"Even where the Men-kind came and sought to grow raji were plantain trees and palm trees – Urgh-h-ah! why should there be anything but jungle all over the world, it is so beautiful?"
"Don't cry about it, Little Bagheela," sneered Magh, "for surely there's some sort of a story, some wondrous lie, in that head of yours."
"True," continued Pardus, as though he had not caught Magh's observation, "there were disagreeable things even there. Of course, it will always be that way when the Bandar-log, the Monkeys, are about. Silly-headed thieves, they were doing no manner of good to any one; but more than once, when I've lain for hours waiting for the chance of a small kill, and the time of the eating had drawn near, everything would be upset by the mad laugh of Lungour, the Bandar-log.
"But I was caught, as Leopard has said, through the coming together of a lean stomach and a trap of the Men-kind – neither a snare, nor the Fire-stick, but a cage with a door that fell. True, inside was a Goat, but what mattered that once the door was down?
"Then they brought me down to the Raja's palace in the Plains. Stricken land! that was a place for any one to choose as a home – nothing but red earth, with less growth than there is on the end of my nose. The Men-kind lived in great square caves that blared white in the sun. Me-thinks White Leopard would have felt more at home there than I did."
"What did those of our kind eat?" queried Hathi. "Also, where the Men-kind are is the Animal they call Horse, who is a Grass-eater – was there no grass?"
"Scarce any," answered Pardus; "the Black-faced ones ran here and there with sharp claws, taking up the poor grass by the root, and all for the Raja's stables."
"What did they do with you, Bagheela?" asked Magh, anxious to hear the story, for she was getting sleepy.
"Put me in a cage in the rose garden, where were others of my kind – only they were of the color of Yellow Leopard. Of course, at first I thought it was because the Raja was not hungry, and would eat me another day; but in the next cage was a Leopard who had been there a long time, and he told me why we were shut up that way. 'It's for shikar,' he said. 'Soon all the Sahibs will gather, and we will be turned loose, and they will kill us with spears and the firestick.'"
"That's right," commented Sa'-zada, nodding his head, "I've seen it; also is it written in The Book. The Raja was a great sportsman, and each year at Christmas time they had a hunt of this kind."
"My Mate taught me a trick or two that helped pass the time," continued Black Panther. "'Bagheela,' he said to me, 'they will come to us here on Horses; you who have the end cage may perchance keep your hand in, and forget not the manner of a quick clutch with your paw. First, purr and look sleepy,' he advised; 'second, never strike when the Horse is beyond reach, for he is a creature of much fear; third, wait, wait, wait – have patience, Little Bagheela. Also, from in front nothing is done; but stand you ready at the end of your cage, which is a wall, because there they cannot see you, and if the Man comes close, strike quick and sure, for of this manner there is never but one chance.'
"Now, it happened that a fat Sahib came often to the cage, and I could see that it was to teach the Horses not to be afraid of us. It was hard to mind what my Mate said, for the Sahib poked me in the ribs with a stick, or tickled me in the face with his riding-whip; but Yellow Leopard was always whispering through his whiskers, 'Wait, wait, wait – have patience, Little Bagheela.'"
"This is a long tale," whined Magh, sleepily.
"Keep still, Little One," objected Hathi, "no great stalk is ever done in a hurry."
"One day," continued Pardus, "I heard the Horse coming by the end of my cage.
"'Quick! Up!' called my Mate, Yellow Leopard.
"Like a spring on a Buck I was up on my hind legs against the end wall, just at the last iron bar, ready. Around the corner came the Sahib quite close. It was a new Horse, and he thought to take pleasure out of frightening the poor Animal by a sudden sight of us.
"Waugh-houk! With a strong reach I had the Sahib by the leg.
"Whoo-whoo, waugh-waugh, whoo-o-o-o-waugh! how he roared. Of course, I did not get him altogether, for the Horse saved his life by jumping sideways. I licked the blood that was on my claws, and Yellow Leopard and I both laughed till the Keeper came running with a sharp iron bar."
"I warrant you didn't laugh then," chimed in Magh.
"No; he beat me, though it was all Yellow Leopard's fault. The fat Sahib swore that he would have the first spear in when I was let out at the time of the hunt. He was for having me killed in the cage; but the Raja said, 'No; his turn will come in the Shikar'; and when the Raja spoke there was an end of all argument.
"'Little Bagheela,' said Yellow Leopard to me, 'we will get away to the jungles together at the hunt time. If they let you out first – never fear, Little One, you will have a start, for that is the Raja's way, we are to have a show for our lives, though I warrant one cannot get very far in five minutes – do you run very fast, and when you have come to the small mud-caves of the Black-kind, hide in the place where the Bullocks are kept. They will not look for you there, and not finding you they will come back, thinking you have gone to the jungles. When I am let out, I, too, will go that way, and together nothing will stand between us and the hills. Should I go first I will wait for you.'
"Then one day a cage that was on wheels was put against the door behind which I was kept, and with bars that were hot they drove me into it. Then I was taken out to the fields, and when the Sahibs – there were many of them – had gone back on the road, the door was opened. Would you believe it, Friends, though I had been eating my heart out behind the bars yonder, now that I had the chance, I was almost afraid to venture on the plain. Even as I crept forth, a yellow-leafed bush suddenly bent in the wind, and I sprang into the air as though it were the charge of a Wild Boar – "
"Listen to that, Friends," grunted Soor; "of all Jungle Dwellers, he has most fear of me."
"But remembering what Yellow Leopard had said, I ran swiftly toward the little village that was between me and the hills; but not straight in the open, mind you – I had not lived by the kill in the jungle for nothing. First I leaped full over a long line of the fierce-pointed aloe bush – "
"Phrut! I know that plant," muttered Hathi; "it has points sharper than the goad of any Mahout. Sore toes! but I know it well."
"Even so," continued Pardus, "I ran swiftly along in the shadow of this, and soon found a Bullock cave such as Yellow Leopard spoke of. In the end the Men-kind could not find me, for I lay still, though once I heard the voice of the fat Sahib quite close, swearing that he longed for a sight of the 'black brute.' That was not my name, for I am Pardus the Panther.
"After a little I heard more shouting; then there was a rustling noise which I knew was the gallop of Yellow Leopard. He was calling as he ran, 'Ehow-Ehow-Hough, Bagheela!' just as we call to our Mates in the jungle.
"'A-Houk! here am I,' I cried, rushing out, thinking that we would soon be safe in the cool jungle again. And away we dashed. By the loss of a Kill! we had not gone far till almost in front of us we saw the fat Sahib and three others on their Horses full in our path.
"'Oh-ho, my Black Beauty!' he cried, when he saw me; 'now we'll wipe out the score.'"
"That's like the Men-kind," growled Raj Bagh, the Tiger; "they cage us and kill us, and if we so much as raise a claw in defence of our lives we are reviled, and they have a score against us to wipe out."
"Yes," asserted Pardus, "and long holding in their hate, too. If we fail in a kill, do we go long hungered, turning from everything else until we have slain the one that has escaped us? But there was the fat Sahib, who had not gone back with the others, but was still searching to kill me, Black Panther. Surely that was not what they call shikar (sport), but a matter of hate he had laid up against me."
"You should have taken his beatings," declared Hathi, "even as I have, more times than there are tusks to your paws; phrut, phrut! it has always been that way with us Jungle Dwellers. When the Sahib beat us it is evil fortune if we do not let it rest at that. True, there was a Mahout once that went too far – but what am I saying? surely