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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 + +Illustrator: John Lockwood Kipling + +Release Date: September 9, 2011 [EBook #37364] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECOND JUNGLE BOOK *** + + + + +Produced by Melissa McDaniel, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="tnbox"> +<p>Transcriber's note:</p> + +<p>Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have +been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="423" height="650" alt="Cover" /> +</div> + +<h1 class="p6">THE<br /> +SECOND JUNGLE BOOK</h1> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/crossa.png" width="150" height="147" alt="Signature Logo" /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/fm_1.png" width="700" height="186" alt="Title Page 1" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b2">THE</p> +<p class="center b2">SECOND JUNGLE BOOK</p> + +<p class="center">BY</p> +<p class="center b2">RUDYARD KIPLING</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/fm_2.png" width="305" height="337" alt="Title Page 2" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">DECORATED BY</p> +<p class="center">JOHN LOCKWOOD KIPLING, C.I.E.</p> + +<p class="center p2">NEW YORK</p> +<p class="center">THE CENTURY CO.</p> +<p class="center">1906</p> + +<p class="center p6">Copyright, 1895, by <span class="smcap">The Century Co.</span></p> +<hr class="l15" /> +<p class="center s1">How Fear Came, The Law of the Jungle;<br /> +The Miracle of Purun Bhagat, a Song of Kabir;<br /> +The Undertakers, a Ripple-song.<br /> +Copyright, 1894, by Bacheller, Johnson & Bacheller.</p> + +<p class="center s1">Quiquern, "Angutivun tina."<br /> +Copyright, 1895, by Irving Bacheller.</p> + +<p class="center s1">The Spring Running, The Outsong.<br /> +Copyright, 1895, by John Brisben Walker.</p> + +<p class="center s1">Letting in the Jungle, Mowgli's Song Against People.<br /> +Copyright, 1894, by Rudyard Kipling.</p> + +<p class="center s1">Red Dog, Chil's Song.<br /> +Copyright, 1895, by Rudyard Kipling.</p> + +<p class="center s1">The King's Ankus, The Song of the Little Hunter.<br /> +Copyright, 1895, by The Century Co.</p> + +<p class="center p6 s1">THE DE VINNE PRESS.</p> + +<div class="poem p6"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Now these are the Laws of the Jungle,</i></span> +<span class="i1"><i>and many and mighty are they;</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>But the head and the hoof of the Law</i></span> +<span class="i1"><i>and the haunch and the hump is—Obey!</i>"</span> +</p></div> + +<p class="p6 center b1">CONTENTS</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="2" summary="table of contents"> +<col width="300" /> +<col width="300" /> +<tr> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr s1">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">How Fear Came</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="i1 smcap">The Law of the Jungle</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_29">29</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Miracle of Purun Bhagat</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_33">33</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="i1 smcap">A Song of Kabir</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_61">61</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Letting in the Jungle</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_63">63</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="i1 smcap">Mowgli's Song Against People</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_112">112</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Undertakers</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_115">115</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="i1 smcap">A Ripple-song</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_155">155</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The King's Ankus</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_157">157</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="i1 smcap">The Song of the Little Hunter</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_191">191</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Quiquern</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_193">193</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="i1 smcap">"Angutivun tina</span>"</td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_234">234</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Red Dog</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_237">237</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="i1 smcap">Chil's Song</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_281">281</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Spring Running</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_283">283</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="i1 smcap">The Outsong</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#page_321">321</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center p6 b1">THE<br /> +SECOND JUNGLE BOOK</p> + +<div class="poem p6"> +<p class="stanza"><span class="i0">The stream is shrunk—the pool is dry,</span> +<span class="i0">And we be comrades, thou and I;</span> +<span class="i0">With fevered jowl and sunken flank</span> +<span class="i0">Each jostling each along the bank;</span> +<span class="i0">And, by one drouthy fear made still,</span> +<span class="i0">Foregoing thought of quest or kill.</span> +<span class="i0">Now 'neath his dam the fawn may see</span> +<span class="i0">The lean Pack-wolf as cowed as he,</span> +<span class="i0">And the tall buck, unflinching, note</span> +<span class="i0">The fangs that tore his father's throat.</span> +<span class="i0"><i>The pools are shrunk—the streams are dry,</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And we be playmates, thou and I,</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Till yonder cloud—Good Hunting!—loose</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The rain that breaks the Water Truce.</i></span></p></div> + +<p class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">[Pg 1]</a></p> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus001.png" width="700" height="270" alt="How Fear Came" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p2">HOW FEAR CAME</p> + +<p> +<img src="images/drop_t001.png" alt="T" width="200" height="190" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>he 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. +If you have read the other book about Mowgli, +you will remember that he 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +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 <i>now</i>," 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +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 <i>mohwa</i> blooms."</p> + +<p>That spring the <i>mohwa</i> tree, that Baloo was +so fond of, never flowered. The greeny, cream-colored, +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +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 center 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +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 color 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 <i>mohwa</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +stand alone, but—indeed we be no fatted bullocks, +we too."</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. <i>Wou!</i>"</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 further 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 +colorless 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +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, and 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 down 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 +<i>very</i> 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. <i>Ngaayah!</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +Would I could get good from chewing +branches!"</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> 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 favor," and he looked keenly +through the darkness to make sure of recognizing +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +plows," 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 <i>thy</i> 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. <i>Never</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +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 whisker 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 bank; then he dropped his square, frilled +head and began 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +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. <i>Aurgh!</i>"</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 toward 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +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 <i>always</i> 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 and +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +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 down, +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 color all over +like the blossom of the yellow creeper. There was +never stripe nor bar upon his hide in those good<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +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 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +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.' 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +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. <i>And +those stripes do his children wear to this day!</i> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +that flickered along the ridges—and +Hathi went on: "<i>That</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +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>"<i>Ahi! Aoo!</i>" 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. <i>Then</i> he springs from behind and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +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. "<i>Now</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +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 <i>eat</i>. 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 <i>thou</i> 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> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus028.png" width="350" height="217" alt="End of How Fear Came" /> +</div> + +<p class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">[Pg 29]</a></p> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus029.png" width="700" height="248" alt="Law of the Jungle" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p2">THE LAW OF THE JUNGLE</p> + +<p><img src="images/drop_j029.png" width="158" height="200" alt="J" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>ust 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> + +<div class="poem wide"> +<p class="p4 stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Now this is the Law of the Jungle—as old and as true as the sky;</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die.</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back—</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.</i></span></p> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem wide"> +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0">Wash daily from nose-tip to tail-tip; drink deeply, but never too deep;</span> +<span class="i0">And remember the night is for hunting, and forget not the day is for sleep.