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‘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.

‘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 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.’

Ahi! Aoo!’ said the deer, thinking of what it all meant to them.

‘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.’

‘For one night only does Man fear the Tiger?’ said Mowgli.

‘For one night only,’ said Hathi.

‘But I—but we—but all the Jungle knows that Shere Khan kills Man twice and thrice in a moon.’

‘Even so. Then he springs from behind and 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.’

‘Oh!’ said Mowgli to himself, rolling over in the water. ‘Now 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.’

‘Umm!’ said Bagheera deep in his furry throat. ‘Does the Tiger know his Night?’

‘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.’

The deer grunted sorrowfully, and Bagheera’s lips curled in a wicked smile. ‘Do men know this—tale?’ said he.

‘None know it except the tigers, and we, the elephants—the children of Tha. Now ye by the pools have heard it, and I have spoken.’

Hathi dipped his trunk into the water as a sign that he did not wish to talk.

‘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 eat. What led him to the hot meat?’

‘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.

‘Then thou knowest the tale. Heh? Why have I never heard?’

‘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.’

The Law of the Jungle

Just 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.

Now this is the Law of the Jungle—as old and as true as the sky;

And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die.

As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk, the Law runneth forward and back—

For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.

Wash daily from nose-tip to tail-tip; drink deeply, but never too deep;

And remember the night is for hunting, and forget not the day is for sleep.

The Jackal may follow the Tiger, but, Cub, when thy whiskers are grown,

Remember the Wolf is a hunter—go forth and get food of thine own.

Keep peace with the Lords of the Jungle—the Tiger, the Panther, the Bear;

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Фантастика / Русская классическая проза / Самиздат, сетевая литература / Прочий юмор / Классическая детская литература