Читать книгу: «The Sa'-Zada Tales», страница 8

"Now as I had made up my mind to charge something that was in my path, and as the sight of Bagh in his evil temper drew my anger toward him, I drove full at his yellow throat. Just one rip of my tusks, and with a howl like a starved Jackal he cleared for the Jungle. He meant to eat that Man, you see."

"Now we are getting at the truth of the matter," cried Magh, gleefully. "When these Jungle thieves fall out, we get to know them fairly well."

"But tell us more of this hunting of your kind with the spears, O brother of the Big Tusks," pleaded Hathi. "It does seem an unjust thing."

"Well," continued the Seoni Boar, "as I have said, while in my Mother's keeping, she taught me much of the ways of the Boar Hunters. Many a run from the Spear Men I've been in. But while I was small, and had not tusks, of course I was allowed to go, even when they came full upon the top of us; but in a few years my tusks grew, and each run became harder and more difficult to get away from. Besides, early in the Cold Time, at the time the Men call Christmas, we Boars all went off by ourselves, and left the Sows and Squeakers in peace; and, while I think of it, I've no doubt it was at this time that Bagh killed so many of my people in the raji fields. Had there been a big Tusker or two there, Tiger would have been busy looking for Chital or Sambhur.

"Well, through being away from my Mother this way, and mixing with the other Boars, I got to be quite capable of taking care of myself; and, as I lived year after year, finally the Black Men, Ugh! also the White-faced ones, gave to me the name of the Seoni Boar. So, with the more knowledge I gained with my years of being, the more I required it, for the closer they hunted me.

"Strange how it is that every Jungle Dweller's hand is against the Pig. I declare here, before all you Comrades, that more than once I have been lying dog-oh, close hid in the bowlchie, when a screech-voiced Peacock has commenced to cry, 'Aih-ou, aih-ou!' as plain as you like, 'Here he is, here he is!' and down on my heels would come the Spear Men on their rushing Ponies. But I soon learned to take to the Scrub-Jungle, knowing that the ponies would not follow me. But even there in the Jungle I've been hunted by the Black-kind; and then it was the same way, enemies afoot, and enemies overhead. Langur, a fool-cousin of Magh's there, many a time has betrayed my hiding-place to the hunt Man. 'Che-che-che, wow, wow!' over my head the silly thieves would chatter and well the Huntsmen would know that I had gone that way.

"Once when I was started out of the Seoni Bund, and was making with full speed through the dol khet, a meddlesome white Dog came chasing after me, snapping at my heels, and crying, 'Bah, ki-yi, bah, ki-yi!' Well I knew that as long as that noise kept up, I might as well be running out in the open in full view, so I checked my pace a little, and the Dog, with more pluck than good sense, laid me by the ear. With one rip of my tusk sideways, I cast him open from end to end. But such matters take some time, and check one when the run is close, and before I could take to cover again, a Pony was fair on top of me.

"I jinked, as only a Boar who has been in many a run knows how. My jink was so sudden that the rider, seeking to spear me under his Pony's neck, came a full cropper in the black cotton-earth. Ugh-huh-huh! it makes me laugh now when I think of it. Of course I hadn't time to laugh then, for I had no sooner jinked clear of his spear than I saw coming up on the other side, the longest one of the Men-kind that was ever in the Jungle, and what with his spear he seemed like a tree. At once I remembered what my Mother had told me to do if ever a Spear-hunter got full on top of me. 'Into the horse's legs,' the old Dame had said; 'that's your only hope.' I must say that I charged Bagh that other time with greater joy than I slashed into that long Sahib's Pony.

"Of course, the Hunter thought I was going to run for it, so when I jinked short about and ripped his Pony's foreleg the full length of my nose, he was taken quite off his guard.

"It seemed as though part of the Jungle had fallen on me, for Pony and Huntman came down like ripe fruit off the Mowha tree. I got one rip at the Man's leg, and thought I'd made a fine cut, but I learned afterward, after they'd caught me, of course, that it was his boot-leg I had ripped – "

"Oh, Sa'-zada, I believe the Seoni Boar is the best liar we've struck yet," said Magh.

