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Updated: May 22, 2025
He walked thoughtfully and did not notice a head rise cautiously above the side of a cart in the mouth of the alley. It was the head of the reporter of Bande Mataram, whose copy would be assuredly too late for the press. Shere Ali walked on through the streets. It was late, and he met no one. There had come upon him during the last hours a great yearning for his own country.
He was soothing the buffaloes now by voice, and Akela had dropped far to the rear, only whimpering once or twice to hurry the rear-guard. It was a long, long circle, for they did not wish to get too near the ravine and give Shere Khan warning. At last Mowgli rounded up the bewildered herd at the head of the ravine on a grassy patch that sloped steeply down to the ravine itself.
The first instance took place when he was driving along the Chandni Chauk, the straight broad tree-fringed street which runs from the Lahore Gate to the Fort. Ahmed Ismail sat opposite to him, and, leaning forward, he pointed to a tree and to a tall house in front of the tree. "My Lord," said he, "could that tree speak, what groans would one hear!" "Why?" said Shere Ali listlessly.
Shere Ali had started with every man he could collect to take up the position where he meant to give battle. "I must hurry or I shall be late," said the shikari, and he crawled away through the orchard. Phillips closed the shutter again and lit the lamp. The news seemed too good to be true. But the morning broke over a city of women and old men.
I had nothing to say, and I determined to keep to the part I was brought to perform, which was that of a witness, and nothing more. If my advice were asked, I would speak boldly for Shere Ali's liberation and protest against the poor man being bought and sold in this way. This train of thought reminded me of Isaacs' words when we left Miss Westonhaugh that morning.
"The Wolves are a free people," said Father Wolf. "They take orders from the Head of the Pack, and not from any striped cattle-killer. The man's cub is ours to kill if we choose." "Ye choose and ye do not choose! What talk is this of choosing? By the bull that I killed, am I to stand nosing into your dog's den for my fair dues? It is I, Shere Khan, who speak!"
Seizing a sheet of paper, he scribbled a hasty note to Charteris. "If you are anywhere in the Adamkot direction, infringe our frontier and look me up," he concluded, after sketching roughly the state of affairs. "I have always heard of it as the most tiger-ish spot in the country, and Shere Sing may well stand us a hunt in return for all the trouble he has given me.
The Babu laughed contemptuously at the title. "Oho, the Prince! The Prince went away a week ago." Linforth turned in surprise. "Are you sure?" he asked. The Babu told him the very day on which Shere Ali had gone from Ajmere. It was on the day when the pitcher had fallen on the steps which led down to the well. Linforth had been tricked by the smiling courtier like any schoolboy.
And they wanted him to marry to marry one of his own people. Shere Ali suddenly saw the face of the Deputy Commissioner at Lahore calmly suggesting the arrangement, almost ordering it. He sat down again upon the couch and once more began to laugh. But the laughter ceased very quickly, and folding his arms upon the high end of the couch, he bowed his head upon them and was still.
Akela the lone wolf lay by the side of his rock as a sign that the leadership of the Pack was open, and Shere Khan with his following of scrap-fed wolves walked to and fro openly being flattered. Bagheera lay close to Mowgli, and the fire-pot was between Mowgli's knees.
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