All the Mowgli Stories (Macmillan Collector's Library)

‘I taught thee the Law. It is for me to speak,’ he said; ‘and, though I cannot now see the rocks before me, I see far. Little Frog, take thine own trail; make thy lair with thine own blood and pack and people; but when there is need of foot or tooth or eye, or a word carried swiftly by night, remember, Master of the Jungle, the Jungle is thine at call.’

‘The Middle Jungle is thine also,’ said Kaa. ‘I speak for no small people.’

‘Hai-mai, my brothers,’ cried Mowgli, throwing up his arms with a sob. ‘I know not what I know! I would not go; but I am drawn by both feet. How shall I leave these nights?’

‘Nay, look up, Little Brother,’ Baloo repeated. ‘There is no shame in this hunting. When the honey is eaten we leave the empty hive.’

‘Having cast the skin,’ said Kaa, ‘we may not creep into it afresh. It is the Law.’

‘Listen, dearest of all to me,’ said Baloo. ‘There is neither word nor will here to hold thee back. Look up! Who may question the Master of the Jungle? I saw thee playing among the white pebbles yonder when thou wast a little frog; and Bagheera, that bought thee for the price of a young bull newly killed, saw thee also. Of that Looking-over we two only remain; for Raksha, thy lair-mother, is dead with thy lair-father; the old Wolf-Pack is long since dead; thou knowest whither Shere Khan went, and Akela died among the dholes, where, but for thy wisdom and strength, the second Seeonee Pack would also have died. There remains nothing but old bones. It is no longer the Man-cub that asks leave of his Pack, but the Master of the Jungle that changes his trail. Who shall question Man in his ways?’

‘But Bagheera and the Bull that bought me,’ said Mowgli. ‘I would not——’

His words were cut short by a roar and a crash in the thicket below, and Bagheera, light, strong, and terrible as always, stood before him.

‘Therefore,’ he said, stretching out a dripping right paw, ‘I did not come. It was a long hunt, but he lies dead in the bushes now—a bull in his second year—the Bull that frees thee, Little Brother. All debts are paid now. For the rest, my word is Baloo’s word.’ He licked Mowgli’s foot. ‘Remember, Bagheera loved thee,’ he cried, and bounded away. At the foot of the hill he cried again long and loud, ‘Good hunting on a new trail, Master of the Jungle! Remember, Bagheera loved thee.’

‘Thou hast heard,’ said Baloo. ‘There is no more. Go now; but first come to me. O wise Little Frog, come to me!’

‘It is hard to cast the skin,’ said Kaa as Mowgli sobbed and sobbed, with his head on the blind bear’s side and his arms round his neck, while Baloo tried feebly to lick his feet.

‘The stars are thin,’ said Gray Brother, snuffing at the dawn wind. ‘Where shall we lair to-day? for, from now, we follow new trails.’

The Outsong

[This is the song that Mowgli heard behind him in the Jungle till he came to Messua’s door again.]

BALOO

For the sake of him who showed

One wise Frog the Jungle-Road,

Keep the Law the Man-Pack make—

For thy blind old Baloo’s sake!

Clean or tainted, hot or stale,

Hold it as it were the Trail,

Through the day and through the night,

Questing neither left nor right.

For the sake of him who loves

Thee beyond all else that moves,

When thy Pack would make thee pain,

Say: ‘Tabaqui sings again.’

When thy Pack would work thee ill,

Say: ‘Shere Khan is yet to kill.’

When the knife is drawn to slay,

Keep the Law and go thy way.

(Root and honey, palm and spathe,

Guard a cub from harm and scathe!)

Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,

Jungle-Favour go with thee!

KAA

Anger is the egg of Fear—

Only lidless eyes are clear.

Cobra-poison none may leech.

Even so with Cobra-speech.

Open talk shall call to thee

Strength, whose mate is Courtesy.

Send no lunge beyond thy length;

Lend no rotten bough thy strength.

Gauge thy gape with buck or goat,

Lest thine eye should choke thy throat.

After gorging, wouldst thou sleep?

Look thy den is hid and deep,

Lest a wrong, by thee forgot,

Draw thy killer to the spot.

East and West and North and South,

Wash thy hide and close thy mouth.

(Pit and rift and blue pool-brim,

Middle-Jungle follow him!)

Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,

Jungle-Favour go with thee!

BAGHEERA

In the cage my life began;

Well I know the worth of Man.

By the Broken Lock that freed—

Man-cub, ’ware the Man-cub’s breed!

Scenting-dew or starlight pale,

Choose no tangle tree-cat trail.

Pack or council, hunt or den,

Cry no truce with Jackal-Men.

Feed them silence when they say:

‘Come with us an easy way.’

Feed them silence when they seek

Help of thine to hurt the weak.

Make no bandar’s boast of skill;

Hold thy peace above the kill.

Let nor call nor song nor sign

Turn thee from thy hunting-line.

(Morning mist or twilight clear,

Serve him, Wardens of the Deer!)

Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,

Jungle-Favour go with thee!

THE THREE

On the trail that thou must tread