </p> + <p> + Now that his father had named a puppy for him, things looked brighter. An + Inuit does not waste a good dog on his son till the boy knows something of + dog-driving; and Kotuko was more than sure that he knew more than + everything. + </p> + <p> + If the puppy had not had an iron constitution he would have died from + over-stuffing and over-handling. Kotuko made him a tiny harness with a + trace to it, and hauled him all over the house-floor, shouting: “Aua! Ja + aua!” (Go to the right). “Choiachoi! Ja choiachoi!” (Go to the left). + “Ohaha!” (Stop). The puppy did not like it at all, but being fished for in + this way was pure happiness beside being put to the sleigh for the first + time. He just sat down on the snow, and played with the seal-hide trace + that ran from his harness to the pitu, the big thong in the bows of the + sleigh. Then the team started, and the puppy found the heavy ten-foot + sleigh running up his back, and dragging him along the snow, while Kotuko + laughed till the tears ran down his face. There followed days and days of + the cruel whip that hisses like the wind over ice, and his companions all + bit him because he did not know his work, and the harness chafed him, and + he was dot allowed to sleep with Kotuko any more, but had to take the + coldest place in the passage. It was a sad time for the puppy. + </p> + <p> + The boy learned, too, as fast as the dog; though a dog-sleigh is a + heart-breaking thing to manage. Each beast is harnessed, the weakest + nearest to the driver, by his own separate trace, which runs under his + left fore-leg to the main thong, where it is fastened by a sort of button + and loop which can be slipped by a turn of the wrist, thus freeing one dog + at a time. This is very necessary, because young dogs often get the trace + between their hind legs, where it cuts to the bone. And they one and all + WILL go visiting their friends as they run, jumping in and out among the + traces. Then they fight, and the result is more mixed than a wet + fishing-line next morning. A great deal of trouble can be avoided by + scientific use of the whip. Every Inuit boy prides himself as being a + master of the long lash; but it is easy to flick at a mark on the ground, + and difficult to lean forward and catch a shirking dog just behind the + shoulders when the sleigh is going at full speed. If you call one dog’s + name for “visiting,” and accidentally lash another, the two will fight it + out at once, and stop all the others. Again, if you travel with a + companion and begin to talk, or by yourself and sing, the dogs will halt, + turn round, and sit down to hear what you have to say. Kotuko was run away + from once or twice through forgetting to block the sleigh when he stopped; + and he broke many lashings, and ruined a few thongs before he could be + trusted with a full team of eight and the light sleigh. Then he felt + himself a person of consequence, and on smooth, black ice, with a bold + heart and a quick elbow, he smoked along over the levels as fast as a pack + in full cry. He would go ten miles to the seal-holes, and when he was on + the hunting-grounds he would twitch a trace loose from the pitu, and free + the big black leader, who was the cleverest dog in the team. As soon as + the dog had scented a breathing-hole, Kotuko would reverse the sleigh, + driving a couple of sawed-off antlers, that stuck up like + perambulator-handles from the back-rest, deep into the snow, so that the + team could not get away. Then he would crawl forward inch by inch, and + wait till the seal came up to breathe. Then he would stab down swiftly + with his spear and running-line, and presently would haul his seal up to + the lip of the ice, while the black leader came up and helped to pull the + carcass across the ice to the sleigh. That was the time when the harnessed + dogs yelled and foamed with excitement, and Kotuko laid the long lash like + a red-hot bar across all their faces, till the carcass froze stiff. Going + home was the heavy work. The loaded sleigh had to be humoured among the + rough ice, and the dogs sat down and looked hungrily at the seal instead + of pulling. At last they would strike the well-worn sleigh-road to the + village, and toodle-kiyi along the ringing ice, heads down and tails up, + while Kotuko struck up the “An-gutivaun tai-na tau-na-ne taina” (The Song + of the Returning Hunter), and voices hailed him from house to house under + all that dim, star-littern sky. + </p> + <p> + When Kotuko the dog came to his full growth he enjoyed himself too. He + fought his way up the team steadily, fight after fight, till one fine + evening, over their food, he tackled the big, black leader (Kotuko the boy + saw fair play), and made second dog of him, as they say. So he was + promoted to the long thong of the leading dog, running five feet in + advance of all the others: it was his bounden duty to stop all fighting, + in harness or out of it, and he wore a collar of copper wire, very thick + and heavy. On special occasions he was fed with cooked food inside the + house, and sometimes was allowed to sleep on the bench with Kotuko. He was + a good seal-dog, and would keep a musk-ox at bay by running round him and + snapping at his heels. He would even—and this for a sleigh-dog is + the last proof of bravery—he would even stand up to the gaunt Arctic + wolf, whom all dogs of the North, as a rule, fear beyond anything that + walks the snow. He and his master—they did not count the team of + ordinary dogs as company—hunted together, day after day and night + after night, fur-wrapped boy and savage, long-haired, narrow-eyed, + white-fanged, yellow brute. All an Inuit has to do is to get food and + skins for himself and his family. The women-folk make the skins into + clothing, and occasionally help in trapping small game; but the bulk of + the food—and they eat enormously—must be found by the men. If + the supply fails there is no one up there to buy or beg or borrow from. + The people must die. + </p> + <p> + An Inuit does not think of these chances till he is forced to. Kadlu, + Kotuko, Amoraq, and the boy-baby who kicked about in Amoraq’s fur hood and + chewed pieces of blubber all day, were as happy together as any family in + the world. They came of a very gentle race—an Inuit seldom loses his + temper, and almost never strikes a child—who did not know exactly + what telling a real lie meant, still less how to steal. They were content + to spear their living out of the heart of the bitter, hopeless cold; to + smile oily smiles, and tell queer ghost and fairy tales of evenings, and + eat till they could eat no more, and sing the endless woman’s song: “Amna + aya, aya amna, ah! ah!” through the long lamp-lighted days as they mended + their clothes and their hunting-gear. + </p> + <p> + But one terrible winter everything betrayed them. The Tununirmiut returned + from the yearly salmon-fishing, and made their houses on the early ice to + the north of Bylot’s Island, ready to go after the seal as soon as the sea + froze. But it was an early and savage autumn. All through September there + were continuous gales that broke up the smooth seal-ice when it was only + four or five feet thick, and forced it inland, and piled a great barrier, + some twenty miles broad, of lumped and ragged and needly ice, over which + it was impossible to draw the dog-sleighs. The edge of the floe off which + the seal were used to fish in winter lay perhaps twenty miles beyond this + barrier, and out of reach of the Tununirmiut. Even so, they might have + managed to scrape through the winter on their stock of frozen salmon and + stored blubber, and what the traps gave them, but in December one of their + hunters came across a tupik (a skin-tent) of three women and a girl nearly + dead, whose men had come down from the far North and been crushed in their + little skin hunting-boats while they were out after the long-horned + narwhal. Kadlu, of course, could only distribute the women among the huts + of the winter village, for no Inuit dare refuse a meal to a stranger. He + never knows when his own turn may come to beg. Amoraq took the girl, who + was about fourteen, into her own house as a sort of servant. From the cut + of her sharp-pointed hood, and the long diamond pattern of her white + deer-skin leggings, they supposed she came from Ellesmere Land. She had + never seen tin cooking-pots or wooden-shod sleighs before; but Kotuko the + boy and Kotuko the dog were rather fond of her. + </p> + <p> + Then all the foxes went south, and even the wolverine, that growling, + blunt-headed little thief of the snow, did not take the trouble to follow + the line of empty traps that Kotuko set. The tribe lost a couple of their + best hunters, who were badly crippled in a fight with a musk-ox, and this + threw more work on the others. Kotuko went out, day after day, with a + light hunting-sleigh and six or seven of the strongest dogs, looking till + his eyes ached for some patch of clear ice where a seal might perhaps have + scratched a breathing-hole. Kotuko the dog ranged far and wide, and in the + dead stillness of the ice-fields Kotuko the boy could hear his half-choked + whine of excitement, above a seal-hole three miles away, as plainly as + though he were at his elbow. When the dog found a hole the boy would build + himself a little, low snow wall to keep off the worst of the bitter wind, + and there he would wait ten, twelve, twenty hours for the seal to come up + to breathe, his eyes glued to the tiny mark he had made above the hole to + guide the downward thrust of his harpoon, a little seal-skin mat under his + feet, and his legs tied together in the tutareang (the buckle that the old + hunters had talked about). This helps to keep a man’s legs from twitching + as he waits and waits and waits for the quick-eared seal to rise. Though + there is no excitement in it, you can easily believe that the sitting + still in the buckle with the thermometer perhaps forty degrees below zero + is the hardest work an Inuit knows. When a seal was caught, Kotuko the dog + would bound forward, his trace trailing behind him, and help to pull the + body to the sleigh, where the tired and hungry dogs lay sullenly under the + lee of the broken ice. + </p> + <p> + A seal did not go very far, for each mouth in the little village had a + right to be filled, and neither bone, hide, nor sinew was wasted. The + dogs’ meat was taken for human use, and Amoraq fed the team with pieces of + old summer skin-tents raked out from under the sleeping-bench, and they + howled and howled again, and waked to howl hungrily. One could tell by the + soap-stone lamps in the huts that famine was near. In good seasons, when + blubber was plentiful, the light in the boat-shaped lamps would be two + feet high—cheerful, oily, and yellow. Now it was a bare six inches: + Amoraq carefully pricked down the moss wick, when an unwatched flame + brightened for a moment, and the eyes of all the family followed her hand. + The horror of famine up there in the great cold is not so much dying, as + dying in the dark. All the Inuit dread the dark that presses on them + without a break for six months in each year; and when the lamps are low in + the houses the minds of people begin to be shaken and confused. + </p> + <p> + But worse was to come. + </p> + <p> + The underfed dogs snapped and growled in the passages, glaring at the cold + stars, and snuffing into the bitter wind, night after night. When they + stopped howling the silence fell down again as solid and heavy as a + snowdrift against a door, and men could hear the beating of their blood in + the thin passages of the ear, and the thumping of their own hearts, that + sounded as loud as the noise of sorcerers’ drums beaten across the snow. + One night Kotuko the dog, who had been unusually sullen in harness, leaped + up and pushed his head against Kotuko’s knee. Kotuko patted him, but the + dog still pushed blindly forward, fawning. Then Kadlu waked, and gripped + the heavy wolf-like head, and stared into the glassy eyes. The dog + whimpered and shivered between Kadlu’s knees. The hair rose about his + neck, and he growled as though a stranger were at the door; then he barked + joyously, and rolled on the ground, and bit at Kotuko’s boot like a puppy. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” said Kotuko; for he was beginning to be afraid. + </p> + <p> + “The sickness,” Kadlu answered. “It is the dog sickness.” Kotuko the dog + lifted his nose and howled and howled again. + </p> + <p> + “I have not seen this before. What will he do?” said Kotuko. + </p> + <p> + Kadlu shrugged one shoulder a little, and crossed the hut for his short + stabbing-harpoon. The big dog looked at him, howled again, and slunk away + down the passage, while the other dogs drew aside right and left to give + him ample room. When he was out on the snow he barked furiously, as though + on the trail of a musk-ox, and, barking and leaping and frisking, passed + out of sight. His trouble was not hydrophobia, but simple, plain madness. + The cold and the hunger, and, above all, the dark, had turned his head; + and when the terrible dog-sickness once shows itself in a team, it spreads + like wild-fire. Next hunting-day another dog sickened, and was killed then + and there by Kotuko as he bit and struggled among the traces. Then the + black second dog, who had been the leader in the old days, suddenly gave + tongue on an imaginary reindeer-track, and when they slipped him from the + pitu he flew at the throat of an ice-cliff, and ran away as his leader had + done, his harness on his back. After that no one would take the dogs out + again. They needed them for something else, and the dogs knew it; and + though they were tied down and fed by hand, their eyes were full of + despair and fear. To make things worse, the old women began to tell + ghost-tales, and to say that they had met the spirits of the dead hunters + lost that autumn, who prophesied all sorts of horrible things. + </p> + <p> + Kotuko grieved more for the loss of his dog than anything else; for though + an Inuit eats enormously he also knows how to starve. But the hunger, the + darkness, the cold, and the exposure told on his strength, and he began to + hear voices inside his head, and to see people who were not there, out of + the tail of his eye. One night—he had unbuckled himself after ten + hours’ waiting above a “blind” seal-hole, and was staggering back to the + village faint and dizzy—he halted to lean his back against a boulder + which happened to be supported like a rocking-stone on a single jutting + point of ice. His weight disturbed the balance of the thing, it rolled + over ponderously, and as Kotuko sprang aside to avoid it, slid after him, + squeaking and hissing on the ice-slope. + </p> + <p> + That was enough for Kotuko. He had been brought up to believe that every + rock and boulder had its owner (its inua), who was generally a one-eyed + kind of a Woman-Thing called a tornaq, and that when a tornaq meant to + help a man she rolled after him inside her stone house, and asked him + whether he would take her for a guardian spirit. (In summer thaws the + ice-propped rocks and boulders roll and slip all over the face of the + land, so you can easily see how the idea of live stones arose.) Kotuko + heard the blood beating in his ears as he had heard it all day, and he + thought that was the tornaq of the stone speaking to him. Before he + reached home he was quite certain that he had held a long conversation + with her, and as all his people believed that this was quite possible, no + one contradicted him. + </p> + <p> + “She said to me, ‘I jump down, I jump down from my place on the snow,’” + cried Kotuko, with hollow eyes, leaning forward in the half-lighted hut. + “She said, ‘I will be a guide.’ She said, ‘I will guide you to the good + seal-holes.’ To-morrow I go out, and the tornaq will guide me.” + </p> + <p> + Then the angekok, the village sorcerer, came in, and Kotuko told him the + tale a second time. It lost nothing in the telling. + </p> + <p> + “Follow the tornait [the spirits of the stones], and they will bring us + food again,” said the angekok. + </p> + <p> + Now the girl from the North had been lying near the lamp, eating very + little and saying less for days past; but when Amoraq and Kadlu next + morning packed and lashed a little hand-sleigh for Kotuko, and loaded it + with his hunting-gear and as much blubber and frozen seal-meat as they + could spare, she took the pulling-rope, and stepped out boldly at the + boy’s side. + </p> + <p> + “Your house is my house,” she said, as the little bone-shod sleigh + squeaked and bumped behind them in the awful Arctic night. + </p> + <p> + “My house is your house,” said Kotuko; “but I think that we shall both go + to Sedna together.” + </p> + <p> + Now Sedna is the Mistress of the Underworld, and the Inuit believe that + every one who dies must spend a year in her horrible country before going + to Quadliparmiut, the Happy Place, where it never freezes and the fat + reindeer trot up when you call. + </p> + <p> + Through the village people were shouting: “The tornait have spoken to + Kotuko. They will show him open ice. He will bring us the seal again!” + Their voices were soon swallowed up by the cold, empty dark, and Kotuko + and the girl shouldered close together as they strained on the + pulling-rope or humoured the sleigh through the ice in the direction of + the Polar Sea. Kotuko insisted that the tornaq of the stone had told him + to go north, and north they went under Tuktuqdjung the Reindeer—those + stars that we call the Great Bear. + </p> + <p> + No European could have made five miles a day over the ice-rubbish and the + sharp-edged drifts; but those two knew exactly the turn of the wrist that + coaxes a sleigh round a hummock, the jerk that nearly lifts it out of an + ice-crack, and the exact strength that goes to the few quiet strokes of + the spear-head that make a path possible when everything looks hopeless. + </p> + <p> + The girl said nothing, but bowed her head, and the long wolverine-fur + fringe of her ermine hood blew across her broad, dark face. The sky above + them was an intense velvety black, changing to bands of Indian red on the + horizon, where the great stars burned like street-lamps. From time to time + a greenish wave of the Northern Lights would roll across the hollow of the + high heavens, flick like a flag, and disappear; or a meteor would crackle + from darkness to darkness, trailing a shower of sparks behind. Then they + could see the ridged and furrowed surface of the floe tipped and laced + with strange colours—red, copper, and bluish; but in the ordinary + starlight everything turned to one frost-bitten gray. The floe, as you + will remember, had been battered and tormented by the autumn gales till it + was one frozen earthquake. There were gullies and ravines, and holes like + gravel-pits, cut in ice; lumps and scattered pieces frozen down to the + original floor of the floe; blotches of old black ice that had been thrust + under the floe in some gale and heaved up again; roundish boulders of ice; + saw-like edges of ice carved by the snow that flies before the wind; and + sunken pits where thirty or forty acres lay below the level of the rest of + the field. From a little distance you might have taken the lumps for seal + or walrus, overturned sleighs or men on a hunting expedition, or even the + great Ten-legged White Spirit-Bear himself; but in spite of these + fantastic shapes, all on the very edge of starting into life, there was + neither sound nor the least faint echo of sound. And through this silence + and through this waste, where the sudden lights flapped and went out + again, the sleigh and the two that pulled it crawled like things in a + nightmare—a nightmare of the end of the world at the end of the + world. + </p> + <p> + When they were tired Kotuko would make what the hunters call a + “half-house,” a very small snow hut, into which they would huddle with the + travelling-lamp, and try to thaw out the frozen seal-meat. When they had + slept, the march began again—thirty miles a day to get ten miles + northward. The girl was always very silent, but Kotuko muttered to himself + and broke out into songs he had learned in the Singing-House—summer + songs, and reindeer and salmon songs—all horribly out of place at + that season. He would declare that he heard the tornaq growling to him, + and would run wildly up a hummock, tossing his arms and speaking in loud, + threatening tones. To tell the truth, Kotuko was very nearly crazy for the + time being; but the girl was sure that he was being guided by his guardian + spirit, and that everything would come right. She was not surprised, + therefore, when at the end of the fourth march Kotuko, whose eyes were + burning like fire-balls in his head, told her that his tornaq was + following them across the snow in the shape of a two-headed dog. The girl + looked where Kotuko pointed, and something seemed to slip into a ravine. + It was certainly not human, but everybody knew that the tornait preferred + to appear in the shape of bear and seal, and such like. + </p> + <p> + It might have been the Ten-legged White Spirit-Bear himself, or it might + have been anything, for Kotuko and the girl were so starved that their + eyes were untrustworthy. They had trapped nothing, and seen no trace of + game since they had left the village; their food would not hold out for + another week, and there was a gale coming. A Polar storm can blow for ten + days without a break, and all that while it is certain death to be abroad. + Kotuko laid up a snow-house large enough to take in the hand-sleigh (never + be separated from your meat), and while he was shaping the last irregular + block of ice that makes the key-stone of the roof, he saw a Thing looking + at him from a little cliff of ice half a mile away. The air was hazy, and + the Thing seemed to be forty feet long and ten feet high, with twenty feet + of tail and a shape that quivered all along the outlines. The girl saw it + too, but instead of crying aloud with terror, said quietly, “That is + Quiquern. What comes after?” + </p> + <p> + “He will speak to me,” said Kotuko; but the snow-knife trembled in his + hand as he spoke, because however much a man may believe that he is a + friend of strange and ugly spirits, he seldom likes to be taken quite at + his word. Quiquern, too, is the phantom of a gigantic toothless dog + without any hair, who is supposed to live in the far North, and to wander + about the country just before things are going to happen. They may be + pleasant or unpleasant things, but not even the sorcerers care to speak + about Quiquern. He makes the dogs go mad. Like the Spirit-Bear, he has + several extra pairs of legs,—six or eight,—and this Thing + jumping up and down in the haze had more legs than any real dog needed. + Kotuko and the girl huddled into their hut quickly. Of course if Quiquern + had wanted them, he could have torn it to pieces above their heads, but + the sense of a foot-thick snow-wall between themselves and the wicked dark + was great comfort. The gale broke with a shriek of wind like the shriek of + a train, and for three days and three nights it held, never varying one + point, and never lulling even for a minute. They fed the stone lamp + between their knees, and nibbled at the half-warm seal-meat, and watched + the black soot gather on the roof for seventy-two long hours. The girl + counted up the food in the sleigh; there was not more than two days’ + supply, and Kotuko looked over the iron heads and the deer-sinew + fastenings of his harpoon and his seal-lance and his bird-dart. There was + nothing else to do. + </p> + <p> + “We shall go to Sedna soon—very soon,” the girl whispered. “In three + days we shall lie down and go. Will your tornaq do nothing? Sing her an + angekok’s song to make her come here.” + </p> + <p> + He began to sing in the high-pitched howl of the magic songs, and the gale + went down slowly. In the middle of his song the girl started, laid her + mittened hand and then her head to the ice floor of the hut. Kotuko + followed her example, and the two kneeled, staring into each other’s eyes, + and listening with every nerve. He ripped a thin sliver of whalebone from + the rim of a bird-snare that lay on the sleigh, and, after straightening, + set it upright in a little hole in the ice, firming it down with his + mitten. It was almost as delicately adjusted as a compass-needle, and now + instead of listening they watched. The thin rod quivered a little—the + least little jar in the world; then it vibrated steadily for a few + seconds, came to rest, and vibrated again, this time nodding to another + point of the compass. + </p> + <p> + “Too soon!” said Kotuko. “Some big floe has broken far away outside.” + </p> + <p> + The girl pointed at the rod, and shook her head. “It is the big breaking,” + she said. “Listen to the ground-ice. It knocks.” + </p> + <p> + When they kneeled this time they heard the most curious muffled grunts and + knockings, apparently under their feet. Sometimes it sounded as though a + blind puppy were squeaking above the lamp; then as if a stone were being + ground on hard ice; and again, like muffled blows on a drum; but all + dragged out and made small, as though they travelled through a little horn + a weary distance away. + </p> + <p> + “We shall not go to Sedna lying down,” said Kotuko. “It is the breaking. + The tornaq has cheated us. We shall die.” + </p> + <p> + All this may sound absurd enough, but the two were face to face with a + very real danger. The three days’ gale had driven the deep water of + Baffin’s Bay southerly, and piled it on to the edge of the far-reaching + land-ice that stretches from Bylot’s Island to the west. Also, the strong + current which sets east out of Lancaster Sound carried with it mile upon + mile of what they call pack-ice—rough ice that has not frozen into + fields; and this pack was bombarding the floe at the same time that the + swell and heave of the storm-worked sea was weakening and undermining it. + What Kotuko and the girl had been listening to were the faint echoes of + that fight thirty or forty miles away, and the little tell-tale rod + quivered to the shock of it. + </p> + <p> + Now, as the Inuit say, when the ice once wakes after its long winter + sleep, there is no knowing what may happen, for solid floe-ice changes + shape almost as quickly as a cloud. The gale was evidently a spring gale + sent out of time, and anything was possible. + </p> + <p> + Yet the two were happier in their minds than before. If the floe broke up + there would be no more waiting and suffering. Spirits, goblins, and + witch-people were moving about on the racking ice, and they might find + themselves stepping into Sedna’s country side by side with all sorts of + wild Things, the flush of excitement still on them. When they left the hut + after the gale, the noise on the horizon was steadily growing, and the + tough ice moaned and buzzed all round them. + </p> + <p> + “It is still waiting,” said Kotuko. + </p> + <p> + On the top of a hummock sat or crouched the eight-legged Thing that they + had seen three days before—and it howled horribly. + </p> + <p> + “Let us follow,” said the girl. “It may know some way that does not lead + to Sedna”; but she reeled from weakness as she took the pulling-rope. The + Thing moved off slowly and clumsily across the ridges, heading always + toward the westward and the land, and they followed, while the growling + thunder at the edge of the floe rolled nearer and nearer. The floe’s lip + was split and cracked in every direction for three or four miles inland, + and great pans of ten-foot-thick ice, from a few yards to twenty acres + square, were jolting and ducking and surging into one another, and into + the yet unbroken floe, as the heavy swell took and shook and spouted + between them. This battering-ram ice was, so to speak, the first army that + the sea was flinging against the floe. The incessant crash and jar of + these cakes almost drowned the ripping sound of sheets of pack-ice driven + bodily under the floe as cards are hastily pushed under a tablecloth. + Where the water was shallow these sheets would be piled one atop of the + other till the bottommost touched mud fifty feet down, and the discoloured + sea banked behind the muddy ice till the increasing pressure drove all + forward again. In addition to the floe and the pack-ice, the gale and the + currents were bringing down true bergs, sailing mountains of ice, snapped + off from the Greenland side of the water or the north shore of Melville + Bay. They pounded in solemnly, the waves breaking white round them, and + advanced on the floe like an old-time fleet under full sail. A berg that + seemed ready to carry the world before it would ground helplessly in deep + water, reel over, and wallow in a lather of foam and mud and flying frozen + spray, while a much smaller and lower one would rip and ride into the flat + floe, flinging tons of ice on either side, and cutting a track half a mile + long before it was stopped. Some fell like swords, shearing a raw-edged + canal; and others splintered into a shower of blocks, weighing scores of + tons apiece, that whirled and skirted among the hummocks. Others, again, + rose up bodily out of the water when they shoaled, twisted as though in + pain, and fell solidly on their sides, while the sea threshed over their + shoulders. This trampling and crowding and bending and buckling and + arching of the ice into every possible shape was going on as far as the + eye could reach all along the north line of the floe. From where Kotuko + and the girl were, the confusion looked no more than an uneasy, rippling, + crawling movement under the horizon; but it came toward them each moment, + and they could hear, far away to landward a heavy booming, as it might + have been the boom of artillery through a fog. That showed that the floe + was being jammed home against the iron cliffs of Bylot’s Island, the land + to the southward behind them. + </p> + <p> + “This has never been before,” said Kotuko, staring stupidly. “This is not + the time. How can the floe break NOW?” + </p> + <p> + “Follow THAT!” the girl cried, pointing to the Thing half limping, half + running distractedly before them. They followed, tugging at the + hand-sleigh, while nearer and nearer came the roaring march of the ice. At + last the fields round them cracked and starred in every direction, and the + cracks opened and snapped like the teeth of wolves. But where the Thing + rested, on a mound of old and scattered ice-blocks some fifty feet high, + there was no motion. Kotuko leaped forward wildly, dragging the girl after + him, and crawled to the bottom of the mound. The talking of the ice grew + louder and louder round them, but the mound stayed fast, and, as the girl + looked at him, he threw his right elbow upward and outward, making the + Inuit sign for land in the shape of an island. And land it was that the + eight-legged, limping Thing had led them to—some granite-tipped, + sand-beached islet off the coast, shod and sheathed and masked with ice so + that no man could have told it from the floe, but at the bottom solid + earth, and not shifting ice! The smashing and rebound of the floes as they + grounded and splintered marked the borders of it, and a friendly shoal ran + out to the northward, and turned aside the rush of the heaviest ice, + exactly as a ploughshare turns over loam. There was danger, of course, + that some heavily squeezed ice-field might shoot up the beach, and plane + off the top of the islet bodily; but that did not trouble Kotuko and the + girl when they made their snow-house and began to eat, and heard the ice + hammer and skid along the beach. The Thing had disappeared, and Kotuko was + talking excitedly about his power over spirits as he crouched round the + lamp. In the middle of his wild sayings the girl began to laugh, and rock + herself backward and forward. + </p> + <p> + Behind her shoulder, crawling into the hut crawl by crawl, there were two + heads, one yellow and one black, that belonged to two of the most + sorrowful and ashamed dogs that ever you saw. Kotuko the dog was one, and + the black leader was the other. Both were now fat, well-looking, and quite + restored to their proper minds, but coupled to each other in an + extraordinary fashion. When the black leader ran off, you remember, his + harness was still on him. He must have met Kotuko the dog, and played or + fought with him, for his shoulder-loop had caught in the plaited copper + wire of Kotuko’s collar, and had drawn tight, so that neither could get at + the trace to gnaw it apart, but each was fastened sidelong to his + neighbour’s neck. That, with the freedom of hunting on their own account, + must have helped to cure their madness. They were very sober. + </p> + <p> + The girl pushed the two shamefaced creatures towards Kotuko, and, sobbing + with laughter, cried, “That is Quiquern, who led us to safe ground. Look + at his eight legs and double head!” + </p> + <p> + Kotuko cut them free, and they fell into his arms, yellow and black + together, trying to explain how they had got their senses back again. + Kotuko ran a hand down their ribs, which were round and well clothed. + “They have found food,” he said, with a grin. “I do not think we shall go + to Sedna so soon. My tornaq sent these. The sickness has left them.