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Jackal may follow the Tiger, but, Cub, when thy whiskers are grown,</span> +<span class="i0">Remember the Wolf is a hunter—go forth and get food of thine own.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Keep peace with the Lords of the Jungle—the Tiger, the Panther, the Bear;</span> +<span class="i0">And trouble not Hathi the Silent, and mock not the Boar in his lair.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Pack meets with Pack in the Jungle, and neither will go from the trail,</span> +<span class="i0">Lie down till the leaders have spoken—it may be fair words shall prevail.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When ye fight with a Wolf of the Pack, ye must fight him alone and afar,</span> +<span class="i0">Lest others take part in the quarrel, and the Pack be diminished by war.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, and where he has made him his home,</span> +<span class="i0">Not even the Head Wolf may enter, not even the Council may come.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, but where he has digged it too plain,</span> +<span class="i0">The Council shall send him a message, and so he shall change it again.</span></p> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem wide"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If ye kill before midnight, be silent, and wake not the woods with your bay,</span> +<span class="i0">Lest ye frighten the deer from the crops, and the brothers go empty away.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates, and your cubs as they need, and ye can;</span> +<span class="i0">But kill not for pleasure of killing, and <i>seven times never kill Man</i>.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If ye plunder his Kill from a weaker, devour not all in thy pride;</span> +<span class="i0">Pack-Right is the right of the meanest; so leave him the head and the hide.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Kill of the Pack is the meat of the Pack. Ye must eat where it lies;</span> +<span class="i0">And no one may carry away of that meat to his lair, or he dies.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Kill of the Wolf is the meat of the Wolf. He may do what he will,</span> +<span class="i0">But, till he has given permission, the Pack may not eat of that Kill.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cub-Right is the right of the Yearling. From all of his Pack he may claim</span> +<span class="i0">Full-gorge when the killer has eaten; and none may refuse him the same.</span></p> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem wide"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lair-Right is the right of the Mother. From all of her year she may claim</span> +<span class="i0">One haunch of each kill for her litter, and none may deny her the same.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cave-Right is the right of the Father—to hunt by himself for his own:</span> +<span class="i0">He is freed of all calls to the Pack; he is judged by the Council alone.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Because of his age and his cunning, because of his gripe and his paw,</span> +<span class="i0">In all that the Law leaveth open, the word of the Head Wolf is Law.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Now these are the Laws of the Jungle, and many and mighty are they;</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>But the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch and the hump is—Obey!</i></span> +</p></div> + +<a name="page_33" id="page_33"></a> +<p class="pagenum"></p> +<p class="center b1 p6">THE MIRACLE OF PURUN BHAGAT</p> + +<div class="poem p6"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The night we felt the earth would move</span> +<span class="i1">We stole and plucked him by the hand,</span> +<span class="i0">Because we loved him with the love</span> +<span class="i1">That knows but cannot understand.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when the roaring hillside broke,</span> +<span class="i1">And all our world fell down in rain,</span> +<span class="i0">We saved him, we the Little Folk;</span> +<span class="i1">But lo! he does not come again!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mourn now, we saved him for the sake</span> +<span class="i1">Of such poor love as wild ones may.</span> +<span class="i0">Mourn ye! Our brother will not wake,</span> +<span class="i1">And his own kind drive us away!</span> +<span class="i10"><i>Dirge of the Langurs.</i></span> +</p></div> + +<p class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">[Pg 35]</a></p> +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus035.png" width="700" height="260" alt="Miracle of Purun Bhagat" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p2">THE MIRACLE OF PURUN BHAGAT</p> + +<p><img src="images/drop_t035.png" alt="T" width="156" height="200" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>here was once a man in +India who was Prime Minister +of one of the semi-independent +native States in +the northwestern 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-colored 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +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 +favor. 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 honored friend of Viceroys +and Governors, and Lieutenant-Governors, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +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 traveled 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +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 +sunbaked quiet, he did a thing no Englishman +would have dreamed of doing; for, so far as the +world's affairs went, he died. The jeweled 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 ocher-colored dress of a Sunnyasi +or holy man, was considered nothing extraordinary. +He had been, as the Old Law recommends,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +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 +honor when it came his way; he had seen men +and cities far and near, and men and cities had +stood up and honored him. Now he would let +these 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 <i>coco-de-mer</i> in his hand, barefoot, alone, with +eyes cast on the ground—behind him they were +firing salutes from the bastions in honor 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 colorless dream +of the night. He was a Sunnyasi—a houseless +wandering mendicant, depending on his neighbors +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +which he had been absolute master of millions +of money. Even when he was being lionized +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +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 homesick +for the snows—and that the least touch of +Hill blood draws a man at 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/illus043.png" width="285" height="700" alt="The Himalaya-Thibet Road" /> +</div> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +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 days' climb—and +came out on a line of snow-peaks that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +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 worshiped 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 <i>bairagi</i>—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 realize that +what seemed to be low scrub, on the opposite<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +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-colored—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 savory 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +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 <i>chela</i>—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 honored 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +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 honor, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +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> + +<div class="figlefttop"> +<img src="images/illus048a.png" width="249" height="494" alt="Kali's Shrine" /> +</div> +<div class="figleftbot"> +<img src="images/illus048b.png" width="373" height="204" alt="Kali's Shrine" /> +</div> + +<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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +to look at the intruder. The <i>langurs</i>, 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 <i>barasingh</i>, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +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 raveled off the +velvet. Afterward, the <i>barasingh</i> 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 <i>mushick-nabha</i> must needs +find out what the light in the shrine meant, and +drop 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 "<i>Bhai! Bhai!</i>" would +draw them from the forest at noon if they were +within earshot. 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +would find Sona shuffling and grunting at his +heels, thrusting a curious fore-paw under fallen +trunks, and bringing it away with a <i>whoof</i> 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 <i>barasingh</i> stalking +like a shadow through the dark forest behind +the shrine; saw the <i>minaul</i>, the Himalayan pheasant, +blazing in her best colors before Kali's statue; +and the <i>langurs</i> 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 further 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +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 colors with the seasons; the +threshing-floors filled and emptied, and filled +again and again; and again and again, when +winter came, the <i>langurs</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +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 saw 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +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 <i>langur</i>. +"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 <i>langur</i> +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 <i>langur's</i> 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 <i>barasingh</i> 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 <i>this</i> payment for a night's lodging?" +But the deer pushed him toward the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +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 <i>barasingh</i> 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 <i>barasingh</i> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +forest more of the Bhagat's brothers joined them. +He heard, though he could not see, the <i>langurs</i> +pressing about him, and behind them the <i>uhh! +uhh!</i> 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 <i>barasingh</i>. 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +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 <i>barasingh</i>, 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 +<i>barasingh</i>, weighted by the failing strength of +Purun Bhagat. At last the deer stopped in the +shadow of a deep pine-wood, five hundred feet up +the hillside. His instinct, that had warned him +of the coming slide, told him he would be safe +here.</p> + +<p>Purun Bhagat dropped fainting by his side, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +their refuge, damming back the little river, which +had begun to spread into a brick-colored lake. +Of the village, of the road to the shrine, of the +shrine itself, and the forest behind, there was not +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 <i>barasingh</i> standing over him, who fled when +they came near, and they heard the <i>langurs</i> 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 northeast.