different parts. The rest of the hose that was on the ground was
Kaa, the Rock Python, and Pincher was Grey Brother, only we
couldn't find him. And while most of us were talking, Dicky and
Noel got messing about with the beer-stand tigers.

And then a really sad event instantly occurred, which was not
really our fault, and we did not mean to.

That Daisy girl had been mooning indoors all the afternoon with the
Jungle Books, and now she came suddenly out, just as Dicky and Noel
had got under the tigers and were shoving them along to fright each
other. Of course, this is not in the Mowgli book at all: but they
did look jolly like real tigers, and I am very far from wishing to
blame the girl, though she little knew what would be the awful
consequence of her rash act. But for her we might have got out of
it all much better than we did. What happened was truly horrid.

As soon as Daisy saw the tigers she stopped short, and uttering a
shriek like a railway whistle she fell flat on the ground.

'Fear not, gentle Indian maid,' Oswald cried, thinking with
surprise that perhaps after all she did know how to play, 'I myself
will protect thee.' And he sprang forward with the native bow and
arrows out of uncle's study.

The gentle Indian maiden did not move.

'Come hither,' Dora said, 'let us take refuge in yonder covert
while this good knight does battle for us.' Dora might have
remembered that we were savages, but she did not. And that is Dora