comb turning over or failing away somewhere in the dark
galleries; then a booming of angry wings, and the sullen drip, drip,
drip, of the wasted honey, guttering along till it lipped over some
ledge in the open air and sluggishly trickled down on the twigs. There
was a tiny little beach, not five feet broad, on one side of the river,
and that was piled high with the rubbish of uncounted years. There were
dead bees, drones, sweepings, and stale combs, and wings of marauding
moths that had strayed in after honey, all tumbled in smooth piles of
the finest black dust. The mere sharp smell of it was enough to frighten
anything that had no wings, and knew what the Little People were.

Kaa moved up-stream again till he came to a sandy bar at the head of the
gorge.

"Here is this season's kill," said he. "Look!" On the bank lay the
skeletons of a couple of young deer and a buffalo. Mowgli could see
that neither wolf nor jackal had touched the hones, which were laid out
naturally.

"They came beyond the line; they did not know the Law," murmured
Mowgli, "and the Little People killed them. Let us go ere they wake."

"They do not wake till the dawn," said Kaa. "Now I will tell thee. A
hunted buck from the south, many, many Rains ago, came hither from the
south, not knowing the Jungle, a Pack on his trail. Being made blind by
fear, he leaped from above, the Pack running by sight, for they were
hot and blind on the trail. The sun was high, and the Little People were
many and very angry. Many, too, were those of the Pack who leaped into
the Waingunga, but they were dead ere they took water. Those who did not
leap died also in the rocks above. But the buck lived."

"How?"

"Because he came first, running for his life, leaping ere the Little
People were aware, and was in the river when they gathered to kill.
The Pack, following, was altogether lost under the weight of the Little
People."

"The buck lived?" Mowgli repeated slowly.

"At least he did not die THEN, though none waited his coming down with
a strong body to hold him safe against the water, as a certain old fat,
deaf, yellow Flathead would wait for a Manling--yea, though there were
all the dholes of the Dekkan on his trail. What is in thy stomach?"
Kaa's head was close to Mowgli's ear; and it was a little time before
the boy answered.

"It is to pull the very whiskers of Death, but--Kaa, thou art, indeed,
the wisest of all the Jungle."

"So many have said. Look no