</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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +and honorary or corresponding member of +more learned and scientific societies than will ever +do any good in this world or the next.</p> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus060.png" width="350" height="451" alt="End of The Miracle of Purun Bhagat" /> +</div> + +<p><a name="page_61" id="page_61"></a></p> +<p class="b1 center p6">A SONG OF KABIR</p> + +<div class="poem wide p2"> +<p> +<img src="images/drop_o061.png" alt="O" width="125" height="200" class="floatl" /></p> +<p class="stanza"><span class="o2">h, light was the world that he weighed in his hands!</span> +<span class="i8">Oh, heavy the tale of his fiefs and his lands!</span> +<span class="i8">He has gone from the <i>guddee</i> and put on the shroud,</span> +<span class="i8">And departed in guise of <i>bairagi</i> avowed!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i8">Now the white road to Delhi is mat for his feet,</span> +<span class="i8">The <i>sal</i> and the <i>kikar</i> must guard him from heat;</span> +<span class="i8">His home is the camp, and the waste, and the crowd—</span> +<span class="i8">He is seeking the Way as <i>bairagi</i> avowed!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0">He has looked upon Man, and his eyeballs are clear</span> +<span class="i0">(There was One; there is One, and but One, saith Kabir);</span> +<span class="i0">The Red Mist of Doing has thinned to a cloud—</span> +<span class="i0">He has taken the Path for <i>bairagi</i> avowed!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0">To learn and discern of his brother the clod,</span> +<span class="i0">Of his brother the brute, and his brother the God.</span> +<span class="i0">He has gone from the council and put on the shroud</span> +<span class="i0">("Can ye hear?" saith Kabir), a <i>bairagi</i> avowed!</span> +<a name="page_63" id="page_63"></a></p> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p6">LETTING IN THE JUNGLE</p> + +<div class="poem p6"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Veil them, cover them, wall them round—</span> +<span class="i1">Blossom, and creeper, and weed—</span> +<span class="i0">Let us forget the sight and the sound,</span> +<span class="i1">The smell and the touch of the breed!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fat black ash by the altar-stone,</span> +<span class="i1">Here is the white-foot rain,</span> +<span class="i0">And the does bring forth in the fields unsown,</span> +<span class="i1">And none shall affright them again;</span> +<span class="i0">And the blind walls crumble, unknown, o'erthrown</span> +<span class="i1">And none shall inhabit again!</span></p></div> + +<p class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">[Pg 65]</a></p> +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus065.png" width="700" height="269" alt="Letting in the Jungle" /> +</div> + +<p class="b1 center p2">LETTING IN THE JUNGLE</p> + +<p> +<img src="images/drop_y065.png" alt="Y" width="143" height="200" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>ou will remember, if you +have read the tales in the +first Jungle Book, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +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 <i>my</i> 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;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +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 <i>five</i>," 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 <i>switch-switch</i> 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 thief'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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +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 +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 <i>us</i>, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +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 <i>two</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +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 underbrush +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 midday!" +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?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +said Akela, as the four wolves turned back sullenly +and dropped to heel.</p> + +<p>"Am I to give a 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. <i>We</i> know our own +minds. That 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +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. "<i>Now</i>, what does the lean thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +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. <i>That</i> 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +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 am going 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 the 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +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 <i>Ya-la-hi! Yalaha!</i> 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:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One moment past our bodies cast</span> +<span class="i1">No shadow on the plain;</span> +<span class="i0">Now clear and black they stride our track,</span> +<span class="i1">And we run home again.</span> +<span class="i0">In morning hush, each rock and bush</span> +<span class="i1">Stands hard, and high, and raw:</span> +<span class="i0">Then give the Call: "<i>Good rest to all</i></span> +<span class="i1"><i>That keep the Jungle Law!</i></span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now horn and pelt our peoples melt</span> +<span class="i1">In covert to abide;</span> +<span class="i0">Now, crouched and still, to cave and hill</span> +<span class="i1">Our Jungle Barons glide.</span> +<span class="i0">Now, stark and plain, Man's oxen strain,</span> +<span class="i1">That draw the new-yoked plow;</span> +<span class="i0">Now, stripped and dread, the dawn is red</span> +<span class="i1">Above the lit <i>talao</i>.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ho! Get to lair! The sun's aflare</span> +<span class="i1">Behind the breathing grass:</span> +<span class="i0">And creaking through the young bamboo</span> +<span class="i1">The warning whispers pass.</span> +<span class="i0">By day made strange, the woods we range</span> +<span class="i1">With blinking eyes we scan;</span> +<span class="i0">While down the skies the wild duck cries:</span> +<span class="i1">"<i>The Day—the Day to Man!</i>"</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dew is dried that drenched our hide,</span> +<span class="i1">Or washed about our way;</span> +<span class="i0">And where we drank, the puddled bank</span> +<span class="i1">Is crisping into clay.</span> +<span class="i0">The traitor Dark gives up each mark</span> +<span class="i1">Of stretched or hooded claw;</span> +<span class="i0">Then hear the Call: "<i>Good rest to all</i></span> +<span class="i1"><i>That keep the Jungle Law!</i>"</span> +</p></div> + +<p>But no translation can give the effect of it, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +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 <i>dhak</i>-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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +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 <i>know</i> 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 <i>her</i> 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +I had too many cattle. <i>Therefore</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +of his hand with the tip of his skinning-knife; "I +have no wish to do harm to any one of this village—<i>yet</i>. +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!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +Talk, talk! Men are blood-brothers of the <i>Bandar-log</i>. +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 <i>thou</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +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>"<i>Thou</i> wast never afraid of <i>me</i>, 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. +"Kanhiwara is thirty miles from here, but at +Kanhiwara 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 <i>he</i> do?" Messua's husband was +on his hands and knees digging up the earth in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +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 <i>not</i> follow till I choose; but the +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 Kanhiwara?" 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +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 ye come within +eye-shot of Kanhiwara. There will be a watch +about you." He turned quickly to Messua, saying, +"<i>He</i> does not believe, but thou wilt believe?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, surely, my son. Man, ghost, or wolf of +the Jungle, I believe."</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> 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: +"<i>If</i> we reach Kanhiwara, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +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. The call will follow up +to Kanhiwara. It is Favor of the Jungle."</p> + +<p>Messua urged her husband forward, and the +darkness of the Jungle 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.</p> + +<p>"What? Did they not sing sweetly to Buldeo?" +said Mowgli.</p> + +<p>"Too well! Too well! They made even <i>me</i> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +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. What 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 sung 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 all my strength is in +me. Who shall stay my stroke? Man-cub, with +one blow of my paw I could beat thy head flat<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +as a dead frog in the summer!"</p> + +<p>"Strike, then!" said Mowgli, in the dialect of +the village, <i>not</i> 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 <i>thou</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +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 <i>not</i> 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 <i>me</i> 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 <i>me</i> 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!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +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 Kanhiwara," 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +"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 <i>was</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +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 plowing that follows the reaping?" +said Mowgli.