All the Mowgli Stories (Macmillan Collector's Library)

‘They have bound and mean to kill her. I have cut those ties, and she goes with her man through the Jungle.’

‘I also will follow. I am old, but not yet toothless.’ Mother Wolf reared herself up on end, and looked through the window into the dark of the hut.

In a minute she dropped noiselessly, and all she said was: ‘I gave thee thy first milk; but Bagheera speaks truth: Man goes to Man at the last.’

‘Maybe,’ said Mowgli, with a very unpleasant look on his face; ‘but to-night I am very far from that trail. Wait here, but do not let her see.’

‘Thou wast never afraid of me, Little Frog,’ said Mother Wolf, backing into the high grass, and blotting herself out, as she knew how.

‘And now,’ said Mowgli cheerfully, as he swung into the hut again, ‘they are all sitting round Buldeo, who is saying that which did not happen. When his talk is finished, they say they will assuredly come here with the Red—with fire and burn you both. And then?’

‘I have spoken to my man,’ said Messua. ‘Khanhiwara is thirty miles from here, but at Khanhiwara we may find the English——’

‘And what Pack are they?’ said Mowgli.

‘I do not know. They be white, and it is said that they govern all the land, and do not suffer people to burn or beat each other without witnesses. If we can get thither to-night, we live. Otherwise we die.’

‘Live, then. No man passes the gates to-night. But what does he do?’ Messua’s husband was on his hands and knees digging up the earth in one corner of the hut.

‘It is his little money,’ said Messua. ‘We can take nothing else.’

‘Ah, yes. The stuff that passes from hand to hand and never grows warmer. Do they need it outside this place also?’ said Mowgli.

The man stared angrily. ‘He is a fool, and no devil,’ he muttered. ‘With the money I can buy a horse. We are too bruised to walk far, and the village will follow us in an hour.’

‘I say they will not follow till I choose; but a horse is well thought of, for Messua is tired.’ Her husband stood up and knotted the last of the rupees into his waist-cloth. Mowgli helped Messua through the window, and the cool night air revived her, but the Jungle in the starlight looked very dark and terrible.

‘Ye know the trail to Khanhiwara?’ Mowgli whispered. They nodded.

‘Good. Remember, now, not to be afraid. And there is no need to go quickly. Only—only there may be some small singing in the Jungle behind you and before.’

‘Think you we would have risked a night in the Jungle through 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 Mowlgi’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.’