The Jungle Book
by Rudyard Kipling
Ch. 7:-8 Lukannon
The song of pleasant
stations beside the salt lagoons, The song of blowing squadrons that shuffled
down the dunes, The song of midnight dances that churned the sea to flame-- The
Beaches of Lukannon--before the sealers came!
I met my mates in the morning (and, oh,
but I am old!)
Where roaring on the ledges the summer
ground-swell rolled;
I heard them lift the chorus that drowned
the breakers' song—
The Beaches of Lukannon—two million voices
strong.
The song of pleasant stations beside the
salt lagoons,
The song of blowing squadrons that
shuffled down the dunes,
The song of midnight dances that churned
the sea to flame—
The Beaches of Lukannon—before the sealers
came!
I met my mates in the morning (I'll never
meet them more!);
They came and went in legions that
darkened all the shore.
And o'er the foam-flecked offing as far as
voice could reach
We hailed the landing-parties and we sang
them up the beach.
The Beaches of Lukannon—the winter wheat
so tall—
The dripping, crinkled lichens, and the
sea-fog drenching all!
The platforms of our playground, all
shining smooth and worn!
The Beaches of Lukannon—the home where we
were born!
I met my mates in the morning, a broken,
scattered band.
Men shoot us in the water and club us on
the land;
Men drive us to the Salt House like silly
sheep and tame,
And still we sing Lukannon—before the
sealers came.
Wheel down, wheel down to southward; oh,
Gooverooska, go!
And tell the Deep-Sea Viceroys the story
of our woe;
Ere, empty as the shark's egg the tempest
flings ashore,
The Beaches of Lukannon shall know their
sons no more!
The Jungle Book
by Rudyard Kipling
Ch. 8:
"Rikki-Tikki-Tavi"
"Ouch! He's
tickling under my chin," said Teddy.
Rikki-tikki looked
down between the boy's collar and neck, snuffed at his ear, and climbed down to
the floor, where he sat rubbing his nose.
"Good
gracious," said Teddy's mother, "and that's a wild creature! I
suppose he's so tame because we've been kind to him."
"All mongooses
are like that," said her husband. "If Teddy doesn't pick him up by
the tail, or try to put him in a cage, he'll run in and out of the house all
day long. Let's give him something to eat."
They gave him a little
piece of raw meat. Rikki-tikki liked it immensely, and when it was finished he
went out into the veranda and sat in the sunshine and fluffed up his fur to
make it dry to the roots. Then he felt better.
"There are more
things to find out about in this house," he said to himself, "than
all my family could find out in all their lives. I shall certainly stay and
find out."
He spent all that day
roaming over the house. He nearly drowned himself in the bath-tubs, put his
nose into the ink on a writing table, and burned it on the end of the big man's
cigar, for he climbed up in the big man's lap to see how writing was done. At
nightfall he ran into Teddy's nursery to watch how kerosene lamps were lighted,
and when Teddy went to bed Rikki-tikki climbed up too. But he was a restless
companion, because he had to get up and attend to every noise all through the
night, and find out what made it. Teddy's mother and father came in, the last
thing, to look at their boy, and Rikki-tikki was awake on the pillow. "I
don't like that," said Teddy's mother. "He may bite the child."
"He'll do no such thing," said the father. "Teddy's safer with
that little beast than if he had a bloodhound to watch him. If a snake came
into the nursery now--"
But Teddy's mother
wouldn't think of anything so awful.
Early in the morning
Rikki-tikki came to early breakfast in the veranda riding on Teddy's shoulder,
and they gave him banana and some boiled egg. He sat on all their laps one
after the other, because every well-brought-up mongoose always hopes to be a
house mongoose some day and have rooms to run about in; and Rikki-tikki's
mother (she used to live in the general's house at Segowlee) had carefully told
Rikki what to do if ever he came across white men.
Then Rikki-tikki went
out into the garden to see what was to be seen. It was a large garden, only
half cultivated, with bushes, as big as summer-houses, of Marshal Niel roses,
lime and orange trees, clumps of bamboos, and thickets of high grass.
Rikki-tikki licked his lips. "This is a splendid hunting-ground," he
said, and his tail grew bottle-brushy at the thought of it, and he scuttled up
and down the garden, snuffing here and there till he heard very sorrowful
voices in a thorn-bush.