</p> + +<p>"There was no plowing," 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +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 plowed 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 plow, 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +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 <i>thou</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +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 rumor 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +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 Sahi the Porcupine, full of news of +good feed just a little further 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 center of that circle was the village, and +round the village the crops were ripening, and in +the crops sat men on what they call <i>machans</i>—platforms +like pigeon-perches, made of sticks at +the top of four poles—to scare away birds and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +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 <i>machans</i> 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 plowed +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +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 <i>Karela</i>, +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 Kanhiwara, 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 worshiped<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +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 +midday; 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 chiseled with the stroke of some great taloned +paw. The more they kept to their village, the +bolder grew the wild things that gamboled 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +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 Kanhiwara.</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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +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 eaves; 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +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 plow +not six months before.</p> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus111.png" width="350" height="276" alt="End of Letting in the Jungle" /> +</div> + +<p class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">[Pg 112]</a></p> +<p class="center p6 b1">MOWGLI'S SONG AGAINST PEOPLE</p> + +<div class="poem p2"> +<p><img src="images/drop_i112.png" alt="I" width="70" height="200" class="floatl" /></p> +<p class="stanza p2"> will let loose against you the fleet-footed vines—<br /> +<span class="i6">I will call in the Jungle to stamp out your lines!</span> +<span class="i8">The roofs shall fade before it,</span> +<span class="i9">The house-beams shall fall,</span> +<span class="i8">And the <i>Karela</i>, the bitter <i>Karela</i>,</span> +<span class="i9">Shall cover it all!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i6">In the gates of these your councils my people shall sing,</span> +<span class="i6">In the doors of these your garners the Bat-folk shall cling;</span> +<span class="i8">And the snake shall be your watchman,</span> +<span class="i9">By a hearthstone unswept;</span> +<span class="i8">For the <i>Karela</i>, the bitter <i>Karela</i>,</span> +<span class="i9">Shall fruit where ye slept!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0">Ye shall not see my strikers; ye shall hear them and guess;</span> +<span class="i0">By night, before the moon-rise, I will send for my cess,</span> +<span class="i2">And the wolf shall be your herdsman</span> +<span class="i3">By a landmark removed,</span> +<span class="i2">For the <i>Karela</i>, the bitter <i>Karela</i>,</span> +<span class="i3">Shall seed where ye loved!</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0">I will reap your fields before you at the hands of a host;</span> +<span class="i0">Ye shall glean behind my reapers for the bread that is lost;</span> +<span class="i2">And the deer shall be your oxen</span> +<span class="i3">By a headland untilled,</span> +<span class="i2">For the <i>Karela</i>, the bitter <i>Karela</i>,</span> +<span class="i3">Shall leaf where ye build!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0">I have untied against you the club-footed vines,</span> +<span class="i0">I have sent in the Jungle to swamp out your lines</span> +<span class="i2">The trees—the trees are on you!</span> +<span class="i3">The house-beams shall fall,</span> +<span class="i2">And the <i>Karela</i>, the bitter <i>Karela</i>,</span> +<span class="i3">Shall cover you all!</span><a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a></p></div> + +<p class="b1 center p6">THE UNDERTAKERS</p> + +<div class="poem p6"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When ye say to Tabaqui, "My Brother!" when ye call the Hyena to meat,</span> +<span class="i0">Ye may cry the Full Truce with Jacala—the Belly that runs on four feet.</span> +<span class="i12">—<i>Jungle Law.</i></span></p></div> + +<p class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">[Pg 117]</a></p> +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus117.png" width="700" height="270" alt="The Undertakers" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p2">THE UNDERTAKERS</p> + +<p> +<img src="images/drop_r117.png" width="193" height="200" alt="R" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>espect 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +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 +low jungle of the grazing-grounds behind the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +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 pickaxe beak +might steal. His legs were long and thin and +skinny, but he moved them delicately, and looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +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 <i>heard</i> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +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 <i>very</i> 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +alas! 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 <i>his</i> 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 could 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +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 philosophize 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +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 +honored 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +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 <i>me</i>. 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> + +<div class="poem"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In August was the Jackal born;</span> +<span class="i1">The Rains fell in September;</span> +<span class="i0">'Now such a fearful flood as this,'</span> +<span class="i1">Says he, 'I can't remember!'"</span></p></div> + +<p>There is one very unpleasant peculiarity about<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +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 honor. 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 <i>all</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +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 +further, but that gave me three in one day—well-fed +<i>manjis</i> (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. <i>My</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +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. <i>My</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +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 +<i>lathis</i> (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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +twenty a side. My people are good people—upland +Jats—Malwais of the Bêt. 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 <i>kikar</i>-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 <i>amratvela</i> +(sunrise) they put the fire to him a little, +as the custom is, and the dead man comes to me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +and <i>he</i> 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—<i>them</i>," 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 were 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?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +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 <i>could</i> believe this +truth."</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +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 +marvelous 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—"<i>anything</i> 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +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 <i>when</i> 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.</p> + +<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +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 <i>his</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +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! <i>Me!</i> 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +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 +marvelous!"</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—<i>cousin</i>," 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +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,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +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 +jewelry and nose-rings and anklets as my women +are nowadays. To delight in ornaments is to +end with a rope for 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +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 crosswise 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. Their 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +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 long 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 neckplate +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +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 <i>not</i> 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +and, when I had reached Arrah and the backwaters +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +with a tail, and they—"</p> + +<p>"Are thrice as big as my village. <i>My</i> 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 plowing 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 <i>not</i> English, as my people saw. +Then my people said that it was best to say nothing +at all, but to pay the tax and plow 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +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>"Marvelous! Most truly marvelous!" 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +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 +<i>him</i> 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! +<i>Arrh!</i>"</p> + +<p>"How can a Jackal hunt with a Mugger?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +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 greater +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +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 <i>deota</i> (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!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +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 boatman! 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 class="l15" /> + +<p>Curiously enough, the Jackal and the Adjutant +made the very same remark not three minutes +after the men had left.</p> + +<p class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">[Pg 155]</a></p> +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus155.png" width="700" height="230" alt="End of The Undertakers" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p6">A RIPPLE SONG</p> + +<div class="poem p2"> +<p><img src="images/drop_o155.png" width="127" height="200" alt="O" class="floatl" /></p> +<p class="stanza p2">nce a ripple came to land<br /> +<span class="i10">In the golden sunset burning—</span> +<span class="i9">Lapped against a maiden's hand,</span> +<span class="i10">By the ford returning.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p25"> +<span class="i9"><i>Dainty foot and gentle breast—</i></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Here, across, be glad and rest.</i></span> +<span class="i9"><i>"Maiden, wait," the ripple saith;</i></span> +<span class="i9"><i>"Wait awhile, for I am Death!"