"Not so," declared the Keeper, "this tale of the pig-sticking is a true tale, for it is written in The Book."

"I only tell that which is true," declared Big Tusk, the Seoni Boar. "And before I had got to the Scrub-Jungle, I had a spear driven into my shoulder from another Sahib, but I put my teeth through the giver's foot as I knocked his pony over from the side. It was a rare fight that day, but I got away at last."

"How were you caught?" queried Magh.

"Oh, that was long afterwards, and happened because of Bagh's evil ways. The Huntman had spread a big net in the Jungle to take Bagh, who had slain a Woman; and in the drive, not knowing of this evil thing, I came full into the net, and got so tangled up that I could not move. When the White Hunter saw that it was I, the Seoni Boar, he said, 'Let us take him alive, for he has given us mighty sport and fought well.' So they made a cage and I was forced into it from the net."

"Is that all?" asked Magh.

"Yes," replied Boar.

"Well," continued the Orang-Outang, "from your own account you appear to be a very fine fellow. I can't understand why all the Jungle Dwellers, even the Men-kind, connect your name with everything that's evil. I doubt if one of them could speak as well for himself, were he allowed to tell his own story."

"As I have said before," commented Sa'-zada, "it's hardly fair to give an animal a bad name without knowing all about him, and Boar's stories have all been true, I know. But it's late now, so each one away to his cage or corral, and sleep."

ELEVENTH NIGHT
THE STORIES OF OOHOO, THE WOLF,
AND SHER ABI, THE CROCODILE

"To-night," said Sa'-zada, the Keeper, "we shall have a story from White Wolf of his home in the frozen North, and also one from Sher Abi, the Crocodile, of the warm land in which he lived, Burma."

"I am glad there is to be a tale of the North-land," said Mooswa, "for it's a lovely place."

"And Sher Abi is so stupid," added Magh the Orang, "that he's sure to fall to boasting of some of his murders."

"There's little to choose between them in that respect," commented Muskwa, "except that for cunning there is no one but Carcajou of the same wit as Wolf."

"Thank you, Comrade," cried Oohoo, the Arctic Wolf; "those of my land who are short of wit go with a lean stomach, I can tell you. But yet it is just the sweetest place that any poor animal ever lived in."

"It is," concurred Mooswa; "forests of green Spruce trees – "

"Not so, Brother Tangle-leg," objected Oohoo; "true I have been within the Timber Boundaries, but that was far to the south of my home. I remember, once upon a time, thinking to better my condition, for it was a year of scarce Caribou; I trailed down past Great Slave Lake to the home of my cousin, Blue Wolf, who was Pack Leader of the Timber Wolves. Ghurrh-h! but they led a busy life. Almost day and night they were on the hunt, for their kill was small; a Grey Rabbit, or a Grouse, or a Marten – a mere mouthful for a full-hungered Wolf.

"But in the Northland where one could travel for days and days over the white snow and the hunt meant a free run with no chance of cover for the prey, it was all a matter of strength and speed. Leopard has boasted of the merit of his spotted coat for hiding in the sun-splashed Jungle; and also Bagh has told how the stripes on his sides hide him in the strong grass. But look at me, my Comrades – "

"You are pretty," sneered Magh.

"Here I am dirty brown," resumed Oohoo, paying no attention to the taunt, "and what does that mean?"

"That you are dirty and a Wolf," answered Magh, innocently.

"It shows that I live in a dirty brown place," asserted Wolf. "We are all dirty brown here."

"I'm not," objected Python.

"You would be if you didn't lie in the water all day; but, as I was going to say, in that land of snow I was all white, and, by my cunning, with a careful stalk I always got within a running distance of – of – I mean anything I wanted to look at closely, you know."

"A Babe Caribou, I suppose," grunted Muskwa; "just to see how he was coming on. Have I not said that he has the cunning of a great thief?" Bear whispered to Hathi.

