All the Mowgli Stories (Macmillan Collector's Library)

But Mowgli naturally did not understand what these things meant. The knives interested him a little, but they did not balance so well as his own, and so he dropped them. At last he found something really fascinating laid on the front of a howdah half buried in the coins. It was a three-foot ankus, or elephant-goad—something like a small boat-hook. The top was one round, shining ruby, and eight inches of the handle below it were studded with rough turquoises close together, giving a most satisfactory grip. Below them was a rim of jade with a flower-pattern running round it—only the leaves were emeralds, and the blossoms were rubies sunk in the cool, green stone. The rest of the handle was a shaft of pure ivory, while the point—the spike and hook—was gold-inlaid steel with pictures of elephant-catching; and the pictures attracted Mowgli, who saw that they had something to do with his friend Hathi the Silent.

The White Cobra had been following him closely.

‘Is not this worth dying to behold?’ he said. ‘Have I not done thee a great favour?’

‘I do not understand,’ said Mowgli. ‘The things are hard and cold, and by no means good to eat. But this’—he lifted the ankus—‘I desire to take away, that I may see it in the sun. Thou sayest they are all thine? Wilt thou give it to me, and I will bring thee frogs to eat?’

The White Cobra fairly shook with evil delight. ‘Assuredly I will give it,’ he said. ‘All that is here I will give thee—till thou goest away.’

‘But I go now. This place is dark and cold, and I wish to take the thorn-pointed thing to the Jungle.’

‘Look by thy foot! What is that there?’

Mowgli picked up something white and smooth. ‘It is the bone of a man’s head,’ he said quietly. ‘And here are two more.’

‘They came to take the treasure away many years ago. I spoke to them in the dark, and they lay still.’

‘But what do I need of this that is called treasure? If thou wilt give me the ankus to take away, it is good hunting. If not, it is good hunting none the less. I do not fight with the Poison People, and I was also taught the Master Word of thy tribe.’

‘There is but one Master Word here. It is mine!’

Kaa flung himself forward with blazing eyes. ‘Who bade me bring the Man?’ he hissed.

‘I surely,’ the old Cobra lisped. ‘It is long since I have seen Man, and this Man speaks our tongue.’

‘But there was no talk of killing. How can I go to the Jungle and say that I have led him to his death?’ said Kaa.

‘I talk not of killing till the time. And as to thy going or not going, there is the hole in the wall. Peace, now, thou fat monkey-killer! I have but to touch thy neck, and the Jungle will know thee no longer. Never Man came here that went away with the breath under his ribs. I am the Warden of the Treasure of the King’s City!’

‘But, thou white worm of the dark, I tell thee there is neither king nor city! The Jungle is all about us!’ cried Kaa.

‘There is still the Treasure. But this can be done. Wait awhile, Kaa of the Rocks, and see the boy run. There is room for great sport here. Life is good. Run to and fro awhile, and make sport, boy!’

Mowgli put his hand on Kaa’s head quietly.

‘The white thing has dealt with men of the Man-Pack until now. He does not know me,’ he whispered. ‘He has asked for this hunting. Let him have it.’ Mowgli had been standing with the ankus held point down. He flung it from him quickly, and it dropped crossways just behind the great snake’s hood, pinning him to the floor. In a flash, Kaa’s weight was upon the writhing body, paralysing it from hood to tail. The red eyes burned, and the six spare inches of the head struck furiously right and left.

‘Kill!’ said Kaa, as Mowgli’s hand went to his knife.

‘No,’ he said, as he drew the blade; ‘I will never kill again save for food. But look you, Kaa!’ He caught the snake behind the hood, forced the mouth open with the blade of the knife, and showed the terrible poison-fangs of the upper jaw lying black and withered in the gum. The White Cobra had outlived his poison, as a snake will.

‘Thuu’ (‘It is dried up’),1 said Mowgli; and motioning Kaa away, he picked up the ankus, setting the White Cobra free.

‘The King’s Treasure needs a new Warden,’ he said gravely. ‘Thuu, thou hast not done well. Run to and fro and make sport, Thuu!’

‘I am ashamed. Kill me!’ hissed the White Cobra.

‘There has been too much talk of killing. We will go now. I take the thorn-pointed thing, Thuu, because I have fought and worsted thee.’

‘See, then, that the thing does not kill thee at last. It is Death! Remember, it is Death! There is enough in that thing to kill the men of all my city. Not long wilt thou hold it, Jungle Man, nor he who takes it from thee. They will kill, and kill, and kill for its sake! My strength is dried up, but the ankus will do my work. It is Death! It is Death! It is Death!’