Mowgli thrust his dead branch into the fire till the twigs lit and
crackled, and whirled it above his head among the cowering wolves.

"Thou art the master," said Bagheera in an undertone. "Save Akela from
the death. He was ever thy friend."

Akela, the grim old wolf who had never asked for mercy in his life, gave
one piteous look at Mowgli as the boy stood all naked, his long black
hair tossing over his shoulders in the light of the blazing branch that
made the shadows jump and quiver.

"Good!" said Mowgli, staring round slowly. "I see that ye are dogs. I go
from you to my own people--if they be my own people. The jungle is shut
to me, and I must forget your talk and your companionship. But I will be
more merciful than ye are. Because I was all but your brother in blood,
I promise that when I am a man among men I will not betray ye to men as
ye have betrayed me." He kicked the fire with his foot, and the sparks
flew up. "There shall be no war between any of us in the Pack. But here
is a debt to pay before I go." He strode forward to where Shere Khan sat
blinking stupidly at the flames, and caught him by the tuft on his chin.
Bagheera followed in case of accidents. "Up, dog!" Mowgli cried. "Up,
when a man speaks, or I will set that coat ablaze!"

Shere Khan's ears lay flat back on his head, and he shut his eyes, for
the blazing branch was very near.

"This cattle-killer said he would kill me in the Council because he had
not killed me when I was a cub. Thus and thus, then, do we beat dogs
when we are men. Stir a whisker, Lungri, and I ram the Red Flower down
thy gullet!" He beat Shere Khan over the head with the branch, and the