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as they had greeted Kotuko, these two, who had been forced to + sleep and eat and hunt together for the past few weeks, flew at each + other’s throat, and there was a beautiful battle in the snow-house. “Empty + dogs do not fight,” Kotuko said. “They have found the seal. Let us sleep. + We shall find food.” + </p> + <p> + When they waked there was open water on the north beach of the island, and + all the loosened ice had been driven landward. The first sound of the surf + is one of the most delightful that the Inuit can hear, for it means that + spring is on the road. Kotuko and the girl took hold of hands and smiled, + for the clear, full roar of the surge among the ice reminded them of + salmon and reindeer time and the smell of blossoming ground-willows. Even + as they looked, the sea began to skim over between the floating cakes of + ice, so intense was the cold; but on the horizon there was a vast red + glare, and that was the light of the sunken sun. It was more like hearing + him yawn in his sleep than seeing him rise, and the glare lasted for only + a few minutes, but it marked the turn of the year. Nothing, they felt, + could alter that. + </p> + <p> + Kotuko found the dogs fighting over a fresh-killed seal who was following + the fish that a gale always disturbs. He was the first of some twenty or + thirty seal that landed on the island in the course of the day, and till + the sea froze hard there were hundreds of keen black heads rejoicing in + the shallow free water and floating about with the floating ice. + </p> + <p> + It was good to eat seal-liver again; to fill the lamps recklessly with + blubber, and watch the flame blaze three feet in the air; but as soon as + the new sea-ice bore, Kotuko and the girl loaded the hand-sleigh, and made + the two dogs pull as they had never pulled in their lives, for they feared + what might have happened in their village. The weather was as pitiless as + usual; but it is easier to draw a sleigh loaded with good food than to + hunt starving. They left five-and-twenty seal carcasses buried in the ice + of the beach, all ready for use, and hurried back to their people. The + dogs showed them the way as soon as Kotuko told them what was expected, + and though there was no sign of a landmark, in two days they were giving + tongue outside Kadlu’s house. Only three dogs answered them; the others + had been eaten, and the houses were all dark. But when Kotuko shouted, + “Ojo!” (boiled meat), weak voices replied, and when he called the muster + of the village name by name, very distinctly, there were no gaps in it. + </p> + <p> + An hour later the lamps blazed in Kadlu’s house; snow-water was heating; + the pots were beginning to simmer, and the snow was dripping from the + roof, as Amoraq made ready a meal for all the village, and the boy-baby in + the hood chewed at a strip of rich nutty blubber, and the hunters slowly + and methodically filled themselves to the very brim with seal-meat. Kotuko + and the girl told their tale. The two dogs sat between them, and whenever + their names came in, they cocked an ear apiece and looked most thoroughly + ashamed of themselves. A dog who has once gone mad and recovered, the + Inuit say, is safe against all further attacks. + </p> + <p> + “So the tornaq did not forget us,” said Kotuko. “The storm blew, the ice + broke, and the seal swam in behind the fish that were frightened by the + storm. Now the new seal-holes are not two days distant. Let the good + hunters go to-morrow and bring back the seal I have speared—twenty-five + seal buried in the ice. When we have eaten those we will all follow the + seal on the floe.” + </p> + <p> + “What do YOU do?” said the sorcerer in the same sort of voice as he used + to Kadlu, richest of the Tununirmiut. + </p> + <p> + Kadlu looked at the girl from the North, and said quietly, “WE build a + house.” He pointed to the north-west side of Kadlu’s house, for that is + the side on which the married son or daughter always lives. + </p> + <p> + The girl turned her hands palm upward, with a little despairing shake of + her head. She was a foreigner, picked up starving, and could bring nothing + to the housekeeping. + </p> + <p> + Amoraq jumped from the bench where she sat, and began to sweep things into + the girl’s lap—stone lamps, iron skin-scrapers, tin kettles, + deer-skins embroidered with musk-ox teeth, and real canvas-needles such as + sailors use—the finest dowry that has ever been given on the far + edge of the Arctic Circle, and the girl from the North bowed her head down + to the very floor. + </p> + <p> + “Also these!” said Kotuko, laughing and signing to the dogs, who thrust + their cold muzzles into the girl’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said the angekok, with an important cough, as though he had been + thinking it all over. “As soon as Kotuko left the village I went to the + Singing-House and sang magic. I sang all the long nights, and called upon + the Spirit of the Reindeer. MY singing made the gale blow that broke the + ice and drew the two dogs toward Kotuko when the ice would have crushed + his bones. MY song drew the seal in behind the broken ice. My body lay + still in the quaggi, but my spirit ran about on the ice, and guided Kotuko + and the dogs in all the things they did. I did it.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody was full and sleepy, so no one contradicted; and the angekok, by + virtue of his office, helped himself to yet another lump of boiled meat, + and lay down to sleep with the others in the warm, well-lighted, + oil-smelling home. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Now Kotuko, who drew very well in the Inuit fashion, scratched pictures of + all these adventures on a long, flat piece of ivory with a hole at one + end. When he and the girl went north to Ellesmere Land in the year of the + Wonderful Open Winter, he left the picture-story with Kadlu, who lost it + in the shingle when his dog-sleigh broke down one summer on the beach of + Lake Netilling at Nikosiring, and there a Lake Inuit found it next spring + and sold it to a man at Imigen who was interpreter on a Cumberland Sound + whaler, and he sold it to Hans Olsen, who was afterward a quartermaster on + board a big steamer that took tourists to the North Cape in Norway. When + the tourist season was over, the steamer ran between London and Australia, + stopping at Ceylon, and there Olsen sold the ivory to a Cingalese jeweller + for two imitation sapphires. I found it under some rubbish in a house at + Colombo, and have translated it from one end to the other. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ‘ANGUTIVAUN TAINA’ + </h2> + <p> + [This is a very free translation of the Song of the Returning Hunter, as + the men used to sing it after seal-spearing. The Inuit always repeat + things over and over again.] + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Our gloves are stiff with the frozen blood, + Our furs with the drifted snow, + As we come in with the seal—the seal! + In from the edge of the floe. + + Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq! + And the yelping dog-teams go, + And the long whips crack, and the men come back, + Back from the edge of the floe! + + We tracked our seal to his secret place, + We heard him scratch below, + We made our mark, and we watched beside, + Out on the edge of the floe. + + We raised our lance when he rose to breathe, + We drove it downward—so! + And we played him thus, and we killed him thus, + Out on the edge of the floe. + + Our gloves are glued with the frozen blood, + Our eyes with the drifting snow; + But we come back to our wives again, + Back from the edge of the floe! + + Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq! + And the loaded dog-teams go, + And the wives can hear their men come back. + Back from the edge of the floe! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + RED DOG + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + For our white and our excellent nights—-for the nights of + swift running. + Fair ranging, far seeing, good hunting, sure cunning! + For the smells of the dawning, untainted, ere dew has departed! + For the rush through the mist, and the quarry blind-started! + For the cry of our mates when the sambhur has wheeled and is + standing at bay, + For the risk and the riot of night! + For the sleep at the lair-mouth by day, + It is met, and we go to the fight. + Bay! O Bay! +</pre> + <p> + It was after the letting in of the Jungle that the pleasantest part of + Mowgli’s life began. He had the good conscience that comes from paying + debts; all the Jungle was his friend, and just a little afraid of him. The + things that he did and saw and heard when he was wandering from one people + to another, with or without his four companions, would make many many + stories, each as long as this one. So you will never be told how he met + the Mad Elephant of Mandla, who killed two-and-twenty bullocks drawing + eleven carts of coined silver to the Government Treasury, and scattered + the shiny rupees in the dust; how he fought Jacala, the Crocodile, all one + long night in the Marshes of the North, and broke his skinning-knife on + the brute’s back-plates; how he found a new and longer knife round the + neck of a man who had been killed by a wild boar, and how he tracked that + boar and killed him as a fair price for the knife; how he was caught up + once in the Great Famine, by the moving of the deer, and nearly crushed to + death in the swaying hot herds; how he saved Hathi the Silent from being + once more trapped in a pit with a stake at the bottom, and how, next day, + he himself fell into a very cunning leopard-trap, and how Hathi broke the + thick wooden bars to pieces above him; how he milked the wild buffaloes in + the swamp, and how—— + </p> + <p> + But we must tell one tale at a time. Father and Mother Wolf died, and + Mowgli rolled a big boulder against the mouth of their cave, and cried the + Death Song over them; Baloo grew very old and stiff, and even Bagheera, + whose nerves were steel and whose muscles were iron, was a shade slower on + the kill than he had been. Akela turned from gray to milky white with pure + age; his ribs stuck out, and he walked as though he had been made of wood, + and Mowgli killed for him. But the young wolves, the children of the + disbanded Seeonee Pack, throve and increased, and when there were about + forty of them, masterless, full-voiced, clean-footed five-year-olds, Akela + told them that they ought to gather themselves together and follow the + Law, and run under one head, as befitted the Free People. + </p> + <p> + This was not a question in which Mowgli concerned himself, for, as he + said, he had eaten sour fruit, and he knew the tree it hung from; but when + Phao, son of Phaona (his father was the Gray Tracker in the days of + Akela’s headship), fought his way to the leadership of the Pack, according + to the Jungle Law, and the old calls and songs began to ring under the + stars once more, Mowgli came to the Council Rock for memory’s sake. When + he chose to speak the Pack waited till he had finished, and he sat at + Akela’s side on the rock above Phao. Those were days of good hunting and + good sleeping. No stranger cared to break into the jungles that belonged + to Mowgli’s people, as they called the Pack, and the young wolves grew fat + and strong, and there were many cubs to bring to the Looking-over. Mowgli + always attended a Looking-over, remembering the night when a black panther + bought a naked brown baby into the pack, and the long call, “Look, look + well, O Wolves,” made his heart flutter. Otherwise, he would be far away + in the Jungle with his four brothers, tasting, touching, seeing, and + feeling new things. + </p> + <p> + One twilight when he was trotting leisurely across the ranges to give + Akela the half of a buck that he had killed, while the Four jogged behind + him, sparring a little, and tumbling one another over for joy of being + alive, he heard a cry that had never been heard since the bad days of + Shere Khan. It was what they call in the Jungle the pheeal, a hideous kind + of shriek that the jackal gives when he is hunting behind a tiger, or when + there is a big killing afoot. If you can imagine a mixture of hate, + triumph, fear, and despair, with a kind of leer running through it, you + will get some notion of the pheeal that rose and sank and wavered and + quavered far away across the Waingunga. The Four stopped at once, + bristling and growling. Mowgli’s hand went to his knife, and he checked, + the blood in his face, his eyebrows knotted. + </p> + <p> + “There is no Striped One dare kill here,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “That is not the cry of the Forerunner,” answered Gray Brother. “It is + some great killing. Listen!” + </p> + <p> + It broke out again, half sobbing and half chuckling, just as though the + jackal had soft human lips. Then Mowgli drew deep breath, and ran to the + Council Rock, overtaking on his way hurrying wolves of the Pack. Phao and + Akela were on the Rock together, and below them, every nerve strained, sat + the others. The mothers and the cubs were cantering off to their lairs; + for when the pheeal cries it is no time for weak things to be abroad. + </p> + <p> + They could hear nothing except the Waingunga rushing and gurgling in the + dark, and the light evening winds among the tree-tops, till suddenly + across the river a wolf called. It was no wolf of the Pack, for they were + all at the Rock. The note changed to a long, despairing bay; and “Dhole!” + it said, “Dhole! dhole! dhole!” They heard tired feet on the rocks, and a + gaunt wolf, streaked with red on his flanks, his right fore-paw useless, + and his jaws white with foam, flung himself into the circle and lay + gasping at Mowgli’s feet. + </p> + <p> + “Good hunting! Under whose Headship?” said Phao gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Good hunting! Won-tolla am I,” was the answer. He meant that he was a + solitary wolf, fending for himself, his mate, and his cubs in some lonely + lair, as do many wolves in the south. Won-tolla means an Outlier—one + who lies out from any Pack. Then he panted, and they could see his + heart-beats shake him backward and forward. + </p> + <p> + “What moves?” said Phao, for that is the question all the Jungle asks + after the pheeal cries. + </p> + <p> + “The dhole, the dhole of the Dekkan—Red Dog, the Killer! They came + north from the south saying the Dekkan was empty and killing out by the + way. When this moon was new there were four to me—my mate and three + cubs. She would teach them to kill on the grass plains, hiding to drive + the buck, as we do who are of the open. At midnight I heard them together, + full tongue on the trail. At the dawn-wind I found them stiff in the grass—four, + Free People, four when this moon was new. Then sought I my Blood-Right and + found the dhole.” + </p> + <p> + “How many?” said Mowgli quickly; the Pack growled deep in their throats. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know. Three of them will kill no more, but at the last they + drove me like the buck; on my three legs they drove me. Look, Free + People!” + </p> + <p> + He thrust out his mangled fore-foot, all dark with dried blood. There were + cruel bites low down on his side, and his throat was torn and worried. + </p> + <p> + “Eat,” said Akela, rising up from the meat Mowgli had brought him, and the + Outlier flung himself on it. + </p> + <p> + “This shall be no loss,” he said humbly, when he had taken off the first + edge of his hunger. “Give me a little strength, Free People, and I also + will kill. My lair is empty that was full when this moon was new, and the + Blood Debt is not all paid.” + </p> + <p> + Phao heard his teeth crack on a haunch-bone and grunted approvingly. + </p> + <p> + “We shall need those jaws,” said he. “Were there cubs with the dhole?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay. Red Hunters all: grown dogs of their Pack, heavy and strong for + all that they eat lizards in the Dekkan.” + </p> + <p> + What Won-tolla had said meant that the dhole, the red hunting-dog of the + Dekkan, was moving to kill, and the Pack knew well that even the tiger + will surrender a new kill to the dhole. They drive straight through the + Jungle, and what they meet they pull down and tear to pieces. Though they + are not as big nor half as cunning as the wolf, they are very strong and + very numerous. The dhole, for instance, do not begin to call themselves a + pack till they are a hundred strong; whereas forty wolves make a very fair + pack indeed. Mowgli’s wanderings had taken him to the edge of the high + grassy downs of the Dekkan, and he had seen the fearless dholes sleeping + and playing and scratching themselves in the little hollows and tussocks + that they use for lairs. He despised and hated them because they did not + smell like the Free People, because they did not live in caves, and, above + all, because they had hair between their toes while he and his friends + were clean-footed. But he knew, for Hathi had told him, what a terrible + thing a dhole hunting-pack was. Even Hathi moves aside from their line, + and until they are killed, or till game is scarce, they will go forward. + </p> + <p> + Akela knew something of the dholes, too, for he said to Mowgli quietly, + “It is better to die in a Full Pack than leaderless and alone. This is + good hunting, and—my last. But, as men live, thou hast very many + more nights and days, Little Brother. Go north and lie down, and if any + live after the dhole has gone by he shall bring thee word of the fight.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Mowgli, quite gravely, “must I go to the marshes and catch + little fish and sleep in a tree, or must I ask help of the Bandar-log and + crack nuts, while the Pack fight below?” + </p> + <p> + “It is to the death,” said Akela. “Thou hast never met the dhole—the + Red Killer. Even the Striped One——” + </p> + <p> + “Aowa! Aowa!” said Mowgli pettingly. “I have killed one striped ape, and + sure am I in my stomach that Shere Khan would have left his own mate for + meat to the dhole if he had winded a pack across three ranges. Listen now: + There was a wolf, my father, and there was a wolf, my mother, and there + was an old gray wolf (not too wise: he is white now) was my father and my + mother. Therefore I—” he raised his voice, “I say that when the + dhole come, and if the dhole come, Mowgli and the Free People are of one + skin for that hunting; and I say, by the Bull that bought me—by the + Bull Bagheera paid for me in the old days which ye of the Pack do not + remember—<i>I</i> say, that the Trees and the River may hear and + hold fast if I forget; <i>I</i> say that this my knife shall be as a tooth + to the Pack—and I do not think it is so blunt. This is my Word which + has gone from me.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou dost not know the dhole, man with a wolf’s tongue,” said Won-tolla. + “I look only to clear the Blood Debt against them ere they have me in many + pieces. They move slowly, killing out as they go, but in two days a little + strength will come back to me and I turn again for the Blood Debt. But for + YE, Free People, my word is that ye go north and eat but little for a + while till the dhole are gone. There is no meat in this hunting.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear the Outlier!” said Mowgli with a laugh. “Free People, we must go + north and dig lizards and rats from the bank, lest by any chance we meet + the dhole. He must kill out our hunting-grounds, while we lie hid in the + north till it please him to give us our own again. He is a dog—and + the pup of a dog—red, yellow-bellied, lairless, and haired between + every toe! He counts his cubs six and eight at the litter, as though he + were Chikai, the little leaping rat. Surely we must run away, Free People, + and beg leave of the peoples of the north for the offal of dead cattle! Ye + know the saying: ‘North are the vermin; south are the lice. WE are the + Jungle.’ Choose ye, O choose. It is good hunting! For the Pack—for + the Full Pack—for the lair and the litter; for the in-kill and the + out-kill; for the mate that drives the doe and the little, little cub + within the cave; it is met!—it is met!—it is met!” + </p> + <p> + The Pack answered with one deep, crashing bark that sounded in the night + like a big tree falling. “It is met!” they cried. “Stay with these,” said + Mowgli to the Four. “We shall need every tooth. Phao and Akela must make + ready the battle. I go to count the dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “It is death!” Won-tolla cried, half rising. “What can such a hairless one + do against the Red Dog? Even the Striped One, remember——” + </p> + <p> + “Thou art indeed an Outlier,” Mowgli called back; “but we will speak when + the dholes are dead. Good hunting all!” + </p> + <p> + He hurried off into the darkness, wild with excitement, hardly looking + where he set foot, and the natural consequence was that he tripped full + length over Kaa’s great coils where the python lay watching a deer-path + near the river. + </p> + <p> + “Kssha!” said Kaa angrily. “Is this jungle-work, to stamp and tramp and + undo a night’s hunting—when the game are moving so well, too?” + </p> + <p> + “The fault was mine,” said Mowgli, picking himself up. “Indeed I was + seeking thee, Flathead, but each time we meet thou art longer and broader + by the length of my arm. There is none like thee in the Jungle, wise, old, + strong, and most beautiful Kaa.” + </p> + <p> + “Now whither does THIS trail lead?” Kaa’s voice was gentler. “Not a moon + since there was a Manling with a knife threw stones at my head and called + me bad little tree-cat names, because I lay asleep in the open.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and turned every driven deer to all the winds, and Mowgli was + hunting, and this same Flathead was too deaf to hear his whistle, and + leave the deer-roads free,” Mowgli answered composedly, sitting down among + the painted coils. + </p> + <p> + “Now this same Manling comes with soft, tickling words to this same + Flathead, telling him that he is wise and strong and beautiful, and this + same old Flathead believes and makes a place, thus, for this same + stone-throwing Manling, and—Art thou at ease now? Could Bagheera + give thee so good a resting-place?” + </p> + <p> + Kaa had, as usual, made a sort of soft half-hammock of himself under + Mowgli’s weight. The boy reached out in the darkness, and gathered in the + supple cable-like neck till Kaa’s head rested on his shoulder, and then he + told him all that had happened in the Jungle that night. + </p> + <p> + “Wise I may be,” said Kaa at the end; “but deaf I surely am. Else I should + have heard the pheeal. Small wonder the Eaters of Grass are uneasy. How + many be the dhole?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not yet seen. I came hot-foot to thee. Thou art older than Hathi. + But oh, Kaa,”—here Mowgli wriggled with sheerjoy,—“it will be + good hunting. Few of us will see another moon.” + </p> + <p> + “Dost THOU strike in this? Remember thou art a Man; and remember what Pack + cast thee out. Let the Wolf look to the Dog. THOU art a Man.” + </p> + <p> + “Last year’s nuts are this year’s black earth,” said Mowgli. “It is true + that I am a Man, but it is in my stomach that this night I have said that + I am a Wolf. I called the River and the Trees to remember. I am of the + Free People, Kaa, till the dhole has gone by.” + </p> + <p> + “Free People,” Kaa grunted. “Free thieves! And thou hast tied thyself into + the death-knot for the sake of the memory of the dead wolves? This is no + good hunting.” + </p> + <p> + “It is my Word which I have spoken. The Trees know, the River knows. Till + the dhole have gone by my Word comes not back to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ngssh! This changes all trails. I had thought to take thee away with me + to the northern marshes, but the Word—even the Word of a little, + naked, hairless Manling—is the Word. Now I, Kaa, say——” + </p> + <p> + “Think well, Flathead, lest thou tie thyself into the death-knot also. I + need no Word from thee, for well I know——” + </p> + <p> + “Be it so, then,” said Kaa. “I will give no Word; but what is in thy + stomach to do when the dhole come?” + </p> + <p> + “They must swim the Waingunga. I thought to meet them with my knife in the + shallows, the Pack behind me; and so stabbing and thrusting, we a little + might turn them down-stream, or cool their throats.” + </p> + <p> + “The dhole do not turn and their throats are hot,” said Kaa. “There will + be neither Manling nor Wolf-cub when that hunting is done, but only dry + bones.” + </p> + <p> + “Alala! If we die, we die. It will be most good hunting. But my stomach is + young, and I have not seen many Rains. I am not wise nor strong. Hast thou + a better plan, Kaa?” + </p> + <p> + “I have seen a hundred and a hundred Rains. Ere Hathi cast his milk-tushes + my trail was big in the dust. By the First Egg, I am older than many + trees, and I have seen all that the Jungle has done.” + </p> + <p> + “But THIS is new hunting,” said Mowgli. “Never before have the dhole + crossed our trail.” + </p> + <p> + “What is has been. What will be is no more than a forgotten year striking + backward. Be still while I count those my years.” + </p> + <p> + For a long hour Mowgli lay back among the coils, while Kaa, his head + motionless on the ground, thought of all that he had seen and known since + the day he came from the egg. The light seemed to go out of his eyes and + leave them like stale opals, and now and again he made little stiff passes + with his head, right and left, as though he were hunting in his sleep. + Mowgli dozed quietly, for he knew that there is nothing like sleep before + hunting, and he was trained to take it at any hour of the day or night. + </p> + <p> + Then he felt Kaa’s back grow bigger and broader below him as the huge + python puffed himself out, hissing with the noise of a sword drawn from a + steel scabbard. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen all the dead seasons,” Kaa said at last, “and the great trees + and the old elephants, and the rocks that were bare and sharp-pointed ere + the moss grew. Art THOU still alive, Manling?” + </p> + <p> + “It is only a little after moonset,” said Mowgli. “I do not understand——” + </p> + <p> + “Hssh! I am again Kaa. I knew it was but a little time. Now we will go to + the river, and I will show thee what is to be done against the dhole.” + </p> + <p> + He turned, straight as an arrow, for the main stream of the Waingunga, + plunging in a little above the pool that hid the Peace Rock, Mowgli at his + side. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, do not swim. I go swiftly. My back, Little Brother.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli tucked his left arm round Kaa’s neck, dropped his right close to + his body, and straightened his feet. Then Kaa breasted the current as he + alone could, and the ripple of the checked water stood up in a frill round + Mowgli’s neck, and his feet were waved to and fro in the eddy under the + python’s lashing sides. A mile or two above the Peace Rock the Waingunga + narrows between a gorge of marble rocks from eighty to a hundred feet + high, and the current runs like a mill-race between and over all manner of + ugly stones. But Mowgli did not trouble his head about the water; little + water in the world could have given him a moment’s fear. He was looking at + the gorge on either side and sniffing uneasily, for there was a + sweetish-sourish smell in the air, very like the smell of a big ant-hill + on a hot day. Instinctively he lowered himself in the water, only raising + his head to breathe from time to time, and Kaa came to anchor with a + double twist of his tail round a sunken rock, holding Mowgli in the hollow + of a coil, while the water raced on. + </p> + <p> + “This is the Place of Death,” said the boy. “Why do we come here?” + </p> + <p> + “They sleep,” said Kaa. “Hathi will not turn aside for the Striped One. + Yet Hathi and the Striped One together turn aside for the dhole, and the + dhole they say turn aside for nothing. And yet for whom do the Little + People of the Rocks turn aside? Tell me, Master of the Jungle, who is the + Master of the Jungle?” + </p> + <p> + “These,” Mowgli whispered. “It is the Place of Death. Let us go.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, look well, for they are asleep. It is as it was when I was not the + length of thy arm.” + </p> + <p> + The split and weatherworn rocks of the gorge of the Waingunga had been + used since the beginning of the Jungle by the Little People of the Rocks—the + busy, furious, black wild bees of India; and, as Mowgli knew well, all + trails turned off half a mile before they reached the gorge. For centuries + the Little People had hived and swarmed from cleft to cleft, and swarmed + again, staining the white marble with stale honey, and made their combs + tall and deep in the dark of the inner caves, where neither man nor beast + nor fire nor water had ever touched them. The length of the gorge on both + siaes was hung as it were with black shimmery velvet curtains, and Mowgli + sank as he looked, for those were the clotted millions of the sleeping + bees. There were other lumps and festoons and things like decayed + tree-trunks studded on the face of the rock, the old combs of past years, + or new cities built in the shadow of the windless gorge, and huge masses + of spongy, rotten trash had rolled down and stuck among the trees and + creepers that clung to the rock-face. As he listened he heard more than + once the rustle and slide of a honey-loaded comb turning over or failing + away somewhere in the dark galleries; then a booming of angry wings, and + the sullen drip, drip, drip, of the wasted honey, guttering along till it + lipped over some ledge in the open air and sluggishly trickled down on the + twigs. There was a tiny little beach, not five feet broad, on one side of + the river, and that was piled high with the rubbish of uncounted years. + There were dead bees, drones, sweepings, and stale combs, and wings of + marauding moths that had strayed in after honey, all tumbled in smooth + piles of the finest black dust. The mere sharp smell of it was enough to + frighten anything that had no wings, and knew what the Little People were. + </p> + <p> + Kaa moved up-stream again till he came to a sandy bar at the head of the + gorge. + </p> + <p> + “Here is this season’s kill,” said he. “Look!” On the bank lay the + skeletons of a couple of young deer and a buffalo. Mowgli could see that + neither wolf nor jackal had touched the hones, which were laid out + naturally. + </p> + <p> + “They came beyond the line; they did not know the Law,” murmured Mowgli, + “and the Little People killed them. Let us go ere they wake.” + </p> + <p> + “They do not wake till the dawn,” said Kaa. “Now I will tell thee. A + hunted buck from the south, many, many Rains ago, came hither from the + south, not knowing the Jungle, a Pack on his trail. Being made blind by + fear, he leaped from above, the Pack running by sight, for they were hot + and blind on the trail. The sun was high, and the Little People were many + and very angry. Many, too, were those of the Pack who leaped into the + Waingunga, but they were dead ere they took water. Those who did not leap + died also in the rocks above. But the buck lived.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he came first, running for his life, leaping ere the Little + People were aware, and was in the river when they gathered to kill. The + Pack, following, was altogether lost under the weight of the Little + People.” + </p> + <p> + “The buck lived?” Mowgli repeated slowly. + </p> + <p> + “At least he did not die THEN, though none waited his coming down with a + strong body to hold him safe against the water, as a certain old fat, + deaf, yellow Flathead would wait for a Manling—yea, though there + were all the dholes of the Dekkan on his trail. What is in thy stomach?” + Kaa’s head was close to Mowgli’s ear; and it was a little time before the + boy answered. + </p> + <p> + “It is to pull the very whiskers of Death, but—Kaa, thou art, + indeed, the wisest of all the Jungle.” + </p> + <p> + “So many have said. Look now, if the dhole follow thee——” + </p> + <p> + “As surely they will follow. Ho! ho! I have many little thorns under my + tongue to prick into their hides.” + </p> + <p> + “If they follow thee hot and blind, looking only at thy shoulders, those + who do not die up above will take water either here or lower down, for the + Little People will rise up and cover them. Now the Waingunga is hungry + water, and they will have no Kaa to hold them, but will go down, such as + live, to the shallows by the Seeonee Lairs, and there thy Pack may meet + them by the throat.” + </p> + <p> + “Ahai! Eowawa! Better could not be till the Rains fall in the dry season. + There is now only the little matter of the run and the leap. I will make + me known to the dholes, so that they shall follow me very closely.” + </p> + <p> + “Hast thou seen the rocks above thee? From the landward side?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, no. That I had forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Go look. It is all rotten ground, cut and full of holes. One of thy + clumsy feet set down without seeing would end the hunt. See, I leave thee + here, and for thy sake only I will carry word to the Pack that they may + know where to look for the dhole. For myself, I am not of one skin with + ANY wolf.” + </p> + <p> + When Kaa disliked an acquaintance he could be more unpleasant than any of + the Jungle People, except perhaps Bagheera. He swam down-stream, and + opposite the Rock he came on Phao and Akela listening to the night noises. + </p> + <p> + “Hssh! Dogs,” he said cheerfully. “The dholes will come down-stream. If ye + be not afraid ye can kill them in the shallows.” + </p> + <p> + “When come they?” said Phao. “And where is my Man-cub?” said Akela. + </p> + <p> + “They come when they come,” said Kaa. “Wait and see. As for THY Man-cub, + from whom thou hast taken a Word and so laid him open to Death, THY + Man-cub is with ME, and if he be not already dead the fault is none of + thine, bleached dog! Wait here for the dhole, and be glad that the Man-cub + and I strike on thy side.” + </p> + <p> + Kaa flashed up-stream again, and moored himself in the middle of the + gorge, looking upward at the line of the cliff. Presently he saw Mowgli’s + head move against the stars, and then there was a whizz in the air, the + keen, clean schloop of a body falling feet first, and next minute the boy + was at rest again in the loop of Kaa’s body. + </p> + <p> + “It is no leap by night,” said Mowgli quietly. “I have jumped twice as far + for sport; but that is an evil place above—low bushes and gullies + that go down very deep, all full of the Little People. I have put big + stones one above the other by the side of three gullies. These I shall + throw down with my feet in running, and the Little People will rise up + behind me, very angry.” + </p> + <p> + “That is Man’s talk and Man’s cunning,” said Kaa. “Thou art wise, but the + Little People are always angry.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, at twilight all wings near and far rest for a while. I will play + with the dhole at twilight, for the dhole hunts best by day. He follows + now Won-tolla’s blood-trail.” + </p> + <p> + “Chil does not leave a dead ox, nor the dhole the blood-trail,” said Kaa. + </p> + <p> + “Then I will make him a new blood-trail, of his own blood, if I can, and + give him dirt to eat. Thou wilt stay here, Kaa, till I come again with my + dholes?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but what if they kill thee in the Jungle, or the Little People kill + thee before thou canst leap down to the river?” + </p> + <p> + “When to-morrow comes we will kill for to-morrow,” said Mowgli, quoting a + Jungle saying; and again, “When I am dead it is time to sing the Death + Song. Good hunting, Kaa!” + </p> + <p> + He loosed his arm from the python’s neck and went down the gorge like a + log in a freshet, paddling toward the far bank, where he found + slack-water, and laughing aloud from sheer happiness. There was nothing + Mowgli liked better than, as he himself said, “to pull the whiskers of + Death,” and make the Jungle know that he was their overlord. He had often, + with Baloo’s help, robbed bees’ nests in single trees, and he knew that + the Little People hated the smell of wild garlic. So he gathered a small + bundle of it, tied it up with a bark string, and then followed Won-tolla’s + blood-trail, as it ran southerly from the Lairs, for some five miles, + looking at the trees with his head on one side, and chuckling as he + looked. + </p> + <p> + “Mowgli the Frog have I been,” said he to himself; “Mowgli the Wolf have I + said that I am. Now Mowgli the Ape must I be before I am Mowgli the Buck. + At the end I shall be Mowgli the Man. Ho!” and he slid his thumb along the + eighteen-inch blade of his knife. + </p> + <p> + Won-tolla’s trail, all rank with dark blood-spots, ran under a forest of + thick trees that grew close together and stretched away north-eastward, + gradually growing thinner and thinner to within two miles of the Bee + Rocks. From the last tree to the low scrub of the Bee Rocks was open + country, where there was hardly cover enough to hide a wolf. Mowgli + trotted along under the trees, judging distances between branch and + branch, occasionally climbing up a trunk and taking a trial leap from one + tree to another till he came to the open ground, which he studied very + carefully for an hour. Then he turned, picked up Won-tolla’s trail where + he had left it, settled himself in a tree with an outrunning branch some + eight feet from the ground, and sat still, sharpening his knife on the + sole of his foot and singing to himself. + </p> + <p> + A little before mid-day, when the sun was very warm, he heard the patter + of feet and smelt the abominable smell of the dhole-pack as they trotted + pitilessly along Won-tolla’s trail. Seen from above, the red dhole does + not look half the size of a wolf, but Mowgli knew how strong his feet and + jaws were. He watched the sharp bay head of the leader snuffing along the + trail, and gave him “Good hunting!” + </p> + <p> + The brute looked up, and his companions halted behind him, scores and + scores of red dogs with low-hung tails, heavy shoulders, weak quarters, + and bloody mouths. The dholes are a very silent people as a rule, and they + have no manners even in their own Jungle. Fully two hundred must have + gathered below him, but he could see that the leaders sniffed hungrily on + Won-tolla’s trail, and tried to drag the Pack forward. That would never + do, or they would be at the Lairs in broad daylight, and Mowgli meant to + hold them under his tree till dusk. + </p> + <p> + “By whose leave do ye come here?” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “All Jungles are our Jungle,” was the reply, and the dhole that gave it + bared his white teeth. Mowgli looked down with a smile, and imitated + perfectly the sharp chitter-chatter of Chikai, the leaping rat of the + Dekkan, meaning the dholes to understand that he considered them no better + than Chikai. The Pack closed up round the tree-trunk and the leader bayed + savagely, calling Mowgli a tree-ape. For an answer Mowgli stretched down + one naked leg and wriggled his bare toes just above the leader’s head. + That was enough, and more than enough, to wake the Pack to stupid rage. + Those who have hair between their toes do not care to be reminded of it. + Mowgli caught his foot away as the leader leaped up, and said sweetly: + “Dog, red dog! Go back to the Dekkan and eat lizards. Go to Chikai thy + brother—dog, dog—red, red dog! There is hair between every + toe!” He twiddled his toes a second time. + </p> + <p> + “Come down ere we starve thee out, hairless ape!” yelled the Pack, and + this was exactly what Mowgli wanted. He laid himself down along the + branch, his cheek to the bark, his right arm free, and there he told the + Pack what he thought and knew about them, their manners, their customs, + their mates, and their puppies. There is no speech in the world so + rancorous and so stinging as the language the Jungle People use to show + scorn and contempt. When you come to think of it you will see how this + must be so. As Mowgli told Kaa, he had many little thorns under his + tongue, and slowly and deliberately he drove the dholes from silence to + growls, from growls to yells, and from yells to hoarse slavery ravings. + They tried to answer his taunts, but a cub might as well have tried to + answer Kaa in a rage; and all the while Mowgli’s right hand lay crooked at + his side, ready for action, his feet locked round the branch. The big bay + leader had leaped many times in the air, but Mowgli dared not risk a false + blow. At last, made furious beyond his natural strength, he bounded up + seven or eight feet clear of the ground. Then Mowgli’s hand shot out like + the head of a tree-snake, and gripped him by the scruff of his neck, and + the branch shook with the jar as his weight fell back, almost wrenching + Mowgli to the ground. But he never loosed his grip, and inch by inch he + hauled the beast, hanging like a drowned jackal, up on the branch. With + his left hand he reached for his knife and cut off the red, bushy tail, + flinging the dhole back to earth again. That was all he needed. The Pack + would not go forward on Won-tolla’s trail now till they had killed Mowgli + or Mowgli had killed them. He saw them settle down in circles with a + quiver of the haunches that meant they were going to stay, and so he + climbed to a higher crotch, settled his back comfortably, and went to + sleep. + </p> + <p> + After three or four hours he waked and counted the Pack. They were all + there, silent, husky, and dry, with eyes of steel. The sun was beginning + to sink. In half an hour the Little People of the Rocks would be ending + their labours, and, as you know, the dhole does not fight best in the + twilight. + </p> + <p> + “I did not need such faithful watchers,” he said politely, standing up on + a branch, “but I will remember this. Ye be true dholes, but to my thinking + over much of one kind. For that reason I do not give the big lizard-eater + his tail again. Art thou not pleased, Red Dog?” + </p> + <p> + “I myself will tear out thy stomach!” yelled the leader, scratching at the + foot of the tree. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, but consider, wise rat of the Dekkan. There will now be many litters + of little tailless red dogs, yea, with raw red stumps that sting when the + sand is hot. Go home, Red Dog, and cry that an ape has done this. Ye will + not go? Come, then, with me, and I will make you very wise!” + </p> + <p> + He moved, Bandar-log fashion, into the next tree, and so on into the next + and the next, the Pack following with lifted hungry heads. Now and then he + would pretend to fall, and the Pack would tumble one over the other in + their haste to be at the death. It was a curious sight—the boy with + the knife that shone in the low sunlight as it sifted through the upper + branches, and the silent Pack with their red coats all aflame, huddling + and following below. When he came to the last tree he took the garlic and + rubbed himself all over carefully, and the dholes yelled with scorn. “Ape + with a wolf’s tongue, dost thou think to cover thy scent?” they said. “We + follow to the death.” + </p> + <p> + “Take thy tail,” said Mowgli, flinging it back along the course he had + taken. The Pack instinctively rushed after it. “And follow now—to + the death.” + </p> + <p> + He had slipped down the tree-trunk, and headed like the wind in bare feet + for the Bee Rocks, before the dholes saw what he would do. + </p> + <p> + They gave one deep howl, and settled down to the long, lobbing canter that + can at the last run down anything that runs. Mowgli knew their pack-pace + to be much slower than that of the wolves, or he would never have risked a + two-mile run in full sight. They were sure that the boy was theirs at + last, and he was sure that he held them to play with as he pleased. All + his trouble was to keep them sufficiently hot behind him to prevent their + turning off too soon. He ran cleanly, evenly, and springily; the tailless + leader not five yards behind him; and the Pack tailing out over perhaps a + quarter of a mile of ground, crazy and blind with the rage of slaughter. + So he kept his distance by ear, reserving his last effort for the rush + across the Bee Rocks. + </p> + <p> + The Little People had gone to sleep in the early twilight, for it was not + the season of late blossoming flowers; but as Mowgli’s first foot-falls + rang hollow on the hollow ground he heard a sound as though all the earth + were humming. Then he ran as he had never run in his life before, spurned + aside one—two—three of the piles of stones into the dark, + sweet-smelling gullies; heard a roar like the roar of the sea in a cave; + saw with the tail of his eye the air grow dark behind him; saw the current + of the Waingunga far below, and a flat, diamond-shaped head in the water; + leaped outward with all his strength, the tailless dhole snapping at his + shoulder in mid-air, and dropped feet first to the safety of the river, + breathless and triumphant. There was not a sting upon him, for the smell + of the garlic had checked the Little People for just the few seconds that + he was among them. When he rose Kaa’s coils were steadying him and things + were bounding over the edge of the cliff—great lumps, it seemed, of + clustered bees falling like plummets; but before any lump touched water + the bees flew upward and the body of a dhole whirled down-stream. Overhead + they could hear furious short yells that were drowned in a roar like + breakers—the roar of the wings of the Little People of the Rocks. + Some of the dholes, too, had fallen into the gullies that communicated + with the underground caves, and there choked and fought and snapped among + the tumbled honeycombs, and at last, borne up, even when they were dead, + on the heaving waves of bees beneath them, shot out of some hole in the + river-face, to roll over on the black rubbish-heaps. There were dholes who + had leaped short into the trees on the cliffs, and the bees blotted out + their shapes; but the greater number of them, maddened by the stings, had + flung themselves into the river; and, as Kaa said, the Waingunga was + hungry water. + </p> + <p> + Kaa held Mowgli fast till the boy had recovered his breath. + </p> + <p> + “We may not stay here,” he said. “The Little People are roused indeed. + Come!” + </p> + <p> + Swimming low and diving as often as he could, Mowgli went down the river, + knife in hand. + </p> + <p> + “Slowly, slowly,” said Kaa. “One tooth does not kill a hundred unless it + be a cobra’s, and many of the dholes took water swiftly when they saw the + Little People rise.” + </p> + <p> + “The more work for my knife, then. Phai! How the Little People follow!” + Mowgli sank again. The face of the water was blanketed with wild bees, + buzzing sullenly and stinging all they found. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing was ever yet lost by silence,” said Kaa—no sting could + penetrate his scales—“and thou hast all the long night for the + hunting. Hear them howl!” + </p> + <p> + Nearly half the pack had seen the trap their fellows rushed into, and + turning sharp aside had flung themselves into the water where the gorge + broke down in steep banks. Their cries of rage and their threats against + the “tree-ape” who had brought them to their shame mixed with the yells + and growls of those who had been punished by the Little People. To remain + ashore was death, and every dhole knew it. Their pack was swept along the + current, down to the deep eddies of the Peace Pool, but even there the + angry Little People followed and forced them to the water again. Mowgli + could hear the voice of the tailless leader bidding his people hold on and + kill out every wolf in Seeonee. But he did not waste his time in + listening. + </p> + <p> + “One kills in the dark behind us!” snapped a dhole. “Here is tainted + water!” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli had dived forward like an otter, twitched a struggling dhole under + water before he could open his mouth, and dark rings rose as the body + plopped up, turning on its side. The dholes tried to turn, but the current + prevented them, and the Little People darted at the heads and ears, and + they could hear the challenge of the Seeonee Pack growing louder and + deeper in the gathering darkness. Again Mowgli dived, and again a dhole + went under, and rose dead, and again the clamour broke out at the rear of + the pack; some howling that it was best to go ashore, others calling on + their leader to lead them back to the Dekkan, and others bidding Mowgli + show himself and be killed. + </p> + <p> + “They come to the fight with two stomachs and several voices,” said Kaa. + “The rest is with thy brethren below yonder, The Little People go back to + sleep. They have chased us far. Now I, too, turn back, for I am not of one + skin with any wolf. Good hunting, Little Brother, and remember the dhole + bites low.” + </p> + <p> + A wolf came running along the bank on three legs, leaping up and down, + laying his head sideways close to the ground, hunching his back, and + breaking high into the air, as though he were playing with his cubs. It + was Won-tolla, the Outlier, and he said never a word, but continued his + horrible sport beside the dholes. They had been long in the water now, and + were swimming wearily, their coats drenched and heavy, their bushy tails + dragging like sponges, so tired and shaken that they, too, were silent, + watching the pair of blazing eyes that moved abreast. + </p> + <p> + “This is no good hunting,” said one, panting. + </p> + <p> + “Good hunting!” said Mowgli, as he rose boldly at the brute’s side, and + sent the long knife home behind the shoulder, pushing hard to avoid his + dying snap. + </p> + <p> + “Art thou there, Man-cub?” said Won-tolla across the water. + </p> + <p> + “Ask of the dead, Outlier,” Mowgli replied. “Have none come down-stream? I + have filled these dogs’ mouths with dirt; I have tricked them in the broad + daylight, and their leader lacks his tail, but here be some few for thee + still. Whither shall I drive them?” + </p> + <p> + “I will wait,” said Won-tolla. “The night is before me.” + </p> + <p> + Nearer and nearer came the bay of the Seeonee wolves. “For the Pack, for + the Full Pack it is met!” and a bend in the river drove the dholes forward + among the sands and shoals opposite the Lairs. + </p> + <p> + Then they saw their mistake. They should have landed half a mile higher + up, and rushed the wolves on dry ground. Now it was too late. The bank was + lined with burning eyes, and except for the horrible pheeal that had never + stopped since sundown, there was no sound in the Jungle. It seemed as + though Won-tolla were fawning on them to come ashore; and “Turn and take + hold!” said the leader of the dholes. The entire Pack flung themselves at + the shore, threshing and squattering through the shoal water, till the + face of the Waingunga was all white and torn, and the great ripples went + from side to side, like bow-waves from a boat. Mowgli followed the rush, + stabbing and slicing as the dholes, huddled together, rushed up the + river-beach in one wave. + </p> + <p> + Then the long fight began, heaving and straining and splitting and + scattering and narrowing and broadening along the red, wet sands, and over + and between the tangled tree-roots, and through and among the bushes, and + in and out of the grass clumps; for even now the dholes were two to one. + But they met wolves fighting for all that made the Pack, and not only the + short, high, deep-chested, white-tusked hunters of the Pack, but the + anxious-eyed lahinis—the she-wolves of the lair, as the saying is—fighting + for their litters, with here and there a yearling wolf, his first coat + still half woolly, tugging and grappling by their sides. A wolf, you must + know, flies at the throat or snaps at the flank, while a dhole, by + preference, bites at the belly; so when the dholes were struggling out of + the water and had to raise their heads, the odds were with the wolves. On + dry land the wolves suffered; but in the water or ashore, Mowgli’s knife + came and went without ceasing. The Four had worried their way to his side. + Gray Brother, crouched between the boy’s knees, was protecting his + stomach, while the others guarded his back and either side, or stood over + him when the shock of a leaping, yelling dhole who had thrown himself full + on the steady blade bore him down. For the rest, it was one tangled + confusion—a locked and swaying mob that moved from right to left and + from left to right along the bank; and also ground round and round slowly + on its own centre. Here would be a heaving mound, like a water-blister in + a whirlpool, which would break like a water-blister, and throw up four or + five mangled dogs, each striving to get back to the centre; here would be + a single wolf borne down by two or three dholes, laboriously dragging them + forward, and sinking the while; here a yearling cub would be held up by + the pressure round him, though he had been killed early, while his mother, + crazed with dumb rage, rolled over and over, snapping, and passing on; and + in the middle of the thickest press, perhaps, one wolf and one dhole, + forgetting everything else, would be manoeuvring for first hold till they + were whirled away by a rush of furious fighters. Once Mowgli passed Akela, + a dhole on either flank, and his all but toothless jaws closed over the + loins of a third; and once he saw Phao, his teeth set in the throat of a + dhole, tugging the unwilling beast forward till the yearlings could finish + him. But the bulk of the fight was blind flurry and smother in the dark; + hit, trip, and tumble, yelp, groan, and worry-worry-worry, round him and + behind him and above him. As the night wore on, the quick, giddy-go-round + motion increased. The dholes were cowed and afraid to attack the stronger + wolves, but did not yet dare to run away. Mowgli felt that the end was + coming soon, and contented himself with striking merely to cripple. The + yearlings were growing bolder; there was time now and again to breathe, + and pass a word to a friend, and the mere flicker of the knife would + sometimes turn a dog aside. + </p> + <p> + “The meat is very near the bone,” Gray Brother yelled. He was bleeding + from a score of flesh-wounds. + </p> + <p> + “But the bone is yet to be cracked,” said Mowgli. “Eowawa! THUS do we do + in the Jungle!” The red blade ran like a flame along the side of a dhole + whose hind-quarters were hidden by the weight of a clinging wolf. + </p> + <p> + “My kill!” snorted the wolf through his wrinkled nostrils. “Leave him to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Is thy stomach still empty, Outlier?” said Mowgli. Won-tolla was + fearfully punished, but his grip had paralysed the dhole, who could not + turn round and reach him. + </p> + <p> + “By the Bull that bought me,” said Mowgli, with a bitter laugh, “it is the + tailless one!” And indeed it was the big bay-coloured leader. + </p> + <p> + “It is not wise to kill cubs and lahinis,” Mowgli went on philosophically, + wiping the blood out of his eyes, “unless one has also killed the Outlier; + and it is in my stomach that this Won-tolla kills thee.” + </p> + <p> + A dhole leaped to his leader’s aid; but before his teeth had found + Won-tolla’s flank, Mowgli’s knife was in his throat, and Gray Brother took + what was left. + </p> + <p> + “And thus do we do in the Jungle,” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + Won-tolla said not a word, only his jaws were closing and closing on the + backbone as his life ebbed. The dhole shuddered, his head dropped, and he + lay still, and Won-tolla dropped above him. