g to and fro makes
a monkey-jest of those who have once been good hunters, and pulls the
best of us by the whiskers for sport." This was Shere Khan, the Lame
Tiger, limping down to the water. He waited a little to enjoy the
sensation he made among the deer on the opposite to lap, growling: "The
jungle has become a whelping-ground for naked cubs now. Look at me,
Man-cub!"

Mowgli looked--stared, rather--as insolently as he knew how, and in
a minute Shere Khan turned away uneasily. "Man-cub this, and Man-cub
that," he rumbled, going on with his drink, "the cub is neither man nor
cub, or he would have been afraid. Next season I shall have to beg his
leave for a drink. Augrh!"

"That may come, too," said Bagheera, looking him steadily between the
eyes. "That may come, too--Faugh, Shere Khan!--what new shame hast thou
brought here?"

The Lame Tiger had dipped his chin and jowl in the water, and dark, oily
streaks were floating from it down-stream.

"Man!" said Shere Khan coolly, "I killed an hour since." He went on
purring and growling to himself.

The line of beasts shook and wavered to and fro, and a whisper went
up that grew to a cry. "Man! Man! He has killed Man!" Then all looked
towards Hathi, the wild elephant, but he seemed not to hear. Hathi never
does anything till the time comes, and that is one of the reasons why he
lives so long.

"At such a season as this to kill Man! Was no other game afoot?" said
Bagheera scornfully, drawing himself out of the tainted water, and
shaking each paw, cat-fashion, as he did so.

"I killed for choice--not for food." The horrified whisper began again,
and Hathi's watchful little white eye cocked itself in Shere Khan's
direction. "For choice," Shere Khan drawled. "Now come I to drink and
make me clean again. Is there any to forbid?"

Bagheera's back began to curve like a bamboo in a high wind, but Hathi
lifted up his trunk and spoke quietly.

"Thy kill was from choice?" he asked; and when Hathi asks a question it
is best to answer.

"Even so. It was my right and my Night. Thou knowest, O Hathi." Shere
Khan spoke almost courteously.

"Yes, I know," Hathi answered; and, after a little silence, "Hast thou
drunk thy fill?"

"For to-night, yes."

"Go, then. The river is to drink, and not to defile. None but the Lame
Tiger would so have boasted of his right at this season when--when we
suffer together--Man and Jungle People alike. Clean or unclean, get to
thy lair, Shere