</i></span></p> + +<p class="p25 i4"> +<span class="i0">"Where my lover calls I go—</span> +<span class="i1">Shame it were to treat him coldly—</span> +<span class="i0">'Twas a fish that circled so</span> +<span class="i1">Turning over boldly."</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p25 i4"> +<span class="i0"><i>Dainty foot and tender heart,</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Wait the loaded ferry-cart.</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>"Wait, ah, wait!" the ripple saith;</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>"Maiden, wait, for I am Death!"</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<p class="stanza p25 i4"> +<span class="i0">"When my lover calls I haste—</span> +<span class="i1">Dame Disdain was never wedded!"</span> +<span class="i0">Ripple-ripple round her waist,</span> +<span class="i1">Clear the current eddied.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p25 i4"> +<span class="i0"><i>Foolish heart and faithful hand,</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Little feet that touched no land.</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Far away the ripple sped,</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Ripple—ripple—running red!</i></span><a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a></p></div> + +<p class="b1 center p6">THE KING'S ANKUS</p> +<div class="poem wide p6"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These are the Four that are never content, that have never been filled since the Dews began—</span> +<span class="i0">Jacala's mouth, and the glut of the Kite, and the hands of the Ape, and the Eyes of Man.</span> +<span class="i8">—<i>Jungle Saying.</i></span> +</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus159.png" width="700" height="349" alt="The King's Ankus" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p2">THE KING'S ANKUS</p> + +<p> +<img src="images/drop_k159.png" width="154" height="200" alt="K" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>aa, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +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>"Aye, 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 <i>also</i> 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +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 color 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +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 <i>very</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +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 favor of the Jungle! Is there more anywhere +between sunrise and sunset?"</p> + +<p>"Now, the Cobra said—" Kaa began.</p> + +<p>"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 talking<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +very many men would die.'"</p> + +<p>"That <i>must</i> 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 <i>not</i> 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 queen's pavilion +that stood on the terrace, slipped over the rubbish, +and dived down the half-choked staircase +that went underground from the center of the +pavilion. Mowgli gave the snake-call—"We +be of one blood, ye and I,"—and followed on his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +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 my city?" said the White Cobra, +without answering the greeting. "What of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +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 <i>ye</i>?"</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 <i>he</i>," said the White Cobra, "sitting +down before me, unafraid, knowing not the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +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>I</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 at, 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 favor. Look thou, and see what man has +never seen before!"</p> + +<p>"They do not well in the Jungle who speak to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +Mowgli of favors," 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 moved 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 jeweled 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 jeweled eyes; there were coats +of mail, gold inlaid on steel, and fringed with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +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 see 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +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> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/illus173.png" width="203" height="700" alt="The Ankus" /> +</div> + +<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 +twelve 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +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 favor?"</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?"</p> + +<p>Mowgli picked up something white and smooth. +"It is the bone of a man's head," he said quietly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +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 a while, Kaa of the Rocks, and see +the boy run. There is room for great sport here. +Life is good. Run to and fro a while, 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, paralyzing 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +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>"<i>Thuu</i>" ("It is dried up"),<a name="fnanchor_1" id="fnanchor_1"></a><a href="#footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +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 <i>why</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +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 <i>that</i>? 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +he. A tumbled bundle of gay-colored 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 further 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 +center 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 <i>these</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +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 <i>these</i>, +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +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 <i>him</i>, 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 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 class="l15" /> + +<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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +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> + +<hr class="l30" /> +<p class="center"><a name="footnote" id="footnote"></a>FOOTNOTE:</p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="footnote_1" id="footnote_1"></a><a href="#fnanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> +Literally, a rotted out tree-stump.</p></div> +<hr class="l30" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus190.png" width="350" height="397" alt="End of The King's Ankus" /> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> +<p class="center b1 p6">THE SONG OF THE LITTLE HUNTER</p> + +<div class="poem wide p2"> +<p><img src="images/drop_e191.png" width="134" height="200" alt="E" class="floatl" /></p> +<p class="p2 stanza">re Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry,<br /> +<span class="i12">Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer,</span> +<span class="i10">Through the Jungle very softly flits a shadow and a sigh—</span> +<span class="i12">He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear!</span> +<span class="i10">Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watching shade,</span> +<span class="i12">And the whisper spreads and widens far and near;</span> +<span class="i10">And the sweat is on thy brow, for he passes even now—</span> +<span class="i12">He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ere the moon has climbed the mountain, ere the rocks are ribbed with light,</span> +<span class="i12">When the downward-dipping trails are dank and drear,</span> +<span class="i10">Comes a breathing hard behind thee—<i>snuffle-snuffle</i> through the night—</span> +<span class="i12">It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!</span> +<span class="i0">On thy knees and draw the bow; bid the shrilling arrow go;</span> +<span class="i2">In the empty, mocking thicket plunge the spear;</span> +<span class="i0">But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood has left thy cheek—</span> +<span class="i2">It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the slivered pine-trees fall,</span> +<span class="i2">When the blinding, blaring rain-squalls lash and veer;</span> +<span class="i0">Through the war-gongs of the thunder rings a voice more loud than all—</span> +<span class="i2">It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!</span> +<span class="i0">Now the spates are banked and deep; now the footless boulders leap—</span> +<span class="i2">Now the lightning shows each littlest leaf-rib clear—</span> +<span class="i0">But thy throat is shut and dried, and thy heart against thy side</span> +<span class="i2">Hammers: Fear, O Little Hunter—this is Fear!</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter p2"> +<img src="images/illus193.png" width="416" height="350" alt="End of The Song of the Little Hunter" /> +<a name="page_193" id="page_193"></a></div> + +<p class="b1 center p6">QUIQUERN</p> + +<div class="poem p6"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow—</span> +<span class="i0">They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.</span> +<span class="i0">The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight;</span> +<span class="i0">They sell their furs to the trading-post; they sell their souls to the white.</span> +<span class="i0">The People of the Southern Ice, they trade with the whaler's crew;</span> +<span class="i0">Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few.</span> +<span class="i0">But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man's ken—</span> +<span class="i0">Their spears are made of the narwhal-horn, and they are the last of the Men!</span> +<span class="i12">—<i>Translation.</i></span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter p6"><a name="page_195" id="page_195"></a> +<img src="images/illus195.png" width="700" height="227" alt="Quiquern" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p2">QUIQUERN</p> + +<p><img src="images/drop_h195.png" width="152" height="200" alt="H" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>e 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +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. Halfway +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +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. <i>Sarpok!