"What good are white bones to me?" Mowgli answered angrily. "Am I the
cub of a wolf to play in the sun with a raw head? I have killed Shere
Khan, and his hide rots on the Council Rock; but--but I do not know
whither Shere Khan is gone, and my stomach is still empty. Now I will
take that which I can see and touch. Let in the Jungle upon that
village, Hathi!"
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.
"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!"
"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.
"Are ye the only eaters of grass in the Jungle? Drive in your peoples.
Let the deer and the pig and the nilghai look to it. Ye need never
show a hand's-breadth of hide till the fields are naked. Let in the
Jungle, Hathi!"
"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."
"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!"
"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!"
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.
"By the Broken Lock that freed me!" said the Black Panther at last.
"Art _thou_ the naked thing I spoke for in the Pack when all was
young? Master of the Jungle, when my strength goes, speak for
me--speak for Baloo--speak for us all! We are cubs before thee!
Snapped twigs under foot! Fawns that have lost their doe!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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