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It was the jackal Tabaqui, the Dish-licker and the wolves of India despise Tabaqui because he runs about making mischief, and telling tales, and eating rags and pieces of leather from the village rubbish-heaps.
The moonlight was blocked out of the mouth of the cave, for Shere Khan's great square head and shoulders were thrust into the entrance. Tabaqui, behind him, was squeaking: "My lord, my lord, it went in here!" "Shere Khan does us great honor," said Father Wolf, but his eyes were very angry. "What does Shere Khan need?" "My quarry. A man's cub went this way," said Shere Khan.
'Tabaqui told him that, I know. He would never have thought of it alone. Mowgli stood with his finger in his mouth, thinking. 'The big ravine of the Waingunga. That opens out on the plain not half a mile from here. I can take the herd round through the jungle to the head of the ravine and then sweep down but he would slink out at the foot. We must block that end.
They will scour the jungle for him when he is far away, and we and our children must run when the grass is set alight. Indeed, we are very grateful to Shere Khan!" "Shall I tell him of your gratitude?" said Tabaqui. "Out!" snapped Father Wolf. "Out and hunt with thy master. Thou hast done harm enough for one night." "I go," said Tabaqui quietly. "Ye can hear Shere Khan below in the thickets.
But they are afraid of him too, because Tabaqui, more than anyone else in the jungle, is apt to go mad, and then he forgets that he was ever afraid of anyone, and runs through the forest biting everything in his way. Even the tiger runs and hides when little Tabaqui goes mad, for madness is the most disgraceful thing that can overtake a wild creature.
A black shadow dropped down into the circle. It was Bagheera the Black Panther, inky black all over, but with the panther markings showing up in certain lights like the pattern of watered silk. Everybody knew Bagheera, and nobody cared to cross his path; for he was as cunning as Tabaqui, as bold as the wild buffalo, and as reckless as the wounded elephant.
We call it hydrophobia, but they call it dewanee the madness and run. "Enter, then, and look," said Father Wolf stiffly, "but there is no food here." "For a wolf, no," said Tabaqui, "but for so mean a person as myself a dry bone is a good feast. He scuttled to the back of the cave, where he found the bone of a buck with some meat on it, and sat cracking the end merrily.
Tabaqui sat still, rejoicing in the mischief that he had made, and then he said spitefully: 'Shere Khan, the Big One, has shifted his hunting-grounds. He will hunt among these hills for the next moon, so he has told me. Shere Khan was the tiger who lived near the Waingunga River, twenty miles away.
It pleased him to see Mother and Father Wolf look uncomfortable. Tabaqui sat still, rejoicing in the mischief that he had made, and then he said spitefully: "Shere Khan, the Big One, has shifted his hunting grounds. He will hunt among these hills for the next moon, so he has told me." Shere Khan was the tiger who lived near the Waingunga River, twenty miles away. "He has no right!"
Mowgli frowned. "I am not afraid of Shere Khan, but Tabaqui is very cunning." "Have no fear," said Gray Brother, licking his lips a little. "I met Tabaqui in the dawn. Now he is telling all his wisdom to the kites, but he told me everything before I broke his back. Shere Khan's plan is to wait for thee at the village gate this evening for thee and for no one else.
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