“Free People,” Kaa grunted. “Free thieves! And thou hast tied thyself into the death-knot for the sake of the memory of the dead wolves? This is no good hunting.”

“It is my Word which I have spoken. The Trees know, the River knows. Till the dhole have gone by my Word comes not back to me.”

“Ngssh! This changes all trails. I had thought to take thee away with me to the northern marshes, but the Word — even the Word of a little, naked, hairless Manling — is the Word. Now I, Kaa, say — — ”

“Think well, Flathead, lest thou tie thyself into the death-knot also.

I need no Word from thee, for well I know — — ”