“Be it so, then,” said Kaa. “I will give no Word; but what is in thy stomach to do when the dhole come?”

“They must swim the Waingunga. I thought to meet them with my knife in the shallows, the Pack behind me; and so stabbing and thrusting, we a little might turn them down-stream, or cool their throats.”

“The dhole do not turn and their throats are hot,” said Kaa. “There will be neither Manling nor Wolf-cub when that hunting is done, but only dry bones.”

“Alala! If we die, we die. It will be most good hunting. But my stomach is young, and I have not seen many Rains.

I am not wise nor strong. Hast thou a better plan, Kaa?”