not sure that they have not pulled me into a hundred little headings,’ said Baloo gravely, shaking one leg after the other. ‘Wow! I am sore. Kaa, we owe thee, I think, our lives – Bagheera and I.’
‘No matter. Where is the manling?’
‘Here, in a trap. I cannot climb out,’ cried Mowgli. The curve of the broken dome was above his head.
‘Take him away. He dances like Mao the Peacock. He will crush our young,’ said the cobras inside.
‘Hah!’ said Kaa, with a chuckle, ‘he has friends everywhere, this manling. Stand back, manling; and hide you, O Poison People. I break down the wall.’
Kaa looked carefully till he found a discoloured crack in the marble tracery showing a weak spot, made two or three light taps with his head to get the distance, and then, lifting up six feet of his body clear of the ground, sent home half a dozen full-power, smashing blows, nose-first. The screen-work broke and fell away in a cloud of dust and rubbish, and Mowgli leaped through the opening and flung himself between Baloo and Bagheera – an arm round each big neck.
‘Art thou hurt?’ said Baloo, hugging him softly.
‘I am sore, hungry, and not a little bruised; but, oh, they have handled ye grievously, my Brothers! Ye bleed.’
‘Others also,’ said Bagheera, licking his lips, and looking at the monkey-dead on the terrace and round the tank.
‘It is nothing, it is nothing, if thou art safe, O my pride of all little frogs!’ whimpered Baloo.
‘Of that we shall judge later,’ said Bagheera, in a dry voice that Mowgli did not at all like. ‘But here is Kaa, to whom we owe the battle and thou owest thy life. Thank him according to our customs, Mowgli.’
Mowgli turned and saw the great python’s head swaying a foot above his own.
‘So this is the manling,’ said Kaa. ‘Very soft is his skin, and he is not so unlike the Bandar-log. Have a care, manling, that I do not mistake thee for a monkey some twilight when I have newly changed my coat.’
‘We be of one blood, thou and I,’ Mowgli answered. ‘I take my life from thee, tonight. My kill shall be thy kill if ever thou art hungry, O Kaa.’
‘All thanks, Little Brother,’ said Kaa, though his eyes twinkled. ‘And what may so bold a hunter kill? I ask that I may follow when next he goes abroad.’
‘I kill nothing – I am too little – but I drive goats toward such as can use them. When thou art empty come to me and see if I speak the truth. I have some skill in these’ – he held out his hands – ‘and if ever thou art in a trap, I may pay the debt which I owe to thee, to Bagheera, and to Baloo, here. Good hunting to ye all, my masters.’
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