"But if he talks much the truth will come out," answered the Elephant.

"There were just three of us Plain Dwellers in all that great Barren Land," proceeded Oohoo; "my kind, and Caribou, and Musk-Ox."

"Eu-yah! the Musk-Ox are cousins of mine," remarked Bison. "Queer taste they have to live in that terrible land of rock and snow. What do they eat, Oohoo? Surely the sweet Buffalo Grass does not grow there?"

"They do not mind the cold," answered Wolf; "they have the loveliest long black hair you ever saw on any Animal. And under that again is the soft grey fur – "

"Yes," interrupted Sa'-zada to explain, "the Musk-Ox seems to have hair, and fur, and wool all on one pelt – much like a Sheep, and a Goat, and a Bison combined."

"And as for eating," resumed Oohoo, the Wolf, "the rocks are thickly covered with moss – "

"Engh-h-h! what a diet!" grunted Bison. "But you know of their manner of life, Brother Wolf – you must have paid much attention to their ways. Now in my land when Wolves came too close we gathered our Calves in the center of the herd – "

"A most wise precaution," asserted Mooswa. "In the Calf time with us the moan of the Wolf pack caused us to make ready for battle; the Grey Runners seemed always in the way of a great hunger."

"And what of grass-eating for those cousins of mine, the Caribou – what ate they?" sharply demanded Elk.

"Caribou have this manner of life," answered Oohoo. "Just at the end of the great Cold Time all the Mothers go far into the Northland, for that is the Calf time with them; and by the shores of the great Northland water their Babe Caribou come forth in peace. And for food the Mothers eat moss, even as Musk-Ox does, for there is nothing else. Near to the coming of the Cold Time again the Mothers come back with their Calves, and the Bulls, who have been in the Southland, meet them."

"Do you eat moss, Oohoo, the Wolf?" queried Magh.

"Am I a Grass-feeder? Did I eat my straw bedding and become ill, like a wide-mouthed Monkey that I know of?"

"But have you not said, Brother Wolf, that in the Northland Musk-Ox and Caribou eat moss because there is nothing else? Then what manner of food do you find?"

"Ghurr-r-h! Eh, what?" gasped Oohoo, feeling that Magh had laid bare his mode of life.

"Am I different from the others?" he snarled, seeing a broad grin hovering about the mouth of even Sher Abi, the Crocodile. "Because I am a Wolf, is there a law in the Boundaries that I shall not eat? Bagh, and Pardus, and Python, and Sher Abi, they are the Blood Kind, and do they eat moss or grass? Boar has said that all the evil of the Jungle is fastened upon the Pig, and in my land it is the Wolf that is wicked. This has been said by the Man, but are they not worse than we are? When the hunger, which is not of my desire, comes strong upon me, I go forth to seek food. I kill not Man; but if Caribou comes my way, and that which is inside of me says to make a kill, shall I do so, or lie down and die because of hunger? If a Wolf makes a kill, and feasts until his hunger is dead, and lies down to sleep, and kills no more until he is again hungered, it is all wrong, and evil words are spoken of him. But the Men kill, and kill, never stopping to eat, showing that it is not because of hunger – they kill until there is no living thing left; then they boast together of the slaughter.

"I have seen this happening at Fond du Lac, which is a narrow crossing between two lakes in my own land. There the Caribou pass when they go to the Northland; and I have seen the Redmen killing these Moss-eaters as they swam from land to land – killing them beyond all count. In the Northland the Caribou were even as Buffalo on the Plains, they were that many; and they came like a running river to the crossing at Fond du Lac. The Men-kind were hidden behind stones, and when the Caribou were in the water these Red Slayers followed in canoes, and killed with their spears, and their knives, and their guns, until everything was red with blood. Not that they needed the sweet flesh because of hunger, for from many they took out the tongue, and left all the rest to rot. We, who are Wolves, and of evil repute, are not so bad as the Men, I think.

