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- Стр. 3/123
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"
His
mother
did
not
call
him
Lungri
(
the
Lame
One
)
for
nothing
,
"
said
Mother
Wolf
quietly
.
"
He
has
been
lame
in
one
foot
from
his
birth
.
That
is
why
he
has
only
killed
cattle
.
Now
the
villagers
of
the
Waingunga
are
angry
with
him
,
and
he
has
come
here
to
make
our
villagers
angry
.
They
will
scour
the
jungle
for
him
when
he
is
far
away
,
and
we
and
our
children
must
run
when
the
grass
is
set
alight
.
Indeed
,
we
are
very
grateful
to
Shere
Khan
!
"
"
Shall
I
tell
him
of
your
gratitude
?
"
said
Tabaqui
.
"
Out
!
"
snapped
Father
Wolf
.
"
Out
and
hunt
with
thy
master
.
Thou
hast
done
harm
enough
for
one
night
.
"
"
I
go
,
"
said
Tabaqui
quietly
.
"
Ye
can
hear
Shere
Khan
below
in
the
thickets
.
I
might
have
saved
myself
the
message
.
"
Father
Wolf
listened
,
and
below
in
the
valley
that
ran
down
to
a
little
river
he
heard
the
dry
,
angry
,
snarly
,
singsong
whine
of
a
tiger
who
has
caught
nothing
and
does
not
care
if
all
the
jungle
knows
it
.
"
The
fool
!
"
said
Father
Wolf
.
"
To
begin
a
night
's
work
with
that
noise
!
Does
he
think
that
our
buck
are
like
his
fat
Waingunga
bullocks
?
"
"
H'sh
.
It
is
neither
bullock
nor
buck
he
hunts
to-night
,
"
said
Mother
Wolf
.
"
It
is
Man
.
"
The
whine
had
changed
to
a
sort
of
humming
purr
that
seemed
to
come
from
every
quarter
of
the
compass
.
It
was
the
noise
that
bewilders
woodcutters
and
gypsies
sleeping
in
the
open
,
and
makes
them
run
sometimes
into
the
very
mouth
of
the
tiger
.
"
Man
!
"
said
Father
Wolf
,
showing
all
his
white
teeth
.
"
Faugh
!
Are
there
not
enough
beetles
and
frogs
in
the
tanks
that
he
must
eat
Man
,
and
on
our
ground
too
!
"