</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +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, snow, and gale after gale, with a cold that +no one can realize 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +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 traveling 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 soapstone +affairs, flint and steel, and even matches, +as well as colored 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +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 this 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 deerskins (that +supples them as nothing else can) the long day +through, while the men were out hunting. He +wanted to go into the <i>quaggi</i>, the Singing-House, +when the hunters gathered there for their mysteries,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +and the <i>angekok</i>, 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 a 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 <i>all</i> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +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 <i>pitu</i>, 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 not 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 heartbreaking 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +the bone. And they one and all <i>will</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +a trace loose from the <i>pitu</i>, 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 humored 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 "Angutivaun 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-litten<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +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 <i>tupik</i> (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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +hood, and the long diamond pattern of +her white deerskin 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +had made above the hole to guide the downward +thrust of his harpoon, a little sealskin mat under +his feet, and his legs tied together in the <i>tutareang</i> +(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 soapstone +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +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 as 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> +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. This 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 wildfire. Next +hunting-day another dog sickened, and was killed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_213" id="page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +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 <i>pitu</i> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_214" id="page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +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 <i>inua</i>), who was generally a +one-eyed kind of a Woman-Thing called a <i>tornaq</i>, +and that when a <i>tornaq</i> 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 <i>tornaq</i> 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 says,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_215" id="page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +'I will guide you to the good seal-holes.' To-morrow +I go out, and the <i>tornaq</i> will guide me."</p> + +<p>Then the <i>angekok</i>, the village sorcerer, came in, +and Kotuko told him the tale a second time. It +lost nothing in the telling.</p> + +<p>"Follow the <i>tornait</i> [the spirits of the stones], +and they will bring us food again," said the +<i>angekok</i>.</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>I</i> think that we shall both go to Sedna +together."</p> + +<p>Now Sedna is the Mistress of the Under-world, +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_216" id="page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +you call.</p> + +<p>Through the village people were shouting: +"The <i>tornait</i> 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 humored the sleigh through +the broken ice in the direction of the Polar Sea. +Kotuko insisted that the <i>tornaq</i> 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 neatly 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_217" id="page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +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 colors—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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_218" id="page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +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 traveling-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 <i>tornaq</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_219" id="page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +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 <i>tornait</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_220" id="page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_221" id="page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +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 <i>tornaq</i> do nothing? +Sing her an <i>angekok's</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_222" id="page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +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 traveled 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 <i>tornaq</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_223" id="page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +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 telltale 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_224" id="page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +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 table-cloth. +Where the water was shallow these sheets would +be piled one atop of the other till the bottom-most +touched mud fifty feet down, and the discolored +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_225" id="page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +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 skirled 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;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_226" id="page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +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 <i>now</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Follow <i>that</i>!" 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_227" id="page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_228" id="page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +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 neighbor'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 +toward 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 <i>tornaq</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_229" id="page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +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 only lasted for +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_230" id="page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_231" id="page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +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 <i>tornaq</i> 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 <i>you</i> do?" said the sorcerer in the +same sort of voice as he used to Kadlu, richest of +the Tununirmiut.</p> + +<p>Kotuko looked at the girl from the North, and said +quietly, "<i>We</i> build a house." He pointed to the +northwest 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_232" id="page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +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, deerskins +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 <i>angekok</i>, 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. <i>My</i> singing made the gale blow that +broke the ice and drew the two dogs toward +Kotuko when the ice would have crushed his +bones. <i>My</i> song drew the seal in behind the +broken ice. My body lay still in the <i>quaggi</i>, 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;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_233" id="page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +and the <i>angekok</i>, 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 class="l15" /> + +<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 +jeweler 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><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_234" id="page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> +<p class="center b1 p6">"ANGUTIVUN TINA"</p> +<div class="poem wide"> +<p class="p2">[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> + +<p class="p2"><img src="images/drop_o234.png" width="187" height="200" alt="O" class="floatl" /></p> +<p class="stanza p2"><span class="o2">ur gloves are stiff with the frozen blood,</span> +<span class="i14">Our furs with the drifted snow,</span> +<span class="i12">As we come in with the seal—the seal!</span> +<span class="i14">In from the edge of the floe.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i12"><i>Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq!</i></span> +<span class="i14">And the yelping dog-teams go,</span> +<span class="i12">And the long whips crack, and the men come back,</span> +<span class="i14">Back from the edge of the floe!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0">We tracked our seal to his secret place,</span> +<span class="i2">We heard him scratch below,</span> +<span class="i0">We made our mark, and we watched beside,</span> +<span class="i2">Out on the edge of the floe.</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_235" id="page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0">We raised our lance when he rose to breathe,</span> +<span class="i2">We drove it downward—so!</span> +<span class="i0">And we played him thus, and we killed him thus</span> +<span class="i2">Out on the edge of the floe.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0">Our gloves are glued with the frozen blood,</span> +<span class="i2">Our eyes with the drifting snow;</span> +<span class="i0">But we come back to our wives again,</span> +<span class="i2">Back from the edge of the floe!</span></p> + +<p class="stanza p2"> +<span class="i0"><i>Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq!</i></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the loaded dog-teams go,</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And the wives can hear their men come back,</i></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Back from the edge of the floe!</i></span> +</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter p2"> +<img src="images/illus236.png" width="503" height="346" alt="End of Angutivun Tina" /> +<a name="page_237" id="page_237"></a></div> + +<p class="b1 center p6">RED DOG</p> + +<div class="poem wide p6"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For our white and our excellent nights—for the nights of swift running,</span> +<span class="i2">Fair ranging, far-seeing, good hunting, sure cunning!</span> +<span class="i0">For the smells of the dawning, untainted, ere dew has departed!</span> +<span class="i0">For the rush through the mist, and the quarry blind-started!</span> +<span class="i0">For the cry of our mates when the sambhur has wheeled and is standing at bay,</span> +<span class="i5">For the risk and the riot of night!</span> +<span class="i5">For the sleep at the lair-mouth by day,</span> +<span class="i6">It is met, and we go to the fight.</span> +<span class="i9">Bay! O bay!