"It was made by men to thrust into the head of the sons of Hathi, so that the blood should pour out. I have seen the like in the street of Oodeypore, before our cages. That thing has tasted the blood of many such as Hathi."
"But why do they thrust into the heads of elephants?"
"To teach them Man"s Law. Having neither claws nor teeth, men make these things--and worse."
"Always more blood when I come near, even to the things the Man-Pack have made," said Mowgli, disgustedly. He was getting a little tired of the weight of the ankus. "If I had known this, I would not have taken it. First it was Messua"s blood on the thongs, and now it is Hathi"s.
I will use it no more. Look!"
The ankus flew sparkling, and buried itself point down thirty yards away, between the trees. "So my hands are clean of Death," said Mowgli, rubbing his palms on the fresh, moist earth. "The Thuu said Death would follow me. He is old and white and mad."
"White or black, or death or life, _I_ am going to sleep, Little Brother. I cannot hunt all night and howl all day, as do some folk."
Bagheera went off to a hunting-lair that he knew, about two miles off.
Mowgli made an easy way for himself up a convenient tree, knotted three or four creepers together, and in less time than it takes to tell was swinging in a hammock fifty feet above ground. Though he had no positive objection to strong daylight, Mowgli followed the custom of his friends, and used it as little as he could. When he waked among the very loud-voiced peoples that live in the trees, it was twilight once more, and he had been dreaming of the beautiful pebbles he had thrown away.
"At least I will look at the thing again," he said, and slid down a creeper to the earth; but Bagheera was before him. Mowgli could hear him snuffing in the half light.
"Where is the thorn-pointed thing?" cried Mowgli.
"A man has taken it. Here is the trail."
"Now we shall see whether the Thuu spoke truth. If the pointed thing is Death, that man will die. Let us follow."
"Kill first," said Bagheera. "An empty stomach makes a careless eye.
Men go very slowly, and the Jungle is wet enough to hold the lightest mark."
They killed as soon as they could, but it was nearly three hours before they finished their meat and drink and buckled down to the trail. The Jungle People know that nothing makes up for being hurried over your meals.
"Think you the pointed thing will turn in the man"s hand and kill him?" Mowgli asked. "The Thuu said it was Death."
"We shall see when we find," said Bagheera, trotting with his head low. "It is single-foot" (he meant that there was only one man), "and the weight of the thing has pressed his heel far into the ground."
"Hai! This is as clear as summer lightning," Mowgli answered; and they fell into the quick, choppy trail-trot in and out through the checkers of the moonlight, following the marks of those two bare feet.
"Now he runs swiftly," said Mowgli. "The toes are spread apart." They went on over some wet ground. "Now why does he turn aside here?"
"Wait!" said Bagheera, and flung himself forward with one superb bound as far as ever he could. The first thing to do when a trail ceases to explain itself is to cast forward without leaving your own confusing foot-marks on the ground. Bagheera turned as he landed, and faced Mowgli, crying, "Here comes another trail to meet him. It is a smaller foot, this second trail, and the toes turn inward."
Then Mowgli ran up and looked. "It is the foot of a Gond hunter," he said. "Look! Here he dragged his bow on the gra.s.s. That is why the first trail turned aside so quickly. Big Foot hid from Little Foot."
"That is true," said Bagheera. "Now, lest by crossing each other"s tracks we foul the signs, let each take one trail. I am Big Foot, Little Brother, and thou art Little Foot, the Gond."
Bagheera leaped back to the original trail, leaving Mowgli stooping above the curious narrow track of the wild little man of the woods.
"Now," said Bagheera, moving step by step along the chain of footprints, "I, Big Foot, turn aside here. Now I hide me behind a rock and stand still, not daring to shift my feet. Cry thy trail, Little Brother."
"Now, I, Little Foot, come to the rock," said Mowgli, running up his trail. "Now, I sit down under the rock, leaning upon my right hand, and resting my bow between my toes. I wait long, for the mark of my feet is deep here."
"I also," said Bagheera, hidden behind the rock. "I wait, resting the end of the thorn-pointed thing upon a stone. It slips, for here is a scratch upon the stone. Cry thy trail, Little Brother."
"One, two twigs and a big branch are broken here," said Mowgli, in an undertone. "Now, how shall I cry _that_? Ah! It is plain now. I, Little Foot, go away making noises and tramplings so that Big Foot may hear me." He moved away from the rock pace by pace among the trees, his voice rising in the distance as he approached a little cascade.
"I--go--far--away--to--where--the--noise--of--falling--water--covers-- my--noise; and--here--I--wait. Cry thy trail, Bagheera, Big Foot!"
The panther had been casting in every direction to see how Big Foot"s trail led away from behind the rock. Then he gave tongue:
"I come from behind the rock upon my knees, dragging the thorn-pointed thing. Seeing no one, I run. I, Big Foot, run swiftly. The trail is clear. Let each follow his own. I run!"
Bagheera swept on along the clearly marked trail, and Mowgli followed the steps of the Gond. For some time there was silence in the Jungle.
"Where art thou, Little Foot?" cried Bagheera. Mowgli"s voice answered him not fifty yards to the right.
"Um!" said the panther, with a deep cough. "The two run side by side, drawing nearer!"
They raced on another half mile, always keeping about the same distance, till Mowgli, whose head was not so close to the ground as Bagheera"s, cried: "They have met. Good hunting--look! Here stood Little Foot, with his knee on a rock--and yonder is Big Foot indeed!"
Not ten yards in front of them, stretched across a pile of broken rocks, lay the body of a villager of the district, a long, small-feathered Gond arrow through his back and breast.
"Was the Thuu so old and so mad, Little Brother?" said Bagheera gently. "Here is one death, at least."
"Follow on. But where is the drinker of elephant"s blood--the red-eyed thorn?"
"Little Foot has it--perhaps. It is single-foot again now."
The single trail of a light man who had been running quickly and bearing a burden on his left shoulder, held on round a long, low spur of dried gra.s.s, where each footfall seemed, to the sharp eyes of the trackers, marked in hot iron.
Neither spoke till the trail ran up to the ashes of a camp-fire hidden in a ravine.
"Again!" said Bagheera, checking as though he had been turned into stone.
The body of a little wizened Gond lay with its feet in the ashes, and Bagheera looked inquiringly at Mowgli.
"That was done with a bamboo," said the boy, after one glance. "I have used such a thing among the buffaloes when I served in the Man-Pack.
The Father of Cobras--I am sorrowful that I made a jest of him--knew the breed well, as I might have known. Said I not that men kill for idleness?"
"Indeed, they killed for the sake of the red and blue stones,"
Bagheera answered. "Remember, I was in the King"s cages at Oodeypore."
"One, two, three, four tracks," said Mowgli, stooping over the ashes.
"Four tracks of men with shod feet. They do not go so quickly as Gonds. Now, what evil had the little woodman done to them? See, they talked together, all five, standing up, before they killed him.
Bagheera, let us go back. My stomach is heavy in me, and yet it heaves up and down like an oriole"s nest at the end of a branch."
"It is not good hunting to leave game afoot. Follow!" said the panther. "Those eight shod feet have not gone far."
No more was said for fully an hour, as they worked up the broad trail of the four men with shod feet.
It was clear, hot daylight now, and Bagheera said, "I smell smoke."
"Men are always more ready to eat than to run," Mowgli answered, trotting in and out between the low scrub bushes of the new Jungle they were exploring. Bagheera, a little to his left, made an indescribable noise in his throat.