“But, indeed, Little Brother,” Bagheera began, “we do not always — — ”

“I say ye do,” said Mowgli, shooting out his forefinger angrily. “Ye DO run away, and I, who am the Master of the Jungle, must needs walk alone. How was it last season, when I would gather sugar-cane from the fields of a Man-Pack?

I sent a runner — I sent thee! — to Hathi, bidding him to come upon such a night and pluck the sweet grass for me with his trunk.”

“He came only two nights later,” said Bagheera, cowering a little; “and of that long, sweet grass that pleased thee so he gathered more than any Man-cub could eat in all the nights of the Rains. That was no fault of mine.”