</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus239.png" width="700" height="409" alt="Red Dog" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p2">RED DOG</p> + +<p> +<img src="images/drop_i239.png" width="87" height="200" alt="I" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>t 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 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_240" id="page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_241" id="page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +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 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_242" id="page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +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 <i>pheeal</i>, 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 <i>pheeal</i> 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_243" id="page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +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 <i>pheeal</i> 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_244" id="page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +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 <i>pheeal</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_245" id="page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +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 +their 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_246" id="page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_247" id="page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +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>"<i>Aowa! Aowa!</i>" 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_248" id="page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +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 <i>ye</i>, 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. <i>We</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_249" id="page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +bark that sounded in the night like a big tree +falling. "It is met!" they cried.</p> + +<p>"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>"<i>Kssha!</i>" 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_250" id="page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +most beautiful Kaa."</p> + +<p>"Now, whither does <i>this</i> 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 +<i>pheeal</i>. Small wonder the Eaters of Grass are<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_251" id="page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +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 sheer joy,—"it will +be good hunting. Few of us will see another +moon."</p> + +<p>"Dost <i>thou</i> 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>"<i>Ngssh!</i> 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_252" id="page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +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>"<i>Alala!</i> 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 <i>this</i> is new hunting," said Mowgli. +"Never before have the dhole crossed our<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_253" id="page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +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 <i>thou</i> still alive, Manling?"</p> + +<p>"It is only a little after moonset," said Mowgli. +"I do not understand—"</p> + +<p>"<i>Hssh!</i> I am again Kaa. I knew it was but +a little time. Now we will go to the river, and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_254" id="page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_255" id="page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_256" id="page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +nor fire nor water had ever touched them. The +length of the gorge on both sides 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 falling 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_257" id="page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +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!"</p> + +<p>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 bones, +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_258" id="page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +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 <i>then</i>, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_259" id="page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +throat."</p> + +<p>"<i>Ahai! Eowawa!</i> 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 +<i>any</i> 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>"<i>Hssh!</i> 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_260" id="page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +"Wait and see. As for <i>thy</i> Man-cub, from whom +thou hast taken a Word and so laid him open to +Death, <i>thy</i> Man-cub is with <i>me</i>, 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>He 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 <i>schloop</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_261" id="page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_262" id="page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +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 northeastward, 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 midday, when the sun was very<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_263" id="page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +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 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 intended 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_264" id="page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +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 all 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_265" id="page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> +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 +grasp, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_266" id="page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +sleep.</p> + +<p>After four or five 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 labors, and, as he +knew, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_267" id="page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +be at the death. It was a curious sight—the +boy with the knife that shone in the low sunlight +as it shifted 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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_268" id="page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +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 footfalls +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_269" id="page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_270" id="page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +of the dholes took water swiftly when they saw +the Little People rise."</p> + +<p>"The more work for my knife, then. <i>Phai!</i> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_271" id="page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +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 their 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 +clamor 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_272" id="page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_273" id="page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +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 <i>pheeal</i> 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 brushes, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_274" id="page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +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 center. 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 center; here would be +a single wolf borne down by two or three dholes, +laboriously dragging them forward, and sinking<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_275" id="page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +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 manœuvering 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_276" id="page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +Brother yelled. He was bleeding from a score +of flesh-wounds.</p> + +<p>"But the bone is yet to be cracked," said +Mowgli. "<i>Eowawa!</i> <i>Thus</i> 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 paralyzed 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-colored 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_277" id="page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +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>"<i>Huh!</i> 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 +red 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 +panted. "It is good hunting. And thou, Little +Brother?"</p> + +<p>"I live, having killed many."<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_278" id="page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_279" id="page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> +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 the 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_280" id="page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +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><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_281" id="page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center b1 p6">CHIL'S SONG</p> + +<div class="poem wide p2"> +<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> +<p> +<img src="images/drop_t281.png" width="170" height="200" alt="T" class="floatl" /></p> +<p class="stanza">hese were my companions going forth by night—<br /> +<span class="i13">(<i>For Chil! Look you, for Chil!</i>)</span> +<span class="i11">Now come I to whistle them the ending of the fight.</span> +<span class="i13">(<i>Chil! Vanguards of Chil!</i>)</span> +<span class="i11">Word they gave me overhead of quarry newly slain,</span> +<span class="i11">Word I gave them underfoot of buck upon the plain.</span> +<span class="i11">Here's an end of every trail—they shall not speak again!</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_282" id="page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i11">They that called the hunting-cry—they that followed fast—</span> +<span class="i13">(<i>For Chil! Look you, for Chil!</i>)</span> +<span class="i11">They that bade the sambhur wheel, and pinned him as he passed—</span> +<span class="i13">(<i>Chil! Vanguards of Chil!</i>)</span> +<span class="i0">They that lagged behind the scent—they that ran before,</span> +<span class="i0">They that shunned the level horn—they that overbore.</span> +<span class="i0">Here's an end of every trail—they shall not follow more.</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These were my companions. Pity 'twas they died!</span> +<span class="i4">(<i>For Chil! Look you, for Chil!</i>)</span> +<span class="i0">Now come I to comfort them that knew them in their pride.</span> +<span class="i4">(<i>Chil! Vanguards of Chil!</i>)</span> +<span class="i0">Tattered flank and sunken eye, open mouth and red,</span> +<span class="i0">Locked and lank and lone they lie, the dead upon their dead.</span> +<span class="i0">Here's an end of every trail—and here my hosts are fed!<a name="page_283" id="page_283"></a></span></p> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p6">THE SPRING RUNNING</p> + +<div class="poem p6"> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Man goes to Man! Cry the challenge through the Jungle!</span> +<span class="i1">He that was our Brother goes away.</span> +<span class="i0">Hear, now, and judge, O ye People of the Jungle,—</span> +<span class="i1">Answer, who shall turn him—who shall stay?</span></p> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Man goes to Man! He is weeping in the Jungle:</span> +<span class="i1">He that was our Brother sorrows sore!</span> +<span class="i0">Man goes to Man! (Oh, we loved him in the Jungle!)</span> +<span class="i1">To the Man-Trail where we may not follow more.