It was Darzee, the
Tailorbird, and his wife. They had made a beautiful nest by pulling two big
leaves together and stitching them up the edges with fibers, and had filled the
hollow with cotton and downy fluff. The nest swayed to and fro, as they sat on
the rim and cried.
"What is the
matter?" asked Rikki-tikki.
"We are very
miserable," said Darzee. "One of our babies fell out of the nest
yesterday and Nag ate him."
"H'm!" said
Rikki-tikki, "that is very sad--but I am a stranger here. Who is
Nag?"
Darzee and his wife
only cowered down in the nest without answering, for from the thick grass at
the foot of the bush there came a low hiss--a horrid cold sound that made
Rikki-tikki jump back two clear feet. Then inch by inch out of the grass rose
up the head and spread hood of Nag, the big black cobra, and he was five feet
long from tongue to tail. When he had lifted one-third of himself clear of the
ground, he stayed balancing to and fro exactly as a dandelion tuft balances in
the wind, and he looked at Rikki-tikki with the wicked snake's eyes that never
change their expression, whatever the snake may be thinking of.
"Who is
Nag?" said he. "I am Nag. The great God Brahm put his mark upon all
our people, when the first cobra spread his hood to keep the sun off Brahm as
he slept. Look, and be afraid!"
He spread out his hood
more than ever, and Rikki-tikki saw the spectacle-mark on the back of it that
looks exactly like the eye part of a hook-and-eye fastening. He was afraid for
the minute, but it is impossible for a mongoose to stay frightened for any length
of time, and though Rikki-tikki had never met a live cobra before, his mother
had fed him on dead ones, and he knew that all a grown mongoose's business in
life was to fight and eat snakes. Nag knew that too and, at the bottom of his
cold heart, he was afraid.
"Well," said
Rikki-tikki, and his tail began to fluff up again, "marks or no marks, do
you think it is right for you to eat fledglings out of a nest?"
Nag was thinking to
himself, and watching the least little movement in the grass behind Rikki-tikki.
He knew that mongooses in the garden meant death sooner or later for him and
his family, but he wanted to get Rikki-tikki off his guard. So he dropped his
head a little, and put it on one side.
"Let us
talk," he said. "You eat eggs. Why should not I eat birds?"
"Behind you! Look
behind you!" sang Darzee.
Rikki-tikki knew
better than to waste time in staring. He jumped up in the air as high as he
could go, and just under him whizzed by the head of Nagaina, Nag's wicked wife.
She had crept up behind him as he was talking, to make an end of him. He heard
her savage hiss as the stroke missed. He came down almost across her back, and
if he had been an old mongoose he would have known that then was the time to
break her back with one bite; but he was afraid of the terrible lashing return
stroke of the cobra. He bit, indeed, but did not bite long enough, and he
jumped clear of the whisking tail, leaving Nagaina torn and angry.
"Wicked, wicked
Darzee!" said Nag, lashing up as high as he could reach toward the nest in
the thorn-bush. But Darzee had built it out of reach of snakes, and it only
swayed to and fro.
Rikki-tikki felt his
eyes growing red and hot (when a mongoose's eyes grow red, he is angry), and he
sat back on his tail and hind legs like a little kangaroo, and looked all round
him, and chattered with rage. But Nag and Nagaina had disappeared into the
grass. When a snake misses its stroke, it never says anything or gives any sign
of what it means to do next. Rikki-tikki did not care to follow them, for he
did not feel sure that he could manage two snakes at once. So he trotted off to
the gravel path near the house, and sat down to think. It was a serious matter
for him.
If you read the old
books of natural history, you will find they say that when the mongoose fights
the snake and happens to get bitten, he runs off and eats some herb that cures
him. That is not true. The victory is only a matter of quickness of eye and
quickness of foot--snake's blow against mongoose's jump--and as no eye can follow
the motion of a snake's head when it strikes, this makes things much more
wonderful than any magic herb. Rikki-tikki knew he was a young mongoose, and it
made him all the more pleased to think that he had managed to escape a blow
from behind. It gave him confidence in himself, and when Teddy came running
down the path, Rikki-tikki was ready to be petted.
But just as Teddy was
stooping, something wriggled a little in the dust, and a tiny voice said:
"Be careful. I am Death!" It was Karait, the dusty brown snakeling
that lies for choice on the dusty earth; and his bite is as dangerous as the
cobra's. But he is so small that nobody thinks of him, and so he does the more
harm to people.
