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 tiger whimpered and whined in an agony of fear.
"Pah! Singed jungle cat-go now! But remember when next I come to the Council Rock, as a man should come, it will be with Shere Khan's hide on my head.
For the rest, Akela goes free to live as he pleases.
Ye will not kill him, because that is not my will.
Nor do I think that ye will sit here any longer, lolling out your tongues as though ye were somebodies, instead of dogs whom I drive out-thus! Go!"
The fire was burning furiously at the end of the branch, and Mowgli struck right and left round the circle, and the wolves ran howling with the sparks burning their fur.
At last there were only Akela, Bagheera, and perhaps ten wolves that had taken Mowgli's part.
Then something began to hurt Mowgli inside him, as he had never been hurt in his life before, and he caught his breath and sobbed, and the tears ran down his face.
"What is it? What is it?" he said. "I do not wish to leave the jungle, and I do not know what this is. Am I dying, Bagheera?"
"No, Little Brother.