Peace Pool, but even
there the angry Little People followed and forced them to the water
again. Mowgli could hear the voice of the tailless leader bidding his
people hold on and kill out every wolf in Seeonee. But he did not waste
his time in listening.

"One kills in the dark behind us!" snapped a dhole. "Here is tainted
water!"

Mowgli had dived forward like an otter, twitched a struggling dhole
under water before he could open his mouth, and dark rings rose as the
body plopped up, turning on its side. The dholes tried to turn, but the
current prevented them, and the Little People darted at the heads and
ears, and they could hear the challenge of the Seeonee Pack growing
louder and deeper in the gathering darkness. Again Mowgli dived, and
again a dhole went under, and rose dead, and again the clamour broke
out at the rear of the pack; some howling that it was best to go ashore,
others calling on their leader to lead them back to the Dekkan, and
others bidding Mowgli show himself and be killed.

"They come to the fight with two stomachs and several voices," said Kaa.
"The rest is with thy brethren below yonder, The Little People go back
to sleep. They have chased us far. Now I, too, turn back, for I am not
of one skin with any wolf. Good hunting, Little Brother, and remember
the dhole bites low."

A wolf came running along the bank on three legs, leaping up and down,
laying his head sideways close to the ground, hunching his back, and
breaking high into the air, as though he were playing with his cubs. It
was Won-tolla, the Outlier, and he said never a word, but continued his
horrible sport beside the dholes. They had been long in the water now,
and were swimming wearily, their coats drenched and heavy, their bushy
tails dragging like sponges, so tired and shaken that they, too, were
silent, watching the pair of blazing eyes that moved abreast.

"This is no good hunting," said one, panting.

"Good hunting!" said Mowgli, as he rose boldly at the brute's side, and
sent the long knife home behind the shoulder, pushing hard to avoid his
dying snap.

"Art thou there, Man-cub?" said Won-tolla across the water.

"Ask of the dead, Outlier," Mowgli replied. "Have none come down-stream?
I have filled these dogs' mouths with dirt; I have tricked them in the
broad daylight, and their leader lacks his tail, but here be some few
for thee still. Whither shall I drive them?"

"I will wait," said Won-tolla. "The night is bef