Mowgli turn into a tiger too.
Maharaj! Great King, he said at last in a husky whisper.
Yes, said Mowgli, without turning his head, chuckling a little.
I am an old man. I did not know that thou wast anything more than a
herdsboy. May I rise up and go away, or will thy servant tear me to
pieces?
Go, and peace go with thee. Only, another time do not meddle with my
game. Let him go, Akela.
Buldeo hobbled away to the village as fast as he could, looking back
over his shoulder in case Mowgli should change into something terrible.
When he got to the village he told a tale of magic and enchantment and
sorcery that made the priest look very grave.
Mowgli went on with his work, but it was nearly twilight before he and
the wolves had drawn the great gay skin clear of the body.
Now we must hide this and take the buffaloes home! Help me to herd
them, Akela.
The herd rounded up in the misty twilight, and when they got near the
village Mowgli saw lights, and heard the conches and bells in the temple
blowing and banging. Half the village seemed to be waiting for him
by the gate. That is because I have killed Shere Khan, he said
to himself. But a shower of stones whistled about his ears, and the
villagers shouted: Sorcerer! Wolf s brat! Jungle demon! Go away! Get
hence quickly or the priest will turn thee into a wolf again. Shoot,
Buldeo, shoot!
The old Tower musket went off with a bang, and a young buffalo bellowed
in pain.
More sorcery! shouted the villagers. He can turn bullets. Buldeo,
that was thy buffalo.
Now what is this? said Mowgli, bewildered, as the stones flew thicker.
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