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.
"I will tell a tale that was told to me by the hunter ye hunted
to-day," said Mowgli. "It concerns an elephant, old and wise, who fell
into a trap, and the sharpened stake in the pit scarred him from a
little above his heel to the crest of his shoulder, leaving a white
mark." Mowgli threw out his hand, and as Hathi wheeled the moonlight
showed a long white scar on his slaty side, as though he had been
struck with a red-hot whip. "Men came to take him from the trap,"
Mowgli continued, "but he broke his ropes, for he was strong, and
went away till his wound was healed. Then came he, angry, by night to
the fields of those hunters. And I remember now that he had three
sons. These things happened many, many Rains ago, and very far
away--among the fields of Bhurtpore. What came to those fields at the
next reaping, Hathi?"
"They were reaped by me and by my three sons," said Hathi.
"And to the plowing that follows the reaping?" said Mowgli.
"There was no plowing," said Hathi.
"And to the men that live by the green crops on the ground?" said
Mowgli.
"They went away."
"And to the huts in which the men slept?" said Mowgli.
"We tore the roofs to pieces, and the Jungle swallowed up the walls,"
said Hathi.
"And what more?" said Mowgli.
"As much good ground as I can walk over in two nights from the east to
the west, and from the north to the south as much as I can walk over
in three nights, the Jungle took. We let in the Jungle upon five
villages; and in those villages, and in their lands, the
grazing-ground and the soft crop-grounds, there is not one man to-day
who takes his food from the ground. That was the Sack of the Fields of
Bhurtpore, which I and my three sons did; and now I ask, Man-cub, how
the news of it came to thee?" said Hathi.
"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!"
"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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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