"And also the killing of the Musk-Ox is by the Redmen," declared Oohoo.

"I am afraid we must believe that," muttered Magh, "for Musk-Ox is not here, and it is a long way to the Northland for proof."

"Neither here nor in any other animal city are there Musk-Ox," explained Sa'-zada; "for none have been brought out alive."

"None!" added Wolf solemnly. "The Redmen say that if any are taken alive the others will all pass to some other land as did Buffalo. Not but that one of the White Men tried it once; but there is also a story of Head-taking I could tell."

"Tell it," snapped Pardus; "one lie is as good as another when told of a distant Jungle."

"Well I remember that year," began Oohoo. "It was colder than any other time that I have memory of. We had gathered into a mighty Pack, Comrades; all white we were – all but our Leader, who was Black Wolf. And such hunger! E-u-uh, au-uh! I was almost blind because of the hunger pains.

"The Caribou that should have passed did not come; why, I cannot say, for it was their time of the year, the ending of the Cold Time."

"Were there no Musk-Ox?" insinuated Magh.

"A Wolf can make few kills of Musk-Ox," explained Oohoo, unguardedly; "that is – I mean – a bad Wolf who might seek a Kill of that sort. They are like Bison, or Arna, bunching up close in a pack with their big-horned heads all facing out; and even if the circle is broken, what then? their fur is so thick that it would take longer jaws than I have to cut a throat."

"You've tried it, Oohoo," suggested Magh.

"No, I've heard of this matter," he answered. "But the story was this way. That time two White Men came to the Big Lake – "

"Artillery Lake, I think," explained Sa'-zada.

"I know not, but it is a Big Water, and far north. And there they built a shack."

"You were interested," remarked Muskwa.

"There were cousins of ours, the Train Dogs, with them, so I sometimes went close for the chance of a chat – "

"The chance of a Pup, most likely," growled Gidar.

"Then one Man, with two Redmen and the Dog Train, went north after Musk-Ox. Some of us followed, for we knew that where the Men were there would be much killing, and much eating left for those of a lean stomach. It might be that some of the Dogs would die of toil, and we were that hungry, that starved, that even a Huskie would be sweet eating.

"As you know, Comrades, there is no timber grows in all that land beyond the Big Lake, so the Man carried a little wood in the Dog Sled to make hot his drinking – "

"Tea," suggested Sa'-zada.

"Day after day he tramped to the North, not seeing anything to kill; and all the time we were getting hungrier and leaner of stomach. At night we would come close to the little tepee wherein the Hunter slept, and I fear that something would have happened to him if it had not been for the wisdom of our Leader, Black Wolf.

"'Wait, Pack Comrades,' he would say, 'there will surely be a kill of many Musk-Ox. I know the way of the White Men – they come here but for the shedding of blood.'

"But one night, being close to the edge of starvation, seeing one of the Huskies come forth from the tepee, not knowing what I did – Ghur-rh! I had him by the throat. Even now as I remember it, perhaps it was another of the Pack that put his strong jaws on the Dog's gullet – yes, I think it was another.

"'Ki, yi-i-i-i! E-e-eh!' he whined.

"'Buh!' loud the Firestick barked as the White Man smote at the Pack with it.

"After a manner there was some eating that night, what with the Huskie and three of our kind the Man slew with the Firestick."

"Cannibal!" exclaimed Magh in disgust.

"It was to save our lives," exclaimed Oohoo. "At last the White Man came to a herd of Musk-Ox; but what think you of the temper Black Wolf had when he saw that the Men-kind were not for making a big Kill at all; just the matter of a Head or two to take back with them."

"Queer taste, sure enough," cried Cockatoo. "Now, if it had been a head with a crest like mine – "

"Or even if it had been Magh's head," insinuated Pardus.

