things to eat"; and he dropped twigs and dried bark on the red
stuff. Halfway up the hill he met Bagheera with the morning dew
shining like moonstones on his coat.
"Akela has missed," said the Panther. "They would have killed
him last night, but they needed thee also. They were looking for
thee on the hill."
"I was among the plowed lands. I am ready. See!" Mowgli held
up the fire-pot.
"Good! Now, I have seen men thrust a dry branch into that
stuff, and presently the Red Flower blossomed at the end of it.
Art thou not afraid?"
"No. Why should I fear? I remember now—if it is not a
dream—how, before I was a Wolf, I lay beside the Red Flower,
and it was warm and pleasant."
All that day Mowgli sat in the cave tending his fire pot and
dipping dry branches into it to see how they looked. He found a
branch that satisfied him, and in the evening when Tabaqui
came to the cave and told him rudely enough that he was
wanted at the Council Rock, he laughed till Tabaqui ran away.
Then Mowgli went to the Council, still laughing.
Akela the Lone Wolf lay by the side of his rock as a sign that
the leadership of the Pack was open, and Shere Khan with his
following of scrap-fed wolves walked to and fro openly being
flattered. Bagheera lay close to Mowgli, and the fire pot was
between Mowgli's knees. When they were all gathered together,
Shere Khan began to speak—a thing he would never have dared
to do when Akela was in his prime.
"He has no right," whispered Bagheera. "Say so. He is a dog's
son. He will be frightened."
Mowgli sprang to his feet. "Free People," he cried, "does Shere
Khan lead the Pack? What has a tiger to do with our leadership?"
"Seeing that the leadership is yet open, and being asked to
speak—" Shere Khan began. "By whom?" said Mowgli. "Are we all jackals, to fawn on this
cattle butcher? The leadership of the Pack is with the Pack
alone."
There were yells of "Silence, thou man's cub!" "Let him speak.
He has kept our Law"; and at last the seniors of the Pack
thundered: "Let the Dead Wolf speak." When a leader of the Pack
has missed his kill, he is called the Dead Wolf as long as he
lives, which is not long.
Akela raised his old head wearily:—
"Free People, and ye too, jackals of Shere Khan, for twelve
seasons I have led ye to and from the kill, and in all that time
not one has been trapped or maimed. Now I have missed my
kill. Ye know how that plot was made. Ye know how ye brought
me up to an untried buck to make my weakness known. It was
cleverly done. Your right is to kill me here on the Council Rock,
now. Therefore, I ask, who comes to make an end of the Lone
Wolf? For it is my right, by the Law of the Jungle, that ye come
one by one."
There was a long hush, for no single wolf cared to fight Akela
to the death. Then Shere Khan roared: "Bah! What have we to do
with this toothless fool? He is doomed to die! It is the man-cub
who has lived too long. Free People, he was my meat from the
first. Give him to me. I am weary of this man-wolf folly. He has
troubled the jungle for ten seasons. Give me the man-cub, or I
will hunt here always, and not give you one bone. He is a man, a
man's child, and from the marrow of my bones I hate him!"
Then more than half the Pack yelled: "A man! A man! What
has a man to do with us? Let him go to his own place."
"And turn all the people of the villages against us?" clamored
Shere Khan. "No, give him to me. He is a man, and none of us
can look him between the eyes."
Akela lifted his head again and said, "He has eaten our food.
He has slept with us. He has driven game for us. He has broken
no word of the Law of the Jungle." "Also, I paid for him with a bull when he was accepted. The
worth of a bull is little, but Bagheera's honor is something that
he will perhaps fight for," said Bagheera in his gentlest voice.
"A bull paid ten years ago!" the Pack snarled. "What do we
care for bones ten years old?"
"Or for a pledge?" said Bagheera, his white teeth bared under
his lip. "Well are ye called the Free People!"
"No man's cub can run with the people of the jungle," howled
Shere Khan. "Give him to me!"
"He is our brother in all but blood," Akela went on, "and ye
would kill him here! In truth, I have lived too long. Some of ye
are eaters of cattle, and of others I have heard that, under Shere
Khan's teaching, ye go by dark night and snatch children from
the villager's doorstep. Therefore I know ye to be cowards, and it
is to cowards I speak. It is certain that I must die, and my life is
of no worth, or I would offer that in the man-cub's place. But for
the sake of the Honor of the Pack,—a little matter that by being
without a leader ye have forgotten,—I promise that if ye let the
man-cub go to his own place, I will not, when my time comes to
die, bare one tooth against ye. I will die without fighting. That
will at least save the Pack three lives. More I cannot do; but if
ye will, I can save ye the shame that comes of killing a brother
against whom there is no fault—a brother spoken for and bought
into the Pack according to the Law of the Jungle."
