Page 67 - THE JUNGLE BOOK

The Jungle Book

‘We be of one blood, ye and I,’ said Mowgli, quickly
giving the Snake’s Call. He could hear rustling and hissing
in the rubbish all round him and gave the Call a second
time, to make sure.

‘Even ssso! Down hoods all!’ said half a dozen low
voices (every ruin in India becomes sooner or later a
dwelling place of snakes, and the old summerhouse was
alive with cobras). ‘Stand still, Little Brother, for thy feet
may do us harm.’
Mowgli stood as quietly as he could, peering through
the open work and listening to the furious din of the fight
round the Black Panther—the yells and chatterings and
scufflings, and Bagheera’s deep, hoarse cough as he backed
and bucked and twisted and plunged under the heaps of
his enemies. For the first time since he was born, Bagheera
was fighting for his life.
‘Baloo must be at hand; Bagheera would not have
come alone,’ Mowgli thought. And then he called aloud:
‘To the tank, Bagheera. Roll to the water tanks. Roll and
plunge! Get to the water!’
Bagheera heard, and the cry that told him Mowgli was
safe gave him new courage. He worked his way
desperately, inch by inch, straight for the reservoirs,
halting in silence. Then from the ruined wall nearest the

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