Mowgli, who had been trained under the Law of the Jungle, did not like
or understand this kind of life. The monkeys dragged him into the Cold
Lairs late in the afternoon, and instead of going to sleep, as Mowgli
would have done after a long journey, they joined hands and danced about
and sang their foolish songs. One of the monkeys made a speech and told
his companions that Mowgli's capture marked a new thing in the history
of the Bandar-log, for Mowgli was going to show them how to weave sticks
and canes together as a protection against rain and cold. Mowgli picked
up some creepers and began to work them in and out, and the monkeys
tried to imitate; but in a very few minutes they lost interest and began
to pull their friends' tails or jump up and down on all fours, coughing.

"I wish to eat," said Mowgli. "I am a stranger in this part of the
jungle. Bring me food, or give me leave to hunt here."

Twenty or thirty monkeys bounded away to bring him nuts and wild
pawpaws. But they fell to fighting on the road, and it was too much
trouble to go back with what was left of the fruit. Mowgli was sore and
angry as well as hungry, and he roamed through the empty city giving the
Strangers' Hunting Call from time to time, but no one answered him, and
Mowgli felt that he had reached a very bad place indeed. "All that Baloo
has said about the Bandar-log is true," he thought to himself. "They
have no Law, no Hunting Call, and no leaders--nothing but foolish words
and little picking thievish hands. So if I am starved or killed here,
it will be all my own fault. But I must try to return to my own jungle.
Baloo will surely beat me, but that is better than chasing silly rose
leaves with the Bandar-log."

No sooner had he walked to the city wall than the monkeys pulled him