Rikki-tikki's eyes
grew red again, and he danced up to Karait with the peculiar rocking, swaying
motion that he had inherited from his family. It looks very funny, but it is so
perfectly balanced a gait that you can fly off from it at any angle you please,
and in dealing with snakes this is an advantage. If Rikki-tikki had only known,
he was doing a much more dangerous thing than fighting Nag, for Karait is so
small, and can turn so quickly, that unless Rikki bit him close to the back of
the head, he would get the return stroke in his eye or his lip. But Rikki did
not know. His eyes were all red, and he rocked back and forth, looking for a
good place to hold. Karait struck out. Rikki jumped sideways and tried to run
in, but the wicked little dusty gray head lashed within a fraction of his
shoulder, and he had to jump over the body, and the head followed his heels
close.
Teddy shouted to the
house: "Oh, look here! Our mongoose is killing a snake." And
Rikki-tikki heard a scream from Teddy's mother. His father ran out with a
stick, but by the time he came up, Karait had lunged out once too far, and
Rikki-tikki had sprung, jumped on the snake's back, dropped his head far
between his forelegs, bitten as high up the back as he could get hold, and
rolled away. That bite paralyzed Karait, and Rikki-tikki was just going to eat him
up from the tail, after the custom of his family at dinner, when he remembered
that a full meal makes a slow mongoose, and if he wanted all his strength and
quickness ready, he must keep himself thin.
He went away for a
dust bath under the castor-oil bushes, while Teddy's father beat the dead
Karait. "What is the use of that?" thought Rikki-tikki. "I have
settled it all;" and then Teddy's mother picked him up from the dust and
hugged him, crying that he had saved Teddy from death, and Teddy's father said
that he was a providence, and Teddy looked on with big scared eyes. Rikki-tikki
was rather amused at all the fuss, which, of course, he did not understand.
Teddy's mother might just as well have petted Teddy for playing in the dust.
Rikki was thoroughly enjoying himself.
That night at dinner,
walking to and fro among the wine-glasses on the table, he might have stuffed
himself three times over with nice things. But he remembered Nag and Nagaina,
and though it was very pleasant to be patted and petted by Teddy's mother, and
to sit on Teddy's shoulder, his eyes would get red from time to time, and he
would go off into his long war cry of "Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tchk!"
Teddy carried him off
to bed, and insisted on Rikki-tikki sleeping under his chin. Rikki-tikki was
too well bred to bite or scratch, but as soon as Teddy was asleep he went off
for his nightly walk round the house, and in the dark he ran up against
Chuchundra, the musk-rat, creeping around by the wall. Chuchundra is a
broken-hearted little beast. He whimpers and cheeps all the night, trying to
make up his mind to run into the middle of the room. But he never gets there.
"Don't kill
me," said Chuchundra, almost weeping. "Rikki-tikki, don't kill
me!"
"Do you think a
snake-killer kills muskrats?" said Rikki-tikki scornfully.
"Those who kill
snakes get killed by snakes," said Chuchundra, more sorrowfully than ever.
"And how am I to be sure that Nag won't mistake me for you some dark
night?"
"There's not the
least danger," said Rikki-tikki. "But Nag is in the garden, and I
know you don't go there."
"My cousin Chua,
the rat, told me--" said Chuchundra, and then he stopped.
"Told you
what?"
"H'sh! Nag is
everywhere, Rikki-tikki. You should have talked to Chua in the garden."
"I didn't--so you
must tell me. Quick, Chuchundra, or I'll bite you!"
Chuchundra sat down
and cried till the tears rolled off his whiskers. "I am a very poor
man," he sobbed. "I never had spirit enough to run out into the
middle of the room. H'sh! I mustn't tell you anything. Can't you hear, Rikki-tikki?"
Rikki-tikki listened.
The house was as still as still, but he thought he could just catch the
faintest scratch-scratch in the world--a noise as faint as that of a wasp
walking on a window-pane--the dry scratch of a snake's scales on brick-work.
"That's Nag or
Nagaina," he said to himself, "and he is crawling into the bath-room
sluice. You're right, Chuchundra; I should have talked to Chua."
He stole off to
Teddy's bath-room, but there was nothing there, and then to Teddy's mother's
bathroom. At the bottom of the smooth plaster wall there was a brick pulled out
to make a sluice for the bath water, and as Rikki-tikki stole in by the masonry
curb where the bath is put, he heard Nag and Nagaina whispering together
outside in the moonlight.
