d Bagheera, hidden behind the rock. "I wait, resting the end
of the thorn-pointed thing upon a stone. It slips, for here is a scratch
upon the stone. Cry thy trail, Little Brother."

"One, two twigs and a big branch are broken here," said Mowgli, in an
undertone. "Now, how shall I cry THAT? Ah! It is plain now. I, Little
Foot, go away making noises and tramplings so that Big Foot may hear
me." He moved away from the rock pace by pace among the trees, his
voice rising in the distance as he approached a little cascade. "I--go,
far--away--to--where--the--noise--of--falling-water--covers--my--noise;
and--here--I--wait. Cry thy trail, Bagheera, Big Foot!"

The panther had been casting in every direction to see how Big Foot's
trail led away from behind the rock. Then he gave tongue:

"I come from behind the rock upon my knees, dragging the thorn-pointed
thing. Seeing no one, I run. I, Big Foot, run swiftly. The trail is
clear. Let each follow his own. I run!"

Bagheera swept on along the clearly-marked trail, and Mowgli followed
the steps of the Gond. For some time there was silence in the Jungle.

"Where art thou, Little Foot?" cried Bagheera. Mowgli's voice answered
him not fifty yards to the right.

"Um!" said the Panther, with a deep cough. "The two run side by side,
drawing nearer!"

They raced on another half-mile, always keeping about the same distance,
till Mowgli, whose head was not so close to the ground as Bagheera's,
cried: "They have met. Good hunting--look! Here stood Little Foot, with
his knee on a rock--and yonder is Big Foot indeed!"

Not ten yards in front of them, stretched across a pile of broken rocks,
lay the body of a villager of the district, a long, small-feathered Gond
arrow through his back and breast.

"Was the Thuu so old and so mad, Little Brother?" said Bagheera gently.
"Here is one death, at least."

"Follow on. But where is the drinker of elephant's blood--the red-eyed
thorn?"

"Little Foot has it--perhaps. It is single-foot again now."

The single trail of a light man who had been running quickly and bearing
a burden on his left shoulder held on round a long, low spur of dried
grass, where each footfall seemed, to the sharp eyes of the trackers,
marked in hot iron.

Neither spoke till the trail ran up to the ashes of a camp-fire hidden
in a ravine.

"Again!" said Bagheera, checking as though he had been turned into
stone.

The body of a little wizened Gond lay with its feet