The jungle has many tongues. I know them all.
A little thou knowest, but not much. See, O Bagheera, they never thank
their teacher. Not one small wolfling has ever come back to thank
old Baloo for his teachings. Say the word for the Hunting-People,
then--great scholar.
We be of one blood, ye and I, said Mowgli, giving the words the Bear
accent which all the Hunting People use.
Good. Now for the birds.
Mowgli repeated, with the Kite s whistle at the end of the sentence.
Now for the Snake-People, said Bagheera.
The answer was a perfectly indescribable hiss, and Mowgli kicked up his
feet behind, clapped his hands together to applaud himself, and jumped
on to Bagheera s back, where he sat sideways, drumming with his heels on
the glossy skin and making the worst faces he could think of at Baloo.
There--there! That was worth a little bruise, said the brown bear
tenderly. Some day thou wilt remember me. Then he turned aside to
tell Bagheera how he had begged the Master Words from Hathi the Wild
Elephant, who knows all about these things, and how Hathi had taken
Mowgli down to a pool to get the Snake Word from a water-snake, because
Baloo could not pronounce it, and how Mowgli was now reasonably safe
against all accidents in the jungle, because neither snake, bird, nor
beast would hurt him.
No one then is to be feared, Baloo wound up, patting his big furry
stomach with pride.
Except his own tribe, said Bagheera, under his breath; and then aloud
to Mowgli, Have a care for my ribs, Little Brother! What is all this
dancing up and down?
Mowgli had been trying to make himself heard by pulling at Bagheera s
shoulder fur and kicking hard. When the two listened to him he was
shouting at the top of his voice, And so I shall have a tribe of my
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