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These
two
things
fight
together
in
me
as
the
snakes
fight
in
the
spring
.
The
water
comes
out
of
my
eyes
;
yet
I
laugh
while
it
falls
.
Why
?
I
am
two
Mowglis
,
but
the
hide
of
Shere
Khan
is
under
my
feet
.
All
the
jungle
knows
that
I
have
killed
Shere
Khan
.
Look
--
look
well
,
O
Wolves
!
Ahae
!
My
heart
is
heavy
with
the
things
that
I
do
not
understand
.
Oh
!
hush
thee
,
my
baby
,
the
night
is
behind
us
,
And
black
are
the
waters
that
sparkled
so
green
.
The
moon
,
o'er
the
combers
,
looks
downward
to
find
us
At
rest
in
the
hollows
that
rustle
between
.
Where
billow
meets
billow
,
then
soft
be
thy
pillow
,
Ah
,
weary
wee
flipperling
,
curl
at
thy
ease
!