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! The Blood Debt is paid,” said Mowgli. “Sing the song, Won-tolla.” + </p> + <p> + “He hunts no more,” said Gray Brother; “and Akela, too, is silent this + long time.” + </p> + <p> + “The bone is cracked!” thundered Phao, son of Phaona. “They go! Kill, kill + out, O hunters of the Free People!” + </p> + <p> + Dhole after dhole was slinking away from those dark and bloody sands to + the river, to the thick Jungle, up-stream or down-stream as he saw the + road clear. + </p> + <p> + “The debt! The debt!” shouted Mowgli. “Pay the debt! They have slain the + Lone Wolf! Let not a dog go!” + </p> + <p> + He was flying to the river, knife in hand, to check any dhole who dared to + take water, when, from under a mound of nine dead, rose Akela’s head and + fore-quarters, and Mowgli dropped on his knees beside the Lone Wolf. + </p> + <p> + “Said I not it would be my last fight?” Akela gasped. “It is good hunting. + And thou, Little Brother?” + </p> + <p> + “I live, having killed many.” + </p> + <p> + “Even so. I die, and I would—I would die by thee, Little Brother.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli took the terrible scarred head on his knees, and put his arms round + the torn neck. + </p> + <p> + “It is long since the old days of Shere Khan, and a Man-cub that rolled + naked in the dust.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay, I am a wolf. I am of one skin with the Free People,” Mowgli + cried. “It is no will of mine that I am a man.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou art a man, Little Brother, wolfling of my watching. Thou art a man, + or else the Pack had fled before the dhole. My life I owe to thee, and + to-day thou hast saved the Pack even as once I saved thee. Hast thou + forgotten? All debts are paid now. Go to thine own people. I tell thee + again, eye of my eye, this hunting is ended. Go to thine own people.” + </p> + <p> + “I will never go. I will hunt alone in the Jungle. I have said it.” + </p> + <p> + “After the summer come the Rains, and after the Rains comes the spring. Go + back before thou art driven.” + </p> + <p> + “Who will drive me?” + </p> + <p> + “Mowgli will drive Mowgli. Go back to thy people. Go to Man.” + </p> + <p> + “When Mowgli drives Mowgli I will go,” Mowgli answered. + </p> + <p> + “There is no more to say,” said Akela. “Little Brother, canst thou raise + me to my feet? I also was a leader of the Free People.” + </p> + <p> + Very carefully and gently Mowgli lifted the bodies aside, and raised Akela + to his feet, both arms round him, and the Lone Wolf drew a long breath, + and began the Death Song that a leader of the Pack should sing when he + dies. It gathered strength as he went on, lifting and lifting, and ringing + far across the river, till it came to the last “Good hunting!” and Akela + shook himself clear of Mowgli for an instant, and, leaping into the air, + fell backward dead upon his last and most terrible kill. + </p> + <p> + Mowgli sat with his head on his knees, careless of anything else, while + the remnant of the flying dholes were being overtaken and run down by the + merciless lahinis. Little by little the cries died away, and the wolves + returned limping, as their wounds stiffened, to take stock of the losses. + Fifteen of the Pack, as well as half a dozen lahinis, lay dead by the + river, and of the others not one was unmarked. And Mowgli sat through it + all till the cold daybreak, when Phao’s wet, red muzzle was dropped in his + hand, and Mowgli drew back to show the gaunt body of Akela. + </p> + <p> + “Good hunting!” said Phao, as though Akela were still alive, and then over + his bitten shoulder to the others: “Howl, dogs! A Wolf has died to-night!” + </p> + <p> + But of all the Pack of two hundred fighting dholes, whose boast was that + all jungles were their Jungle, and that no living thing could stand before + them, not one returned to the Dekkan to carry that word. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHIL’S SONG + </h2> + <p> + [This is the song that Chil sang as the kites dropped down one after + another to the river-bed, when the great fight was finished. Chil is good + friends with everybody, but he is a cold-blooded kind of creature at + heart, because he knows that almost everybody in the Jungle comes to him + in the long-run.] + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + These were my companions going forth by night— + (For Chil! Look you, for Chil!) + Now come I to whistle them the ending of the fight. + (Chil! Vanguards of Chil!) + Word they gave me overhead of quarry newly slain, + Word I gave them underfoot of buck upon the plain. + Here’s an end of every trail—they shall not speak again! + + They that called the hunting-cry—they that followed fast— + (For Chil! Look you, for Chil!) + They that bade the sambhur wheel, or pinned him as he passed— + (Chil! Vanguards of Chil!) + They that lagged behind the scent—they that ran before, + They that shunned the level horn—they that overbore. + Here’s an end of every trail—they shall not follow more. + These were my companions. Pity ‘twas they died! + (For Chil! Look you, for Chil!) + Now come I to comfort them that knew them in their pride. + (Chil! Vanguards of Chil!) + Tattered flank and sunken eye, open mouth and red, + Locked and lank and lone they lie, the dead upon their dead. + Here’s an end of every trail—and here my hosts are fed. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SPRING RUNNING + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Man goes to Man! Cry the challenge through the Jungle! + He that was our Brother goes away. + Hear, now, and judge, O ye People of the Jungle,— + Answer, who shall turn him—who shall stay? + + Man goes to Man! He is weeping in the Jungle: + He that was our Brother sorrows sore! + Man goes to Man! (Oh, we loved him in the Jungle!) + To the Man-Trail where we may not follow more. +</pre> + <p> + The second year after the great fight with Red Dog and the death of Akela, + Mowgli must have been nearly seventeen years old. He looked older, for + hard exercise, the best of good eating, and baths whenever he felt in the + least hot or dusty, had given him strength and growth far beyond his age. + He could swing by one hand from a top branch for half an hour at a time, + when he had occasion to look along the tree-roads. He could stop a young + buck in mid-gallop and throw him sideways by the head. He could even jerk + over the big, blue wild boars that lived in the Marshes of the North. The + Jungle People who used to fear him for his wits feared him now for his + strength, and when he moved quietly on his own affairs the mere whisper of + his coming cleared the wood-paths. And yet the look in his eyes was always + gentle. Even when he fought, his eyes never blazed as Bagheera’s did. They + only grew more and more interested and excited; and that was one of the + things that Bagheera himself did not understand. + </p> + <p> + He asked Mowgli about it, and the boy laughed and said. “When I miss the + kill I am angry. When I must go empty for two days I am very angry. Do not + my eyes talk then?” + </p> + <p> + “The mouth is hungry,” said Bagheera, “but the eyes say nothing. Hunting, + eating, or swimming, it is all one—like a stone in wet or dry + weather.” Mowgli looked at him lazily from under his long eyelashes, and, + as usual, the panther’s head dropped. Bagheera knew his master. + </p> + <p> + They were lying out far up the side of a hill overlooking the Waingunga, + and the morning mists hung below them in bands of white and green. As the + sun rose it changed into bubbling seas of red gold, churned off, and let + the low rays stripe the dried grass on which Mowgli and Bagheera were + resting. It was the end of the cold weather, the leaves and the trees + looked worn and faded, and there was a dry, ticking rustle everywhere when + the wind blew. A little leaf tap-tap-tapped furiously against a twig, as a + single leaf caught in a current will. It roused Bagheera, for he snuffed + the morning air with a deep, hollow cough, threw himself on his back, and + struck with his fore-paws at the nodding leaf above. + </p> + <p> + “The year turns,” he said. “The Jungle goes forward. The Time of New Talk + is near. That leaf knows. It is very good.” + </p> + <p> + “The grass is dry,” Mowgli answered, pulling up a tuft. “Even + Eye-of-the-Spring [that is a little trumpet-shaped, waxy red flower that + runs in and out among the grasses]—even Eye-of-the Spring is shut, + and... Bagheera, IS it well for the Black Panther so to lie on his back + and beat with his paws in the air, as though he were the tree-cat?” + </p> + <p> + “Aowh?” said Bagheera. He seemed to be thinking of other things. + </p> + <p> + “I say, IS it well for the Black Panther so to mouth and cough, and howl + and roll? Remember, we be the Masters of the Jungle, thou and I.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, yes; I hear, Man-cub.” Bagheera rolled over hurriedly and sat up, + the dust on his ragged black flanks. (He was just casting his winter + coat.) “We be surely the Masters of the Jungle! Who is so strong as + Mowgli? Who so wise?” There was a curious drawl in the voice that made + Mowgli turn to see whether by any chance the Black Panther were making fun + of him, for the Jungle is full of words that sound like one thing, but + mean another. “I said we be beyond question the Masters of the Jungle,” + Bagheera repeated. “Have I done wrong? I did not know that the Man-cub no + longer lay upon the ground. Does he fly, then?” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli sat with his elbows on his knees, looking out across the valley at + the daylight. Somewhere down in the woods below a bird was trying over in + a husky, reedy voice the first few notes of his spring song. It was no + more than a shadow of the liquid, tumbling call he would be pouring later, + but Bagheera heard it. + </p> + <p> + “I said the Time of New Talk is near,” growled the panther, switching his + tail. + </p> + <p> + “I hear,” Mowgli answered. “Bagheera, why dost thou shake all over? The + sun is warm.” + </p> + <p> + “That is Ferao, the scarlet woodpecker,” said Bagheera. “HE has not + forgotten. Now I, too, must remember my song,” and he began purring and + crooning to himself, harking back dissatisfied again and again. + </p> + <p> + “There is no game afoot,” said Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “Little Brother, are BOTH thine ears stopped? That is no killing-word, but + my song that I make ready against the need.” + </p> + <p> + “I had forgotten. I shall know when the Time of New Talk is here, because + then thou and the others all run away and leave me alone.” Mowgli spoke + rather savagely. + </p> + <p> + “But, indeed, Little Brother,” Bagheera began, “we do not always——” + </p> + <p> + “I say ye do,” said Mowgli, shooting out his forefinger angrily. “Ye DO + run away, and I, who am the Master of the Jungle, must needs walk alone. + How was it last season, when I would gather sugar-cane from the fields of + a Man-Pack? I sent a runner—I sent thee!—to Hathi, bidding him + to come upon such a night and pluck the sweet grass for me with his + trunk.” + </p> + <p> + “He came only two nights later,” said Bagheera, cowering a little; “and of + that long, sweet grass that pleased thee so he gathered more than any + Man-cub could eat in all the nights of the Rains. That was no fault of + mine.” + </p> + <p> + “He did not come upon the night when I sent him the word. No, he was + trumpeting and running and roaring through the valleys in the moonlight. + His trail was like the trail of three elephants, for he would not hide + among the trees. He danced in the moonlight before the houses of the + Man-Pack. I saw him, and yet he would not come to me; and <i>I</i> am the + Master of the Jungle!” + </p> + <p> + “It was the Time of New Talk,” said the panther, always very humble. + “Perhaps, Little Brother, thou didst not that time call him by a + Master-word? Listen to Ferao, and be glad!” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli’s bad temper seemed to have boiled itself away. He lay back with + his head on his arms, his eyes shut. “I do not know—nor do I care,” + he said sleepily. “Let us sleep, Bagheera. My stomach is heavy in me. Make + me a rest for my head.” + </p> + <p> + The panther lay down again with a sigh, because he could hear Ferao + practising and repractising his song against the Springtime of New Talk, + as they say. + </p> + <p> + In an Indian Jungle the seasons slide one into the other almost without + division. There seem to be only two—the wet and the dry; but if you + look closely below the torrents of rain and the clouds of char and dust + you will find all four going round in their regular ring. Spring is the + most wonderful, because she has not to cover a clean, bare field with new + leaves and flowers, but to drive before her and to put away the + hanging-on, over-surviving raffle of half-green things which the gentle + winter has suffered to live, and to make the partly-dressed stale earth + feel new and young once more. And this she does so well that there is no + spring in the world like the Jungle spring. + </p> + <p> + There is one day when all things are tired, and the very smells, as they + drift on the heavy air, are old and used. One cannot explain this, but it + feels so. Then there is another day—to the eye nothing whatever has + changed—when all the smells are new and delightful, and the whiskers + of the Jungle People quiver to their roots, and the winter hair comes away + from their sides in long, draggled locks. Then, perhaps, a little rain + falls, and all the trees and the bushes and the bamboos and the mosses and + the juicy-leaved plants wake with a noise of growing that you can almost + hear, and under this noise runs, day and night, a deep hum. THAT is the + noise of the spring—a vibrating boom which is neither bees, nor + falling water, nor the wind in tree-tops, but the purring of the warm, + happy world. + </p> + <p> + Up to this year Mowgli had always delighted in the turn of the seasons. It + was he who generally saw the first Eye-of-the-Spring deep down among the + grasses, and the first bank of spring clouds, which are like nothing else + in the Jungle. His voice could be heard in all sorts of wet, star-lighted, + blossoming places, helping the big frogs through their choruses, or + mocking the little upside-down owls that hoot through the white nights. + Like all his people, spring was the season he chose for his flittings—moving, + for the mere joy of rushing through the warm air, thirty, forty, or fifty + miles between twilight and the morning star, and coming back panting and + laughing and wreathed with strange flowers. The Four did not follow him on + these wild ringings of the Jungle, but went off to sing songs with other + wolves. The Jungle People are very busy in the spring, and Mowgli could + hear them grunting and screaming and whistling according to their kind. + Their voices then are different from their voices at other times of the + year, and that is one of the reasons why spring in the Jungle is called + the Time of New Talk. + </p> + <p> + But that spring, as he told Bagheera, his stomach was changed in him. Ever + since the bamboo shoots turned spotty-brown he had been looking forward to + the morning when the smells should change. But when the morning came, and + Mor the Peacock, blazing in bronze and blue and gold, cried it aloud all + along the misty woods, and Mowgli opened his mouth to send on the cry, the + words choked between his teeth, and a feeling came over him that began at + his toes and ended in his hair—a feeling of pure unhappiness, so + that he looked himself over to be sure that he had not trod on a thorn. + Mor cried the new smells, the other birds took it over, and from the rocks + by the Waingunga he heard Bagheera’s hoarse scream—something between + the scream of an eagle and the neighing of a horse. There was a yelling + and scattering of Bandar-log in the new-budding branches above, and there + stood Mowgli, his chest, filled to answer Mor, sinking in little gasps as + the breath was driven out of it by this unhappiness. + </p> + <p> + He stared all round him, but he could see no more than the mocking + Bandar-log scudding through the trees, and Mor, his tail spread in full + splendour, dancing on the slopes below. + </p> + <p> + “The smells have changed,” screamed Mor. “Good hunting, Little Brother! + Where is thy answer?” + </p> + <p> + “Little Brother, good hunting!” whistled Chil the Kite and his mate, + swooping down together. The two baffed under Mowgli’s nose so close that a + pinch of downy white feathers brushed away. + </p> + <p> + A light spring rain—elephant-rain they call it—drove across + the Jungle in a belt half a mile wide, left the new leaves wet and nodding + behind, and died out in a double rainbow and a light roll of thunder. The + spring hum broke out for a minute, and was silent, but all the Jungle Folk + seemed to be giving tongue at once. All except Mowgli. + </p> + <p> + “I have eaten good food,” he said to himself. “I have drunk good water. + Nor does my throat burn and grow small, as it did when I bit the + blue-spotted root that Oo the Turtle said was clean food. But my stomach + is heavy, and I have given very bad talk to Bagheera and others, people of + the Jungle and my people. Now, too, I am hot and now I am cold, and now I + am neither hot nor cold, but angry with that which I cannot see. Huhu! It + is time to make a running! To-night I will cross the ranges; yes, I will + make a spring running to the Marshes of the North, and back again. I have + hunted too easily too long. The Four shall come with me, for they grow as + fat as white grubs.” + </p> + <p> + He called, but never one of the Four answered. They were far beyond + earshot, singing over the spring songs—the Moon and Sambhur Songs—with + the wolves of the pack; for in the spring-time the Jungle People make very + little difference between the day and the night. He gave the sharp, + barking note, but his only answer was the mocking maiou of the little + spotted tree-cat winding in and out among the branches for early birds’ + nests. At this he shook all over with rage, and half drew his knife. Then + he became very haughty, though there was no one to see him, and stalked + severely down the hillside, chin up and eyebrows down. But never a single + one of his people asked him a question, for they were all too busy with + their own affairs. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mowgli to himself, though in his heart he knew that he had no + reason. “Let the Red Dhole come from the Dekkan, or the Red Flower dance + among the bamboos, and all the Jungle runs whining to Mowgli, calling him + great elephant-names. But now, because Eye-of-the-Spring is red, and Mor, + forsooth, must show his naked legs in some spring dance, the Jungle goes + mad as Tabaqui.... By the Bull that bought me! am I the Master of the + Jungle, or am I not? Be silent! What do ye here?” + </p> + <p> + A couple of young wolves of the Pack were cantering down a path, looking + for open ground in which to fight. (You will remember that the Law of the + Jungle forbids fighting where the Pack can see.) Their neck-bristles were + as stiff as wire, and they bayed furiously, crouching for the first + grapple. Mowgli leaped forward, caught one outstretched throat in either + hand, expecting to fling the creatures backward as he had often done in + games or Pack hunts. But he had never before interfered with a spring + fight. The two leaped forward and dashed him aside, and without word to + waste rolled over and over close locked. + </p> + <p> + Mowgli was on his feet almost before he fell, his knife and his white + teeth were bared, and at that minute he would have killed both for no + reason but that they were fighting when he wished them to be quiet, + although every wolf has full right under the Law to fight. He danced round + them with lowered shoulders and quivering hand, ready to send in a double + blow when the first flurry of the scuffle should be over; but while he + waited the strength seemed to ebb from his body, the knife-point lowered, + and he sheathed the knife and watched. + </p> + <p> + “I have surely eaten poison,” he sighed at last. “Since I broke up the + Council with the Red Flower—since I killed Shere Khan—none of + the Pack could fling me aside. And these be only tail-wolves in the Pack, + little hunters! My strength is gone from me, and presently I shall die. + Oh, Mowgli, why dost thou not kill them both?” + </p> + <p> + The fight went on till one wolf ran away, and Mowgli was left alone on the + torn and bloody ground, looking now at his knife, and now at his legs and + arms, while the feeling of unhappiness he had never known before covered + him as water covers a log. + </p> + <p> + He killed early that evening and ate but little, so as to be in good + fettle for his spring running, and he ate alone because all the Jungle + People were away singing or fighting. It was a perfect white night, as + they call it. All green things seemed to have made a month’s growth since + the morning. The branch that was yellow-leaved the day before dripped sap + when Mowgli broke it. The mosses curled deep and warm over his feet, the + young grass had no cutting edges, and all the voices of the Jungle boomed + like one deep harp-string touched by the moon—the Moon of New Talk, + who splashed her light full on rock and pool, slipped it between trunk and + creeper, and sifted it through a million leaves. Forgetting his + unhappiness, Mowgli sang aloud with pure delight as he settled into his + stride. It was more like flying than anything else, for he had chosen the + long downward slope that leads to the Northern Marshes through the heart + of the main Jungle, where the springy ground deadened the fall of his + feet. A man-taught man would have picked his way with many stumbles + through the cheating moonlight, but Mowgli’s muscles, trained by years of + experience, bore him up as though he were a feather. When a rotten log or + a hidden stone turned under his foot he saved himself, never checking his + pace, without effort and without thought. When he tired of ground-going he + threw up his hands monkey-fashion to the nearest creeper, and seemed to + float rather than to climb up into the thin branches, whence he would + follow a tree-road till his mood changed, and he shot downward in a long, + leafy curve to the levels again. There were still, hot hollows surrounded + by wet rocks where he could hardly breathe for the heavy scents of the + night flowers and the bloom along the creeper buds; dark avenues where the + moonlight lay in belts as regular as checkered marbles in a church aisle; + thickets where the wet young growth stood breast-high about him and threw + its arms round his waist; and hilltops crowned with broken rock, where he + leaped from stone to stone above the lairs of the frightened little foxes. + He would hear, very faint and far off, the chug-drug of a boar sharpening + his tusks on a bole; and would come across the great gray brute all alone, + scribing and rending the bark of a tall tree, his mouth dripping with + foam, and his eyes blazing like fire. Or he would turn aside to the sound + of clashing horns and hissing grunts, and dash past a couple of furious + sambhur, staggering to and fro with lowered heads, striped with blood that + showed black in the moonlight. Or at some rushing ford he would hear + Jacala the Crocodile bellowing like a bull, or disturb a twined knot of + the Poison People, but before they could strike he would be away and + across the glistening shingle, and deep in the Jungle again. + </p> + <p> + So he ran, sometimes shouting, sometimes singing to himself, the happiest + thing in all the Jungle that night, till the smell of the flowers warned + him that he was near the marshes, and those lay far beyond his farthest + hunting-grounds. + </p> + <p> + Here, again, a man-trained man would have sunk overhead in three strides, + but Mowgli’s feet had eyes in them, and they passed him from tussock to + tussock and clump to quaking clump without asking help from the eyes in + his head. He ran out to the middle of the swamp, disturbing the duck as he + ran, and sat down on a moss-coated tree-trunk lapped in the black water. + The marsh was awake all round him, for in the spring the Bird People sleep + very lightly, and companies of them were coming or going the night + through. But no one took any notice of Mowgli sitting among the tall reeds + humming songs without words, and looking at the soles of his hard brown + feet in case of neglected thorns. All his unhappiness seemed to have been + left behind in his own Jungle, and he was just beginning a full-throat + song when it came back again—ten times worse than before. + </p> + <p> + This time Mowgli was frightened. “It is here also!” he said half aloud. + “It has followed me,” and he looked over his shoulder to see whether the + It were not standing behind him. “There is no one here.” The night noises + of the marsh went on, but never a bird or beast spoke to him, and the new + feeling of misery grew. + </p> + <p> + “I have surely eaten poison,” he said in an awe-stricken voice. “It must + be that carelessly I have eaten poison, and my strength is going from me. + I was afraid—and yet it was not <i>I</i> that was afraid—Mowgli + was afraid when the two wolves fought. Akela, or even Phao, would have + silenced them; yet Mowgli was afraid. That is true sign I have eaten + poison.... But what do they care in the Jungle? They sing and howl and + fight, and run in companies under the moon, and I—Hai-mai!—I + am dying in the marshes, of that poison which I have eaten.” He was so + sorry for himself that he nearly wept. “And after,” he went on, “they will + find me lying in the black water. Nay, I will go back to my own Jungle, + and I will die upon the Council Rock, and Bagheera, whom I love, if he is + not screaming in the valley—Bagheera, perhaps, may watch by what is + left for a little, lest Chil use me as he used Akela.” + </p> + <p> + A large, warm tear splashed down on his knee, and, miserable as he was, + Mowgli felt happy that he was so miserable, if you can understand that + upside-down sort of happiness. “As Chil the Kite used Akela,” he repeated, + “on the night I saved the Pack from Red Dog.” He was quiet for a little, + thinking of the last words of the Lone Wolf, which you, of course, + remember. “Now Akela said to me many foolish things before he died, for + when we die our stomachs change. He said... None the less, I AM of the + Jungle!” + </p> + <p> + In his excitement, as he remembered the fight on Waingunga bank, he + shouted the last words aloud, and a wild buffalo-cow among the reeds + sprang to her knees, snorting, “Man!” + </p> + <p> + “Uhh!” said Mysa the Wild Buffalo (Mowgli could hear him turn in his + wallow), “THAT is no man. It is only the hairless wolf of the Seeonee + Pack. On such nights runs he to and fro.” + </p> + <p> + “Uhh!” said the cow, dropping her head again to graze, “I thought it was + Man.” + </p> + <p> + “I say no. Oh, Mowgli, is it danger?” lowed Mysa. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mowgli, is it danger?” the boy called back mockingly. “That is all + Mysa thinks for: Is it danger? But for Mowgli, who goes to and fro in the + Jungle by night, watching, what do ye care?” + </p> + <p> + “How loud he cries!” said the cow. “Thus do they cry,” Mysa answered + contemptuously, “who, having torn up the grass, know not how to eat it.” + </p> + <p> + “For less than this,” Mowgli groaned to himself, “for less than this even + last Rains I had pricked Mysa out of his wallow, and ridden him through + the swamp on a rush halter.” He stretched a hand to break one of the + feathery reeds, but drew it back with a sigh. Mysa went on steadily + chewing the cud, and the long grass ripped where the cow grazed. “I will + not die HERE,” he said angrily. “Mysa, who is of one blood with Jacala and + the pig, would see me. Let us go beyond the swamp and see what comes. + Never have I run such a spring running—hot and cold together. Up, + Mowgli!” + </p> + <p> + He could not resist the temptation of stealing across the reeds to Mysa + and pricking him with the point of his knife. The great dripping bull + broke out of his wallow like a shell exploding, while Mowgli laughed till + he sat down. + </p> + <p> + “Say now that the hairless wolf of the Seeonee Pack once herded thee, + Mysa,” he called. + </p> + <p> + “Wolf! THOU?” the bull snorted, stamping in the mud. “All the jungle knows + thou wast a herder of tame cattle—such a man’s brat as shouts in the + dust by the crops yonder. THOU of the Jungle! What hunter would have + crawled like a snake among the leeches, and for a muddy jest—a + jackal’s jest—have shamed me before my cow? Come to firm ground, and + I will—I will...” Mysa frothed at the mouth, for Mysa has nearly the + worst temper of any one in the Jungle. + </p> + <p> + Mowgli watched him puff and blow with eyes that never changed. When he + could make himself heard through the pattering mud, he said: “What + Man-Pack lair here by the marshes, Mysa? This is new Jungle to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Go north, then,” roared the angry bull, for Mowgli had pricked him rather + sharply. “It was a naked cow-herd’s jest. Go and tell them at the village + at the foot of the marsh.” + </p> + <p> + “The Man-Pack do not love jungle-tales, nor do I think, Mysa, that a + scratch more or less on thy hide is any matter for a council. But I will + go and look at this village. Yes, I will go. Softly now. It is not every + night that the Master of the Jungle comes to herd thee.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped out to the shivering ground on the edge of the marsh, well + knowing that Mysa would never charge over it and laughed, as he ran, to + think of the bull’s anger. + </p> + <p> + “My strength is not altogether gone,” he said. “It may be that the poison + is not to the bone. There is a star sitting low yonder.” He looked at it + between his half-shut hands. “By the Bull that bought me, it is the Red + Flower—the Red Flower that I lay beside before—before I came + even to the first Seeonee Pack! Now that I have seen, I will finish the + running.” + </p> + <p> + The marsh ended in a broad plain where a light twinkled. It was a long + time since Mowgli had concerned himself with the doings of men, but this + night the glimmer of the Red Flower drew him forward. + </p> + <p> + “I will look,” said he, “as I did in the old days, and I will see how far + the Man-Pack has changed.” + </p> + <p> + Forgetting that he was no longer in his own Jungle, where he could do what + he pleased, he trod carelessly through the dew-loaded grasses till he came + to the hut where the light stood. Three or four yelping dogs gave tongue, + for he was on the outskirts of a village. + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” said Mowgli, sitting down noiselessly, after sending back a deep + wolf-growl that silenced the curs. “What comes will come. Mowgli, what + hast thou to do any more with the lairs of the Man-Pack?” He rubbed his + mouth, remembering where a stone had struck it years ago when the other + Man-Pack had cast him out. + </p> + <p> + The door of the hut opened, and a woman stood peering out into the + darkness. A child cried, and the woman said over her shoulder, “Sleep. It + was but a jackal that waked the dogs. In a little time morning comes.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli in the grass began to shake as though he had fever. He knew that + voice well, but to make sure he cried softly, surprised to find how man’s + talk came back, “Messua! O Messua!” + </p> + <p> + “Who calls?” said the woman, a quiver in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “Hast thou forgotten?” said Mowgli. His throat was dry as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “If it be THOU, what name did I give thee? Say!” She had half shut the + door, and her hand was clutching at her breast. + </p> + <p> + “Nathoo! Ohe, Nathoo!” said Mowgli, for, as you remember, that was the + name Messua gave him when he first came to the Man-Pack. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my son,” she called, and Mowgli stepped into the light, and looked + full at Messua, the woman who had been good to him, and whose life he had + saved from the Man-Pack so long before. She was older, and her hair was + gray, but her eyes and her voice had not changed. Woman-like, she expected + to find Mowgli where she had left him, and her eyes travelled upward in a + puzzled way from his chest to his head, that touched the top of the door. + </p> + <p> + “My son,” she stammered; and then, sinking to his feet: “But it is no + longer my son. It is a Godling of the Woods! Ahai!” + </p> + <p> + As he stood in the red light of the oil-lamp, strong, tall, and beautiful, + his long black hair sweeping over his shoulders, the knife swinging at his + neck, and his head crowned with a wreath of white jasmine, he might easily + have been mistaken for some wild god of a jungle legend. The child half + asleep on a cot sprang up and shrieked aloud with terror. Messua turned to + soothe him, while Mowgli stood still, looking in at the water-jars and the + cooking-pots, the grain-bin, and all the other human belongings that he + found himself remembering so well. + </p> + <p> + “What wilt thou eat or drink?” Messua murmured. “This is all thine. We owe + our lives to thee. But art thou him I called Nathoo, or a Godling, + indeed?” + </p> + <p> + “I am Nathoo,” said Mowgli, “I am very far from my own place. I saw this + light, and came hither. I did not know thou wast here.” + </p> + <p> + “After we came to Khanhiwara,” Messua said timidly, “the English would + have helped us against those villagers that sought to burn us. Rememberest + thou?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I have not forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “But when the English Law was made ready, we went to the village of those + evil people, and it was no more to be found.” + </p> + <p> + “That also I remember,” said Mowgli, with a quiver of his nostril. + </p> + <p> + “My man, therefore, took service in the fields, and at last—for, + indeed, he was a strong man—we held a little land here. It is not so + rich as the old village, but we do not need much—we two.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he the man that dug in the dirt when he was afraid on that + night?” + </p> + <p> + “He is dead—a year.” + </p> + <p> + “And he?” Mowgli pointed to the child. + </p> + <p> + “My son that was born two Rains ago. If thou art a Godling, give him the + Favour of the Jungle, that he may be safe among thy—thy people, as + we were safe on that night.