anything less than the fear of burning? It is better to be
killed by beasts than by men," said Messua's husband; but Messua
looked at Mowgli and smiled.

"I say," Mowgli went on, just as though he were Baloo repeating
an old Jungle Law for the hundredth time to a foolish cub--
"I say that not a tooth in the Jungle is bared against you;
not a foot in the Jungle is lifted against you. Neither man
nor beast shall stay you till you come within eye-shot of
Khanhiwara. There will be a watch about you." He turned quickly
to Messua, saying, "HE does not believe, but thou wilt believe?"

"Ay, surely, my son. Man, ghost, or wolf of the Jungle,
I believe."

"HE will be afraid when he hears my people singing. Thou wilt
know and understand. Go now, and slowly, for there is no need of
any haste. The gates are shut."

Messua flung herself sobbing at Mowgli's feet, but he lifted her
very quickly with a shiver. Then she hung about his neck and
called him every name of blessing she could think of, but her
husband looked enviously across his fields, and said: "IF we
reach Khanhiwara, and I get the ear of the English, I will bring
such a lawsuit against the Brahmin and old Buldeo and the others
as shall eat the village to the bone. They shall pay me twice
over for my crops untilled and my buffaloes unfed. I will have
a great justice."

Mowgli laughed. "I do not know what justice is, but--come next
Rains. and see what is left."

They went off toward the Jungle, and Mother Wolf leaped from her
place of hiding.

"Follow!" said Mowgli; "and look to it that all the Jungle knows
these two are safe. Give tongue a little. I would call
Bagheera."

The long, low howl rose and fell, and Mowgli saw Messua's
husband flinch and turn, half minded to run back to the hut.

"Go on," Mowgli called cheerfully. "I said there might be
singing. That call will follow up to Khanhiwara. It is Favour
of the Jungle."

Messua urged her husband forward, and the darkness shut down on
them and Mother Wolf as Bagheera rose up almost under Mowgli's
feet, trembling with delight of the night that drives the Jungle
People wild.

"I am ashamed of thy brethren," he said, purring. "What? Did
they not sing sweetly to Buldeo?" said Mowgli.

"Too well! Too well! They made even ME forget my pride, and,
by the Broken Lock that freed me, I went singing through the
Jungle as though I were out wooing in the spring! Didst thou
not hear us?"

"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."

"What need of the Four, then?" said Bagheera, shifting from foot
to foot, his eyes ablaze, and purring louder than ever. "I can
hold them, Little Brother. Is it killing at last? The singing
and the sight of the men climbing up the trees have made me very
ready. Who is Man that we should care for him--the naked brown
digger, the hairless and toothless, the eater of earth? I have
followed him all day--at noon--in the white sunlight. I herded
him as the wolves herd buck. I am Bagheera! Bagheera! Bagheera!
As I dance with my shadow, so danced I with those men. Look!"
The great panther leaped as a kitten leaps at a dead leaf
whirling overhead, struck left and right into the empty air,
that sang under the strokes, landed noiselessly, and leaped
again and again, while the half purr, half growl gathered head
as steam rumbles in a boiler. "I am Bagheera--in the jungle--
in the night, and my strength is in me. Who shall stay my
stroke? Man-cub, with one blow of my paw I could beat thy head
flat as a dead frog in the summer!"

"Strike, then!" said Mowgli, in the dialect of the village, NOT
the talk of the Jungle, and the human words brought Bagheera to
a full stop, flung back on haunches that quivered under him, his
head just at the level of Mowgli's. Once more Mowgli stared, as
he had stared at the rebellious cubs, full into the beryl-green
eyes till the red glare behind their green went out like the
light of a lighthouse shut off twenty miles across the sea;
till the eyes dropped, and the big head with them--dropped
lower and lower, and the red rasp of a tongue grated on
Mowgli's instep.

"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."

"It was the smells of the night," said Bagheera penitently.
"This air cries aloud to me. But how dost THOU know?"



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