en fingers broad, of square-cut diamonds and rubies, and
wooden boxes, trebly clamped with iron, from which the wood had fallen
away in powder, showing the pile of uncut star-sapphires, opals,
cat's-eyes, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and garnets within.

The White Cobra was right. No mere money would begin to pay the value of
this treasure, the sifted pickings of centuries of war, plunder, trade,
and taxation. The coins alone were priceless, leaving out of count all
the precious stones; and the dead weight of the gold and silver alone
might be two or three hundred tons. Every native ruler in India to-day,
however poor, has a hoard to which he is always adding; and though, once
in a long while, some enlightened prince may send off forty or fifty
bullock-cart loads of silver to be exchanged for Government securities,
the bulk of them keep their treasure and the knowledge of it very
closely to themselves.

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 this not 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