"When the house
is emptied of people," said Nagaina to her husband, "he will have to
go away, and then the garden will be our own again. Go in quietly, and remember
that the big man who killed Karait is the first one to bite. Then come out and
tell me, and we will hunt for Rikki-tikki together."
"But are you sure
that there is anything to be gained by killing the people?" said Nag.
"Everything. When
there were no people in the bungalow, did we have any mongoose in the garden?
So long as the bungalow is empty, we are king and queen of the garden; and
remember that as soon as our eggs in the melon bed hatch (as they may
tomorrow), our children will need room and quiet."
"I had not
thought of that," said Nag. "I will go, but there is no need that we
should hunt for Rikki-tikki afterward. I will kill the big man and his wife,
and the child if I can, and come away quietly. Then the bungalow will be empty,
and Rikki-tikki will go."
Rikki-tikki tingled
all over with rage and hatred at this, and then Nag's head came through the
sluice, and his five feet of cold body followed it. Angry as he was,
Rikki-tikki was very frightened as he saw the size of the big cobra. Nag coiled
himself up, raised his head, and looked into the bathroom in the dark, and
Rikki could see his eyes glitter.
"Now, if I kill
him here, Nagaina will know; and if I fight him on the open floor, the odds are
in his favor. What am I to do?" said Rikki-tikki-tavi.
Nag waved to and fro,
and then Rikki-tikki heard him drinking from the biggest water-jar that was
used to fill the bath. "That is good," said the snake. "Now,
when Karait was killed, the big man had a stick. He may have that stick still,
but when he comes in to bathe in the morning he will not have a stick. I shall
wait here till he comes. Nagaina--do you hear me?--I shall wait here in the
cool till daytime."
There was no answer
from outside, so Rikki-tikki knew Nagaina had gone away. Nag coiled himself
down, coil by coil, round the bulge at the bottom of the water jar, and
Rikki-tikki stayed still as death. After an hour he began to move, muscle by
muscle, toward the jar. Nag was asleep, and Rikki-tikki looked at his big back,
wondering which would be the best place for a good hold. "If I don't break
his back at the first jump," said Rikki, "he can still fight. And if
he fights--O Rikki!" He looked at the thickness of the neck below the
hood, but that was too much for him; and a bite near the tail would only make
Nag savage.
"It must be the
head"' he said at last; "the head above the hood. And, when I am once
there, I must not let go."
Then he jumped. The
head was lying a little clear of the water jar, under the curve of it; and, as
his teeth met, Rikki braced his back against the bulge of the red earthenware
to hold down the head. This gave him just one second's purchase, and he made
the most of it. Then he was battered to and fro as a rat is shaken by a dog--to
and fro on the floor, up and down, and around in great circles, but his eyes
were red and he held on as the body cart-whipped over the floor, upsetting the
tin dipper and the soap dish and the flesh brush, and banged against the tin
side of the bath. As he held he closed his jaws tighter and tighter, for he
made sure he would be banged to death, and, for the honor of his family, he
preferred to be found with his teeth locked. He was dizzy, aching, and felt
shaken to pieces when something went off like a thunderclap just behind him. A
hot wind knocked him senseless and red fire singed his fur. The big man had
been wakened by the noise, and had fired both barrels of a shotgun into Nag
just behind the hood.
Rikki-tikki held on
with his eyes shut, for now he was quite sure he was dead. But the head did not
move, and the big man picked him up and said, "It's the mongoose again,
Alice. The little chap has saved our lives now."
Then Teddy's mother
came in with a very white face, and saw what was left of Nag, and Rikki-tikki
dragged himself to Teddy's bedroom and spent half the rest of the night shaking
himself tenderly to find out whether he really was broken into forty pieces, as
he fancied.
When morning came he
was very stiff, but well pleased with his doings. "Now I have Nagaina to
settle with, and she will be worse than five Nags, and there's no knowing when
the eggs she spoke of will hatch. Goodness! I must go and see Darzee," he
said.
Without waiting for
breakfast, Rikki-tikki ran to the thornbush where Darzee was singing a song of
triumph at the top of his voice. The news of Nag's death was all over the
garden, for the sweeper had thrown the body on the rubbish-heap.
"Oh, you stupid
tuft of feathers!" said Rikki-tikki angrily. "Is this the time to
sing?"
"Nag is dead--is
dead--is dead!" sang Darzee. "The valiant Rikki-tikki caught him by
the head and held fast. The big man brought the bang-stick, and Nag fell in two
pieces! He will never eat my babies again."