</span></p></div> + +<p class="pagenum"><a name="page_285" id="page_285">[Pg 285]</a></p> +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus285.png" width="700" height="246" alt="The Spring Running" /> +</div> + +<p class="center b1 p2">THE SPRING RUNNING</p> + +<p> +<img src="images/drop_t285.png" width="123" height="200" alt="T" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>he 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_286" id="page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +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 angry," 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 +mist 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_287" id="page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +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, <i>is</i> 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, <i>is</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_288" id="page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +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. "<i>He</i> has not forgotten. Now I, too, +must remember my song," and he began purring<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_289" id="page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +and crooning to himself, harking back dissatisfied +again and again.</p> + +<p>"There is no game afoot," said Mowgli.</p> + +<p>"Little Brother, are <i>both</i> 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 <i>do</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_290" id="page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_291" id="page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +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. <i>That</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_292" id="page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_293" id="page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +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 <i>bandar-log</i> 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 <i>bandar-log</i> scudding +through the trees, and Mor, his tail spread in full +splendor, 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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_294" id="page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_295" id="page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> +spring songs—the Moon and Sambhur Songs—with +the wolves of the Pack; for in the springtime +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 <i>maiou</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_296" id="page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_297" id="page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_298" id="page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_299" id="page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +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 <i>chug-drug</i> +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, 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 furthest 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_300" id="page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_301" id="page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> +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—<i>Hai-mai!</i>—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 <i>am</i> of +the Jungle!"</p> + +<p>In his excitement, as he remembered the fight +on Waingunga bank, he shouted the last words<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_302" id="page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +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), "<i>that</i> 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.</p> + +<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_303" id="page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +<i>here</i>," 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! <i>Thou?</i>" 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. <i>Thou</i> +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 spattering mud, he said: +"What Man-Pack lair here by the marshes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_304" id="page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> +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 cowherd'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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_305" id="page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_306" id="page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +voice.</p> + +<p>"Hast thou forgotten?" said Mowgli. His +throat was dry as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"If it be <i>thou</i>, what name did I give thee? +Say!" She had half shut the door, and her hand +was clutching at her breast.</p> + +<p>"Nathoo! Ohé 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 traveled 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_307" id="page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +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 Kanhiwara," 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_308" id="page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +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 Favor 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 tigers carried +away," Messua went on, choking, "he is +then thy younger brother. Give him an elder +brother's blessing."</p> + +<p>"<i>Hai-mai!</i> 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 has soaked thee to the marrow." Mowgli<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_309" id="page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_310" id="page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_311" id="page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> +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 Kanhiwara. 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_312" id="page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_313" id="page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +But, O Little Brother, what hast <i>thou</i> 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.</p> + +<p>Mowgli was just 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. "<i>Why</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_314" id="page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +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 <i>thou</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_315" id="page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_316" id="page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_317" id="page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_318" id="page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +"I speak for no small people."</p> + +<p>"<i>Hai-mai</i>, 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_319" id="page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +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>"<i>Therefore</i>," 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_320" id="page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +at the dawn-wind. "Where shall we lair +to-day? For, from now, we follow new trails."</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>And this is the last of the Mowgli stories.</p> + +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus320.png" width="410" height="353" alt="End of The Spring Running" /> +</div> + +<p class="center p6 b1"><a name="page_321" id="page_321"></a>THE OUTSONG</p> + +<div class="poem wide"> +<p>This is the song that Mowgli heard behind him in the +Jungle till he came to Messua's door again:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baloo</span>—</p> + +<p> +<img src="images/drop_f321.png" width="129" height="200" alt="F" class="floatl" /></p> +<p>or the sake of him who showed<br /> +One wise Frog the Jungle-Road,<br /> +Keep the Law the Man-Pack make—<br /> +For thy blind old Baloo's sake!<br /> +Clean or tainted, hot or stale,<br /> +Hold it as it were the Trail,<br /> +Through the day and through the night<br /> +Questing neither left nor right.<br /> +For the sake of him who loves<br /> +Thee beyond all else that moves,<br /> +<span class="i9">When thy Pack would make thee pain,</span> +<span class="i9">Say: "Tabaqui sings again."</span> +<span class="i4">When thy Pack would work thee ill,</span> +<span class="i4">Say: "Shere Khan is yet to kill."</span> +<span class="i4">When the knife is drawn to slay,</span> +<span class="i4">Keep the Law and go thy way.</span> +<span class="i4">(Root and honey, palm and spathe,</span> +<span class="i4">Guard a cub from harm and scathe!)</span> +<span class="i4"><i>Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,</i></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Jungle-Favor go with thee!</i></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kaa</span>—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_322" id="page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> + +<p class="i4">Anger is the egg of Fear—<br /> +Only lidless eyes are clear.<br /> +Cobra-poison none may leech;<br /> +Even so with Cobra-speech.<br /> +Open talk shall call to thee<br /> +Strength, whose mate is Courtesy.<br /> +Send no lunge beyond thy length;<br /> +Lend no rotten bough thy strength.<br /> +Gauge thy gape with buck or goat,<br /> +Lest thine eye should choke thy throat<br /> +After gorging, wouldst thou sleep,<br /> +Look the den is hid and deep,<br /> +Lest a wrong, by thee forgot,<br /> +Draw thy killer to the spot.<br /> +East and West and North and South,<br /> +Wash thy hide and close thy mouth.<br /> +(Pit and rift and blue pool-brim,<br /> +Middle Jungle follow him!)<br /> +<i>Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,<br /> +Jungle-Favor go with thee!</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bagheera</span>—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_323" id="page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<p class="i4">In the cage my life began;<br /> +Well I know the worth of Man.<br /> +By the Broken Lock that freed—<br /> +Man-cub, 'ware the Man-cub's breed!<br /> +Scenting-dew or starlight pale,<br /> +Choose no tangled tree-cat trail.<br /> +Pack or council, hunt or den,<br /> +Cry no truce with Jackal-Men.<br /> +Feed them silence when they say:<br /> +"Come with us an easy way."<br /> +Feed them silence when they seek<br /> +Help of thine to hurt the weak.<br /> +Make no <i>bandar's</i> boast of skill;<br /> +Hold thy peace above the kill.<br /> +Let nor call nor song nor sign<br /> +Turn thee from thy hunting-line.<br /> +(Morning mist or twilight clear,<br /> +Serve him, Wardens of the Deer!)<br /> +<i>Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,<br /> +Jungle-Favor go with thee!</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Three</span>—</p> + +<p class="i4"><i>On the trail that thou must tread<br /> +To the thresholds of our dread.<br /> +Where the Flower blossoms red;<br /> +Through the nights when thou shalt lie<br /> +Prisoned from our Mother-sky,</i><br /> +<i>Hearing us, thy loves, go by;<br /> +In the dawns, when thou shalt wake<br /> +To the toil thou canst not break,<br /> +Heartsick for the Jungle's sake:<br /> +Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,<br /> +Wisdom, Strength, and Courtesy,<br /> +Jungle-Favor go with thee!</i></p></div> + +<p class="pagenum"><a name="page_324" id="page_324">[Pg 324]</a></p> +<div class="figcenter p6"> +<img src="images/illus324.png" width="470" height="350" alt="The End" /> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +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 37364-h.htm or 37364-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/3/6/37364/ + +Produced by Melissa McDaniel, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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 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