"Eu-wh, eu-u-u-h! to think that a Pack of famished Wolves had trailed so far through the snow, holding back from a Kill of the Men-kind, and to get – nothing! True, the Men killed for their own eating and the Dogs', but what was that to a whole Pack? Buh-h-h! even now it makes me laugh when I think of the manner we tore down the tepee one night, for the Men had taken the eating inside to keep it from us.

"After that, having learned wisdom, they killed one of these fat creatures for us each day. Ghurrh! but a bite!

"And from listening beside the tepee at night, I learned that the Redmen were angry because of the Head-taking. These Forest-Dwellers think, Comrades, that if they sell or give away the head of a Kill all their strength in the hunt will depart."

"It's a wondrous good thing to believe, too," declared Coyote. "Many an honest meal I've come by when I was woefully hungry through the matter of a head stuck on a pole, or stump, as a gift to Matchi-Manitou. I remember one particularly fat head of Muskwa – I mean – but you were saying, Brother Oohoo, a most interesting happening of the Musk-Ox when I interrupted you."

"So, when the Redmen knew that it was heads their White Comrade was after, they were filled with anger, and a fear of the wrath of Manitou; they declared that something of an evil nature would happen to them if he took from that land the Heads. And, would you believe it, Comrades, whether there was truth in the power of this Head-matter or not, I am unable to say, being but Oohoo the Wolf, but two days from that time, as they journeyed back toward the Big Water, they fell in with a large Herd of the round-nosed Musk-Ox, and the Wind wrath came upon them. The Redmen, thinking to stop the taking of Heads, talked to the Moss-eaters in a loud voice, as though they were men, bidding them go far over the Barren Lands and tell all the other Musk-Ox to keep away, for here was a taker of Heads. But the White Man only laughed, and killed a Bull Leader who had a beautiful long black beard, swearing that such a Head was a prize indeed.

"Comrades, perhaps there is someone looking over the lives of Animals who has power with the Wind and the White Storm. Of this I know not, but it is a true tale that even as he cut the head from the dead Moss-eater, such a storm as had not been in the memory of any Dweller came with the full fury of a hungry Wolf Pack down upon that land. Like Pups of one litter all of us Wolves huddled together, pulling the cover of our tails over our noses to keep the heat in. We waited; and moved not that day, nor that night, nor the next day, nor the night after that again. Bitter as the storm was, I almost laughed at Black Wolf's lament. 'Now the men will be dead and lost to us when we might have had them,' he kept whimpering; 'there will be no more killing of Musk-Ox, and we shall go hungry.'

"As we crawled out when the storm ceased, our Leader went to where the snow was rounded up a little higher than the rest. 'Here is the Musk-Ox,' said Black Wolf; 'let us eat.'

"I remember, as we dug at the snow there was a strong scent of Man. 'It is the Hunter dead, I think,' Black Wolf said, poking his nose down into the snow.

"But all at once, 'Buh!' came a hoarse call from the Firestick, and Black Wolf, our Leader, 'E-e-he-uh!' fell over backward, dead. Then I knew what it was. The Huntman had cut open the Musk-Ox, and crawling inside, had kept his life warm through the fierce storm. But the Redmen had gone. Whether they had died because of the storm, or trailed away because of the Head-taking, I know not; but there they were not. Close curled against the Musk-Ox had lain the Hunter's three Dogs, and they, too, were alive.

"Then commenced such a trail of a Man, Comrades, as I, Wolf though I am, never wish to see again. E-u-uh! eu-u-uh! but it was dreadful, for in his face there was the Fear Look that Hathi has spoken of. Night and day it was there, I think, for he dared not sleep as he hurried back toward the Big Water. Being without a Leader, we were like a lot of Monkeys, fighting and jangling amongst ourselves. Some were for killing him, but others said, 'Wait, surely he will make a kill of Musk-Ox again, and then we shall have eating – what is one Man to a Wolf Pack in the way of food?'

"That day, coming up with a Herd, he shot two of the Moss-eaters, and, as we ate of them, he trailed to the South; but that availed him little, Comrades, for the swing of a Wolf's going is like the run of a river; and when he camped that night we also camped there. And the next day, and the next, it was the same; the Huntman pushing on with tiring walk striving for his life, and, behind the Pack – some howling for a Kill of the Man, and some fighting to save him that we might have greater eating.