"He is a man—a man—a man!" snarled the Pack. And most of
the wolves began to gather round Shere Khan, whose tail was
beginning to switch.
"Now the business is in thy hands," said Bagheera to Mowgli.
"We can do no more except fight."
Mowgli stood upright—the fire pot in his hands. Then he
stretched out his arms, and yawned in the face of the Council;
but he was furious with rage and sorrow, for, wolflike, the
wolves had never told him how they hated him. "Listen you!" he
cried. "There is no need for this dog's jabber. Ye have told me so often tonight that I am a man (and indeed I would have been a
wolf with you to my life's end) that I feel your words are true. So
I do not call ye my brothers any more, but sag [dogs], as a man
should. What ye will do, and what ye will not do, is not yours to
say. That matter is with me; and that we may see the matter
more plainly, I, the man, have brought here a little of the Red
Flower which ye, dogs, fear."
He flung the fire pot on the ground, and some of the red coals
lit a tuft of dried moss that flared up, as all the Council drew
back in terror before the leaping flames.
Mowgli thrust his dead branch into the fire till the twigs lit
and crackled, and whirled it above his head among the cowering
wolves.
"Thou art the master," said Bagheera in an undertone. "Save
Akela from the death. He was ever thy friend."
Akela, the grim old wolf who had never asked for mercy in his
life, gave one piteous look at Mowgli as the boy stood all naked,
his long black hair tossing over his shoulders in the light of the
blazing branch that made the shadows jump and quiver.
"Good!" said Mowgli, staring round slowly. "I see that ye are
dogs. I go from you to my own people—if they be my own
people. The jungle is shut to me, and I must forget your talk and
your companionship. But I will be more merciful than ye are.
Because I was all but your brother in blood, I promise that when
I am a man among men I will not betray ye to men as ye have
betrayed me." He kicked the fire with his foot, and the sparks
flew up. "There shall be no war between any of us in the Pack.
But here is a debt to pay before I go." He strode forward to
where Shere Khan sat blinking stupidly at the flames, and
caught him by the tuft on his chin. Bagheera followed in case of
accidents. "Up, dog!" Mowgli cried. "Up, when a man speaks, or
I will set that coat ablaze!"
Shere Khan's ears lay flat back on his head, and he shut his
eyes, for the blazing branch was very near. "This cattle-killer said he would kill me in the Council because
he had not killed me when I was a cub. Thus and thus, then, do
we beat dogs when we are men. Stir a whisker, Lungri, and I
ram the Red Flower down thy gullet!" He beat Shere Khan over
the head with the branch, and the tiger whimpered and whined
in an agony of fear.
"Pah! Singed jungle cat—go now! But remember when next I
come to the Council Rock, as a man should come, it will be with
Shere Khan's hide on my head. For the rest, Akela goes free to
live as he pleases. Ye will not kill him, because that is not my
will. Nor do I think that ye will sit here any longer, lolling out
your tongues as though ye were somebodies, instead of dogs
whom I drive out—thus! Go!" The fire was burning furiously at
the end of the branch, and Mowgli struck right and left round
the circle, and the wolves ran howling with the sparks burning
their fur. At last there were only Akela, Bagheera, and perhaps
ten wolves that had taken Mowgli's part. Then something began
to hurt Mowgli inside him, as he had never been hurt in his life
before, and he caught his breath and sobbed, and the tears ran
down his face.
"What is it? What is it?" he said. "I do not wish to leave the
jungle, and I do not know what this is. Am I dying, Bagheera?"
"No, Little Brother. That is only tears such as men use," said
Bagheera. "Now I know thou art a man, and a man's cub no
longer. The jungle is shut indeed to thee henceforward. Let them
fall, Mowgli. They are only tears." So Mowgli sat and cried as
though his heart would break; and he had never cried in all his
life before.
"Now," he said, "I will go to men. But first I must say farewell
to my mother." And he went to the cave where she lived with
Father Wolf, and he cried on her coat, while the four cubs
howled miserably.
"Ye will not forget me?" said Mowgli....