a little promise.

Only thy coat is lacking before I keep my word.

With the knife, with the knife that men use, with the knife of the

hunter, I will stoop down for my gift.

Waters of the Waingunga, Shere Khan gives me his coat for the love

that he bears me. Pull, Gray Brother! Pull, Akela! Heavy is

the hide of Shere Khan.

The Man Pack are angry. They throw stones and talk child’s talk.

My mouth is bleeding. Let me run away.

Through the night, through the hot night, run swiftly with me, my

brothers. We will leave the lights of the village and go to