"All that's true
enough. But where's Nagaina?" said Rikki-tikki, looking carefully round
him.
"Nagaina came to
the bathroom sluice and called for Nag," Darzee went on, "and Nag
came out on the end of a stick--the sweeper picked him up on the end of a stick
and threw him upon the rubbish heap. Let us sing about the great, the red-eyed
Rikki-tikki!" And Darzee filled his throat and sang.
"If I could get
up to your nest, I'd roll your babies out!" said Rikki-tikki. "You
don't know when to do the right thing at the right time. You're safe enough in
your nest there, but it's war for me down here. Stop singing a minute,
Darzee."
"For the great,
the beautiful Rikki-tikki's sake I will stop," said Darzee. "What is
it, O Killer of the terrible Nag?"
"Where is
Nagaina, for the third time?"
"On the rubbish
heap by the stables, mourning for Nag. Great is Rikki-tikki with the white
teeth."
"Bother my white
teeth! Have you ever heard where she keeps her eggs?"
"In the melon
bed, on the end nearest the wall, where the sun strikes nearly all day. She hid
them there weeks ago."
"And you never
thought it worth while to tell me? The end nearest the wall, you said?"
"Rikki-tikki, you
are not going to eat her eggs?"
"Not eat exactly;
no. Darzee, if you have a grain of sense you will fly off to the stables and
pretend that your wing is broken, and let Nagaina chase you away to this bush.
I must get to the melon-bed, and if I went there now she'd see me."
Darzee was a
feather-brained little fellow who could never hold more than one idea at a time
in his head. And just because he knew that Nagaina's children were born in eggs
like his own, he didn't think at first that it was fair to kill them. But his
wife was a sensible bird, and she knew that cobra's eggs meant young cobras
later on. So she flew off from the nest, and left Darzee to keep the babies
warm, and continue his song about the death of Nag. Darzee was very like a man
in some ways.
She fluttered in front
of Nagaina by the rubbish heap and cried out, "Oh, my wing is broken! The
boy in the house threw a stone at me and broke it." Then she fluttered
more desperately than ever.
Nagaina lifted up her
head and hissed, "You warned Rikki-tikki when I would have killed him.
Indeed and truly, you've chosen a bad place to be lame in." And she moved
toward Darzee's wife, slipping along over the dust.
"The boy broke it
with a stone!" shrieked Darzee's wife.
"Well! It may be
some consolation to you when you're dead to know that I shall settle accounts
with the boy. My husband lies on the rubbish heap this morning, but before
night the boy in the house will lie very still. What is the use of running
away? I am sure to catch you. Little fool, look at me!"
Darzee's wife knew
better than to do that, for a bird who looks at a snake's eyes gets so
frightened that she cannot move. Darzee's wife fluttered on, piping
sorrowfully, and never leaving the ground, and Nagaina quickened her pace.
Rikki-tikki heard them
going up the path from the stables, and he raced for the end of the melon patch
near the wall. There, in the warm litter above the melons, very cunningly
hidden, he found twenty-five eggs, about the size of a bantam's eggs, but with
whitish skin instead of shell.
"I was not a day
too soon," he said, for he could see the baby cobras curled up inside the
skin, and he knew that the minute they were hatched they could each kill a man
or a mongoose. He bit off the tops of the eggs as fast as he could, taking care
to crush the young cobras, and turned over the litter from time to time to see
whether he had missed any. At last there were only three eggs left, and
Rikki-tikki began to chuckle to himself, when he heard Darzee's wife screaming:
"Rikki-tikki, I
led Nagaina toward the house, and she has gone into the veranda, and--oh, come
quickly--she means killing!"
Rikki-tikki smashed
two eggs, and tumbled backward down the melon-bed with the third egg in his
mouth, and scuttled to the veranda as hard as he could put foot to the ground.
Teddy and his mother and father were there at early breakfast, but Rikki-tikki
saw that they were not eating anything. They sat stone-still, and their faces
were white. Nagaina was coiled up on the matting by Teddy's chair, within easy striking
distance of Teddy's bare leg, and she was swaying to and fro, singing a song of
triumph.
"Son of the big
man that killed Nag," she hissed, "stay still. I am not ready yet.
Wait a little. Keep very still, all you three! If you move I strike, and if you
do not move I strike. Oh, foolish people, who killed my Nag!"
Teddy's eyes were
fixed on his father, and all his father could do was to whisper, "Sit
still, Teddy. You mustn't move. Teddy, keep still."