"It was the last day before we came to the Big Water. That day, being full famished, for we had passed the land of the Musk-Ox – though to be sure he had killed two Caribou for us – we ate his Dogs, and he was fleeing on foot.

"I must say, Comrades, though I lay no claim to a sweet nature, yet I wished not to make a Kill of the Man. But five times, as I remember it, some of the Pack, eager for his life, closed in on him; and five times with the Firestick he slew many of my Wolf Brethren. Comrades, he made a brave fight to reach the shack."

"This is a terrible tale," cried Magh, excitedly. "Did he reach the shack alive, Oohoo?"

"Yes, but would you believe it, Comrades, the White Man who had been left behind, through being alone and through drinking much Firewater, had become mad, even as I have seen a Wolf in the time of great heat; and he knew not his Comrade, the Huntman, but called through the closed door, 'Go away, go away!'

"'I am Jack,' called the Huntman.

"'Jack is dead!' yelped the Man who was mad. 'He is dead out in the strong storm, and you are an evil spirit – go away! go away!'

"Oh, Hathi, it was dreadful, dreadful.

"'Let me in, Tom; I am Jack,' pleaded the Huntman who had come so far through the snow; and, just beyond, we of the Wolf Pack waited, waited, waited.

"Sa'-zada, the cry of the lone Wolf is not so dreadful as the yelpings of the Man who was mad. Even we of the Wolf Pack moved back a little when he called with a fierce voice. And he always answered: 'Go away! You are an evil spirit. Jack is dead! But I did not kill him – Go away!' And, Sa'-zada, though it is dreadful, yet it is true, he struck with his Firestick full through the door, and killed the Man who was Jack. And in the end he, too, died, and the Wolves buried them both after the manner of Wolves."

"Chee-hough! it's a terrible tale," said Magh.

"It is true," answered White Wolf; "and all that is the way of my land which is the Northland.

"In the Hot Time sometimes there are the little red flowers that are roses, but in the long Cold Time it is as I have said, cold and a land of much hunger. But it is my land – the Northland."

"Engh-h-hu!" sighed Sher Abi, opening his eyes as though just coming out of a dream; "I had an experience one time very much like that, Brother Wolf."

"Of a snow storm, Sher Abi?" queried Mooswa, doubtingly.

"No, my solemn friend, I know nothing of snow; I speak of having a Man inside of one. As Sa'-zada has said, I think it's quite possible, and I'm sure they must rest nice and warm, too."

"Did a Man cut you open, Magar?" sneered Magh.

"No, little Old Woman, he did not; he was busy that day taking off your tail for stealing his plantains."

"Tell us about it, Magar," lisped Python. "Wolf's tale of his snow-land makes me shiver."

"There is not much to tell," murmured Sher Abi, regretfully. "It was all over in a few minutes, and all an accident, too; and, besides, it was only one Man. You see, I was sunning myself on a mud bank in Cherogeah Creek, when I heard 'thomp, thomp, thomp!' which was the sound of a Boatman's paddle against the side of his log dug-out. I slid backward into the water, keeping just one eye above it to see what manner of traveler it might be. It was old Lahbo, a villager who often went up and down that creek, so I started to swim across, meaning to come up alongside of his canoe and wish him the favor of Buddha. As you know, Comrades, all Animals love these Buddhists, for their Master has taught them not to take the life of any Jungle Dweller.

"As I have said, I was swimming across the creek, when Lahbo, who must have been asleep, suddenly ran his canoe up on my back. It was such a light little dug-out, too, quite narrow, and being suddenly startled, I jumped, and by some means Lahbo's canoe was upset. Poor old Lahbo! How my heart ached for him when I heard him scream in the water."

"Oh, the evil liar!" whispered Magh in Hathi's ear.

