and run in companies under the moon, and I--Hai-mai!--I am dying
in the marshes, of that poison which I have eaten." He was so sorry for
himself that he nearly wept. "And after," he went on, "they will find
me lying in the black water. Nay, I will go back to my own Jungle, and I
will die upon the Council Rock, and Bagheera, whom I love, if he is not
screaming in the valley--Bagheera, perhaps, may watch by what is left
for a little, lest Chil use me as he used Akela."

A large, warm tear splashed down on his knee, and, miserable as he was,
Mowgli felt happy that he was so miserable, if you can understand
that upside-down sort of happiness. "As Chil the Kite used Akela," he
repeated, "on the night I saved the Pack from Red Dog." He was quiet
for a little, thinking of the last words of the Lone Wolf, which you,
of course, remember. "Now Akela said to me many foolish things before he
died, for when we die our stomachs change. He said... None the less, I
AM of the Jungle!"

In his excitement, as he remembered the fight on Waingunga bank, he
shouted the last words aloud, and a wild buffalo-cow among the reeds
sprang to her knees, snorting, "Man!"

"Uhh!" said Mysa the Wild Buffalo (Mowgli could hear him turn in his
wallow), "THAT is no man. It is only the hairless wolf of the Seeonee
Pack. On such nights runs he to and fro."

"Uhh!" said the cow, dropping her head again to graze, "I thought it was
Man."

"I say no. Oh, Mowgli, is it danger?" lowed Mysa.

"Oh, Mowgli, is it danger?" the boy called back mockingly. "That is all
Mysa thinks for: Is it danger? But for Mowgli, who goes to and fro in
the Jungle by night, watching, what do ye care?"

"How loud he cries!" said the cow. "Thus do they cry," Mysa answered
contemptuously, "who, having torn up the grass, know not how to eat it."

"For less than this," Mowgli groaned to himself, "for less than this even
last Rains I had pricked Mysa out of his wallow, and ridden him through
the swamp on a rush halter." He stretched a hand to break one of the
feathery reeds, but drew it back with a sigh. Mysa went on steadily
chewing the cud, and the long grass ripped where the cow grazed. "I will
not die HERE," he said angrily. "Mysa, who is of one blood with Jacala
and the pig, would see me. Let us go beyond the swamp and see what
comes. Never have I run such a spring running--hot and cold together.
Up, Mowgli!"

He could not resist the temptation of stealing across the reeds to