What of the hunting, hunter bold?
	Brother, the watch was long and cold.
What of the quarry ye went to kill?
	Brother, he crops in the jungle still.
Where is the power that made your pride?
	Brother, it ebbs from my flank and side.
Where is the haste that ye hurry by?
	Brother, I go to my lair - to die!

Now we must go back to the first tale. When Mowgli left the wolf's cave after the fight with the Pack at the Council Rock, he went down to the ploughed lands where the villagers lived, but he would not stop there because it was too near to the Jungle, and he knew that he had made at least one bad enemy at the Council. So he hurried on, keeping to the rough road that ran down the valley, and followed it at a steady jog-trot for nearly twenty miles, till he came to a country that he did not know. The valley opened out into a great plain dotted over with rocks and cut up by ravines. At one end stood a little village, and at the other the thick Jungle came down in a sweep to the grazing-grounds, and stopped there as though it had been cut off with a hoe. All over the plain, cattle and