"Hush-h!" whistled Elephant, softly, through his trunk; "Sher Abi was ever like this; I know him well. It is just his way of boasting; he knows nobody believes it."

"Poor Lahbo," continued Magar. "I swam quickly to help him, picked him up tenderly in my jaws, and started for the shore. I would have saved his life in another minute, but his cries had gone to the ears of some Villagers, and they were now on the bank of the creek, and with two Firesticks, also. I was in a terrible fix, Comrades; if I held my head under water, poor Lahbo would drown; if I held it up, the Village Men would kill me with the Firestick."

"How did it end, Saver of Life?" asked Pardus. "Did poor Lahbo ask you to swallow him to save his life?"

"I really can't say what did happen," answered Sher Abi. "To this day tears come into my eyes when I think of poor Lahbo. And it was all the fault of the Villagers, for when the Firestick coughed, I think the Man-fear, that Hathi has spoken of, came over him, for he commenced to wriggle about so that I couldn't hold him. I was so careful, too, for my teeth are sharp, and I was afraid of hurting him. But, anyway, before I knew it, Ee-eh-he! he had slipped down my throat; poor Lahbo! And do you know, Comrades, I'm a little afraid I'm not done with him yet, for he had a big two-handed dah (sword) in his waist-band, and I know that some of the pains I feel at times are due to that; there's nothing so hard to digest as a Burmese dah. And to this day, Comrades, sometimes when I'm jumping about it seems to me that bangles and rings that are inside of me string themselves on that sword – I fancy at times I can hear them jingle."

"How did you come to have bangles inside of you?" asked Magh most solicitously.

"Engh-hu! little Moon-face, you make me very tired. If any one tells a tale you try to put false words into his mouth."

"And bangles," snapped Magh.

"Who spoke of bangles?" asked Sher Abi. "I said not that they were bangles, but that it was like that – the pains I mean. Perhaps even Lahbo dropped the dah overboard, for all I know. And look here, little one, Moon-faced Languar, if you doubt what I say, you may go inside and see for yourself."

"How came you to this place, Sher Abi?" asked Mooswa. "Did the Villagers catch you then?"

"Not that time. But once, hearing a Pariah Dog in great distress, I thought he called to me for aid, even as poor Lahbo had done, so I swam quickly to lend him help – "

"Poor Dog," jeered Magh.

"But it was all a vile trick of the Men-kind," declared Magar; "though at the time, not knowing of this, I paid no heed to the matter. There were two long rows of stakes in the water coming close together at one end – "

"Lough-hu! I know," murmured Buffalo; "the walls of a stockade."

"Yes," sighed Sher Abi. "And as I pushed through the small end, the poor Dog being just beyond, and in great distress, a big rope drew tight about my neck, and before I could so much as object, many of the Men-kind pulled me out on to the dry land. Then I was sent here to Sa'-zada."

"Well, well," murmured Hathi, "it seems to me that every Jungle-Dweller thinks he's badly treated, but judging from all the tales I've heard I think we've all got our faults – I think we're nearly as bad as the Men-kind."

"My people are not," objected Buffalo; "we never did harm to anyone."

"Neither did we," exclaimed Mooswa.

"Nor we," added Elk; and soon the clamor became general, all holding that the Men-kind who killed almost every animal for the sake of taking its life, and not because they were driven to it by lean stomachs, were much worse than the Jungle-Dwellers.

"Well, well," decided Hathi, "it seems that most of you are against me, anyway. I think Buffalo is right in what he says, but some of us have done much wrong to the Men-kind – "

"Meaning me, of course," ejaculated Wild Boar. "I, who lay no claim to being good, and who am counted the worst of all Animals, say, with Buffalo, that the Men-kind have done more harm to me than I to them, and have been of less benefit to me than I to them."

Then Sa'-zada spoke: "Comrades, this is a question that we can't settle. If we were all like the Buddhists, and took no life except because of great need, perhaps it would be better. But now you must all go back to your cages and corrals to sleep."