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted up the child, who, forgetting his fright, reached out to play + with the knife that hung on Mowgli’s chest, and Mowgli put the little + fingers aside very carefully. + </p> + <p> + “And if thou art Nathoo whom the tiger carried away,” Messua went on, + choking, “he is then thy younger brother. Give him an elder brother’s + blessing.” + </p> + <p> + “Hai-mai! What do I know of the thing called a blessing? I am neither a + Godling nor his brother, and—O mother, mother, my heart is heavy in + me.” He shivered as he set down the child. + </p> + <p> + “Like enough,” said Messua, bustling among the cooking-pots. “This comes + of running about the marshes by night. Beyond question, the fever had + soaked thee to the marrow.” Mowgli smiled a little at the idea of anything + in the Jungle hurting him. “I will make a fire, and thou shalt drink warm + milk. Put away the jasmine wreath: the smell is heavy in so small a + place.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli sat down, muttering, with his face in his hands. All manner of + strange feelings that he had never felt before were running over him, + exactly as though he had been poisoned, and he felt dizzy and a little + sick. He drank the warm milk in long gulps, Messua patting him on the + shoulder from time to time, not quite sure whether he were her son Nathoo + of the long ago days, or some wonderful Jungle being, but glad to feel + that he was at least flesh and blood. + </p> + <p> + “Son,” she said at last,—her eyes were full of pride,—“have + any told thee that thou art beautiful beyond all men?” + </p> + <p> + “Hah?” said Mowgli, for naturally he had never heard anything of the kind. + Messua laughed softly and happily. The look in his face was enough for + her. + </p> + <p> + “I am the first, then? It is right, though it comes seldom, that a mother + should tell her son these good things. Thou art very beautiful. Never have + I looked upon such a man.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli twisted his head and tried to see over his own hard shoulder, and + Messua laughed again so long that Mowgli, not knowing why, was forced to + laugh with her, and the child ran from one to the other, laughing too. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, thou must not mock thy brother,” said Messua, catching him to her + breast. “When thou art one-half as fair we will marry thee to the youngest + daughter of a king, and thou shalt ride great elephants.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli could not understand one word in three of the talk here; the warm + milk was taking effect on him after his long run, so he curled up and in a + minute was deep asleep, and Messua put the hair back from his eyes, threw + a cloth over him, and was happy. Jungle-fashion, he slept out the rest of + that night and all the next day; for his instincts, which never wholly + slept, warned him there was nothing to fear. He waked at last with a bound + that shook the hut, for the cloth over his face made him dream of traps; + and there he stood, his hand on his knife, the sleep all heavy in his + rolling eyes, ready for any fight. + </p> + <p> + Messua laughed, and set the evening meal before him. There were only a few + coarse cakes baked over the smoky fire, some rice, and a lump of sour + preserved tamarinds—just enough to go on with till he could get to + his evening kill. The smell of the dew in the marshes made him hungry and + restless. He wanted to finish his spring running, but the child insisted + on sitting in his arms, and Messua would have it that his long, blue-black + hair must be combed out. So she sang, as she combed, foolish little + baby-songs, now calling Mowgli her son, and now begging him to give some + of his jungle power to the child. The hut door was closed, but Mowgli + heard a sound he knew well, and saw Messua’s jaw drop with horror as a + great gray paw came under the bottom of the door, and Gray Brother outside + whined a muffled and penitent whine of anxiety and fear. + </p> + <p> + “Out and wait! Ye would not come when I called,” said Mowgli in + Jungle-talk, without turning his head, and the great gray paw disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Do not—do not bring thy—thy servants with thee,” said Messua. + “I—we have always lived at peace with the Jungle.” + </p> + <p> + “It is peace,” said Mowgli, rising. “Think of that night on the road to + Khanhiwara. There were scores of such folk before thee and behind thee. + But I see that even in springtime the Jungle People do not always forget. + Mother, I go.” + </p> + <p> + Messua drew aside humbly—he was indeed a wood-god, she thought; but + as his hand was on the door the mother in her made her throw her arms + round Mowgli’s neck again and again. + </p> + <p> + “Come back!” she whispered. “Son or no son, come back, for I love thee—Look, + he too grieves.” + </p> + <p> + The child was crying because the man with the shiny knife was going away. + </p> + <p> + “Come back again,” Messua repeated. “By night or by day this door is never + shut to thee.” + </p> + <p> + Mowgli’s throat worked as though the cords in it were being pulled, and + his voice seemed to be dragged from it as he answered, “I will surely come + back.” + </p> + <p> + “And now,” he said, as he put by the head of the fawning wolf on the + threshold, “I have a little cry against thee, Gray Brother. Why came ye + not all four when I called so long ago?” + </p> + <p> + “So long ago? It was but last night. I—we—were singing in the + Jungle the new songs, for this is the Time of New Talk. Rememberest thou?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly, truly.” + </p> + <p> + “And as soon as the songs were sung,” Gray Brother went on earnestly, “I + followed thy trail. I ran from all the others and followed hot-foot. But, + O Little Brother, what hast THOU done, eating and sleeping with the + Man-Pack?” + </p> + <p> + “If ye had come when I called, this had never been,” said Mowgli, running + much faster. + </p> + <p> + “And now what is to be?” said Gray Brother. Mowgli was going to answer + when a girl in a white cloth came down some path that led from the + outskirts of the village. Gray Brother dropped out of sight at once, and + Mowgli backed noiselessly into a field of high-springing crops. He could + almost have touched her with his hand when the warm, green stalks closed + before his face and he disappeared like a ghost. The girl screamed, for + she thought she had seen a spirit, and then she gave a deep sigh. Mowgli + parted the stalks with his hands and watched her till she was out of + sight. + </p> + <p> + “And now I do not know,” he said, sighing in his turn. “WHY did ye not + come when I called?” + </p> + <p> + “We follow thee—we follow thee,” Gray Brother mumbled, licking at + Mowgli’s heel. “We follow thee always, except in the Time of the New + Talk.” + </p> + <p> + “And would ye follow me to the Man-Pack?” Mowgli whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Did I not follow thee on the night our old Pack cast thee out? Who waked + thee lying among the crops?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but again?” + </p> + <p> + “Have I not followed thee to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but again and again, and it may be again, Gray Brother?” + </p> + <p> + Gray Brother was silent. When he spoke he growled to himself, “The Black + One spoke truth.” + </p> + <p> + “And he said?” + </p> + <p> + “Man goes to Man at the last. Raksha, our mother, said——” + </p> + <p> + “So also said Akela on the night of Red Dog,” Mowgli muttered. + </p> + <p> + “So also says Kaa, who is wiser than us all.” + </p> + <p> + “What dost thou say, Gray Brother?” + </p> + <p> + “They cast thee out once, with bad talk. They cut thy mouth with stones. + They sent Buldeo to slay thee. They would have thrown thee into the Red + Flower. Thou, and not I, hast said that they are evil and senseless. Thou, + and not I—I follow my own people—didst let in the Jungle upon + them. Thou, and not I, didst make song against them more bitter even than + our song against Red Dog.” + </p> + <p> + “I ask thee what THOU sayest?” + </p> + <p> + They were talking as they ran. Gray Brother cantered on a while without + replying, and then he said,—between bound and bound as it were,—“Man-cub—Master + of the Jungle—Son of Raksha, Lair-brother to me—though I + forget for a little while in the spring, thy trail is my trail, thy lair + is my lair, thy kill is my kill, and thy death-fight is my death-fight. I + speak for the Three. But what wilt thou say to the Jungle?” + </p> + <p> + “That is well thought. Between the sight and the kill it is not good to + wait. Go before and cry them all to the Council Rock, and I will tell them + what is in my stomach. But they may not come—in the Time of New Talk + they may forget me.” + </p> + <p> + “Hast thou, then, forgotten nothing?” snapped Gray Brother over his + shoulder, as he laid himself down to gallop, and Mowgli followed, + thinking. + </p> + <p> + At any other season the news would have called all the Jungle together + with bristling necks, but now they were busy hunting and fighting and + killing and singing. From one to another Gray Brother ran, crying, “The + Master of the Jungle goes back to Man! Come to the Council Rock.” And the + happy, eager People only answered, “He will return in the summer heats. + The Rains will drive him to lair. Run and sing with us, Gray Brother.” + </p> + <p> + “But the Master of the Jungle goes back to Man,” Gray Brother would + repeat. + </p> + <p> + “Eee—Yoawa? Is the Time of New Talk any less sweet for that?” they + would reply. So when Mowgli, heavy-hearted, came up through the + well-remembered rocks to the place where he had been brought into the + Council, he found only the Four, Baloo, who was nearly blind with age, and + the heavy, cold-blooded Kaa coiled around Akela’s empty seat. + </p> + <p> + “Thy trail ends here, then, Manling?” said Kaa, as Mowgli threw himself + down, his face in his hands. “Cry thy cry. We be of one blood, thou and I—man + and snake together.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did I not die under Red Dog?” the boy moaned. “My strength is gone + from me, and it is not any poison. By night and by day I hear a double + step upon my trail. When I turn my head it is as though one had hidden + himself from me that instant. I go to look behind the trees and he is not + there. I call and none cry again; but it is as though one listened and + kept back the answer. I lie down, but I do not rest. I run the spring + running, but I am not made still. I bathe, but I am not made cool. The + kill sickens me, but I have no heart to fight except I kill. The Red + Flower is in my body, my bones are water—and—I know not what I + know.” + </p> + <p> + “What need of talk?” said Baloo slowly, turning his head to where Mowgli + lay. “Akela by the river said it, that Mowgli should drive Mowgli back to + the Man-Pack. I said it. But who listens now to Baloo? Bagheera—where + is Bagheera this night?—he knows also. It is the Law.” + </p> + <p> + “When we met at Cold Lairs, Manling, I knew it,” said Kaa, turning a + little in his mighty coils. “Man goes to Man at the last, though the + Jungle does not cast him out.” + </p> + <p> + The Four looked at one another and at Mowgli, puzzled but obedient. + </p> + <p> + “The Jungle does not cast me out, then?” Mowgli stammered. + </p> + <p> + Gray Brother and the Three growled furiously, beginning, “So long as we + live none shall dare——” But Baloo checked them. + </p> + <p> + “I taught thee the Law. It is for me to speak,” he said; “and, though I + cannot now see the rocks before me, I see far. Little Frog, take thine own + trail; make thy lair with thine own blood and pack and people; but when + there is need of foot or tooth or eye, or a word carried swiftly by night, + remember, Master of the Jungle, the Jungle is thine at call.” + </p> + <p> + “The Middle Jungle is thine also,” said Kaa. “I speak for no small + people.” + </p> + <p> + “Hai-mai, my brothers,” cried Mowgli, throwing up his arms with a sob. “I + know not what I know! I would not go; but I am drawn by both feet. How + shall I leave these nights?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, look up, Little Brother,” Baloo repeated. “There is no shame in this + hunting. When the honey is eaten we leave the empty hive.” + </p> + <p> + “Having cast the skin,” said Kaa, “we may not creep into it afresh. It is + the Law.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, dearest of all to me,” said Baloo. There is neither word nor will + here to hold thee back. Look up! Who may question the Master of the + Jungle? I saw thee playing among the white pebbles yonder when thou wast a + little frog; and Bagheera, that bought thee for the price of a young bull + newly killed, saw thee also. Of that Looking Over we two only remain; for + Raksha, thy lair-mother, is dead with thy lair-father; the old Wolf-Pack + is long since dead; thou knowest whither Shere Khan went, and Akela died + among the dholes, where, but for thy wisdom and strength, the second + Seeonee Pack would also have died. There remains nothing but old bones. It + is no longer the Man-cub that asks leave of his Pack, but the Master of + the Jungle that changes his trail. Who shall question Man in his ways?” + </p> + <p> + “But Bagheera and the Bull that bought me,” said Mowgli. “I would not——” + </p> + <p> + His words were cut short by a roar and a crash in the thicket below, and + Bagheera, light, strong, and terrible as always, stood before him. + </p> + <p> + “Therefore,” he said, stretching out a dripping right paw, “I did not + come. It was a long hunt, but he lies dead in the bushes now—a bull + in his second year—the Bull that frees thee, Little Brother. All + debts are paid now. For the rest, my word is Baloo’s word.” He licked + Mowgli’s foot. “Remember, Bagheera loved thee,” he cried, and bounded + away. At the foot of the hill he cried again long and loud, “Good hunting + on a new trail, Master of the Jungle! Remember, Bagheera loved thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou hast heard,” said Baloo. “There is no more. Go now; but first come + to me. O wise Little Frog, come to me!” + </p> + <p> + “It is hard to cast the skin,” said Kaa as Mowgli sobbed and sobbed, with + his head on the blind bear’s side and his arms round his neck, while Baloo + tried feebly to lick his feet. + </p> + <p> + “The stars are thin,” said Gray Brother, snuffing at the dawn wind. “Where + shall we lair to-day? for from now, we follow new trails.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + And this is the last of the Mowgli stories. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE OUTSONG + </h2> + <p> + [This is the song that Mowgli heard behind him in the Jungle till he came + to Messua’s door again.] + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Baloo + + For the sake of him who showed + One wise Frog the Jungle-Road, + Keep the Law the Man-Pack make— + For thy blind old Baloo’s sake! + Clean or tainted, hot or stale, + Hold it as it were the Trail, + Through the day and through the night, + Questing neither left nor right. + For the sake of him who loves + Thee beyond all else that moves, + When thy Pack would make thee pain, + Say: “Tabaqui sings again.” + When thy Pack would work thee ill, + Say: “Shere Khan is yet to kill.” + When the knife is drawn to slay, + Keep the Law and go thy way. + (Root and honey, palm and spathe, + Guard a cub from harm and scathe!) + Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, + Jungle-Favour go with thee! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Kaa + + Anger is the egg of Fear— + Only lidless eyes are clear. + Cobra-poison none may leech. + Even so with Cobra-speech. + Open talk shall call to thee + Strength, whose mate is Courtesy. + Send no lunge beyond thy length; + Lend no rotten bough thy strength. + Gauge thy gape with buck or goat, + Lest thine eye should choke thy throat, + After gorging, wouldst thou sleep? + Look thy den is hid and deep, + Lest a wrong, by thee forgot, + Draw thy killer to the spot. + East and West and North and South, + Wash thy hide and close thy mouth. + (Pit and rift and blue pool-brim, + Middle-Jungle follow him!) + Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, + Jungle-Favour go with thee! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Bagheera + + In the cage my life began; + Well I know the worth of Man. + By the Broken Lock that freed— + Man-cub, ‘ware the Man-cub’s breed! + Scenting-dew or starlight pale, + Choose no tangled tree-cat trail. + Pack or council, hunt or den, + Cry no truce with Jackal-Men. + Feed them silence when they say: + “Come with us an easy way.” + Feed them silence when they seek + Help of thine to hurt the weak. + Make no banaar’s boast of skill; + Hold thy peace above the kill. + Let nor call nor song nor sign + Turn thee from thy hunting-line. + (Morning mist or twilight clear, + Serve him, Wardens of the Deer!) + Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, + Jungle-Favour go with thee! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Three + + On the trail that thou must tread + To the thresholds of our dread, + Where the Flower blossoms red; + Through the nights when thou shalt lie + Prisoned from our Mother-sky, + Hearing us, thy loves, go by; + In the dawns when thou shalt wake + To the toil thou canst not break, + Heartsick for the Jungle’s sake: + Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, + Wisdom, Strength, and Courtesy, + Jungle-Favour go with thee! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s The Second Jungle Book, by Rudyard Kipling + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECOND JUNGLE BOOK *** + +***** This file should be named 1937-h.htm or 1937-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/1937/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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