Then Rikki-tikki came
up and cried, "Turn round, Nagaina. Turn and fight!"
"All in good
time," said she, without moving her eyes. "I will settle my account
with you presently. Look at your friends, Rikki-tikki. They are still and
white. They are afraid. They dare not move, and if you come a step nearer I
strike."
"Look at your
eggs," said Rikki-tikki, "in the melon bed near the wall. Go and
look, Nagaina!"
The big snake turned
half around, and saw the egg on the veranda. "Ah-h! Give it to me,"
she said.
Rikki-tikki put his
paws one on each side of the egg, and his eyes were blood-red. "What price
for a snake's egg? For a young cobra? For a young king cobra? For the last--the
very last of the brood? The ants are eating all the others down by the melon
bed."
Nagaina spun clear
round, forgetting everything for the sake of the one egg. Rikki-tikki saw
Teddy's father shoot out a big hand, catch Teddy by the shoulder, and drag him
across the little table with the tea-cups, safe and out of reach of Nagaina.
"Tricked!
Tricked! Tricked! Rikk-tck-tck!" chuckled Rikki-tikki. "The boy is
safe, and it was I--I--I that caught Nag by the hood last night in the
bathroom." Then he began to jump up and down, all four feet together, his
head close to the floor. "He threw me to and fro, but he could not shake
me off. He was dead before the big man blew him in two. I did it!
Rikki-tikki-tck-tck! Come then, Nagaina. Come and fight with me. You shall not
be a widow long."
Nagaina saw that she
had lost her chance of killing Teddy, and the egg lay between Rikki-tikki's
paws. "Give me the egg, Rikki-tikki. Give me the last of my eggs, and I
will go away and never come back," she said, lowering her hood.
"Yes, you will go
away, and you will never come back. For you will go to the rubbish heap with
Nag. Fight, widow! The big man has gone for his gun! Fight!"
Rikki-tikki was
bounding all round Nagaina, keeping just out of reach of her stroke, his little
eyes like hot coals. Nagaina gathered herself together and flung out at him.
Rikki-tikki jumped up and backward. Again and again and again she struck, and
each time her head came with a whack on the matting of the veranda and she
gathered herself together like a watch spring. Then Rikki-tikki danced in a
circle to get behind her, and Nagaina spun round to keep her head to his head,
so that the rustle of her tail on the matting sounded like dry leaves blown
along by the wind.
He had forgotten the
egg. It still lay on the veranda, and Nagaina came nearer and nearer to it,
till at last, while Rikki-tikki was drawing breath, she caught it in her mouth,
turned to the veranda steps, and flew like an arrow down the path, with
Rikki-tikki behind her. When the cobra runs for her life, she goes like a
whip-lash flicked across a horse's neck.
Rikki-tikki knew that
he must catch her, or all the trouble would begin again. She headed straight
for the long grass by the thorn-bush, and as he was running Rikki-tikki heard
Darzee still singing his foolish little song of triumph. But Darzee's wife was
wiser. She flew off her nest as Nagaina came along, and flapped her wings about
Nagaina's head. If Darzee had helped they might have turned her, but Nagaina only
lowered her hood and went on. Still, the instant's delay brought Rikki-tikki up
to her, and as she plunged into the rat-hole where she and Nag used to live,
his little white teeth were clenched on her tail, and he went down with
her--and very few mongooses, however wise and old they may be, care to follow a
cobra into its hole. It was dark in the hole; and Rikki-tikki never knew when
it might open out and give Nagaina room to turn and strike at him. He held on
savagely, and stuck out his feet to act as brakes on the dark slope of the hot,
moist earth.
Then the grass by the
mouth of the hole stopped waving, and Darzee said, "It is all over with
Rikki-tikki! We must sing his death song. Valiant Rikki-tikki is dead! For
Nagaina will surely kill him underground."
So he sang a very
mournful song that he made up on the spur of the minute, and just as he got to
the most touching part, the grass quivered again, and Rikki-tikki, covered with
dirt, dragged himself out of the hole leg by leg, licking his whiskers. Darzee
stopped with a little shout. Rikki-tikki shook some of the dust out of his fur
and sneezed. "It is all over," he said. "The widow will never
come out again." And the red ants that live between the grass stems heard
him, and began to troop down one after another to see if he had spoken the
truth.
Rikki-tikki curled
himself up in the grass and slept where he was--slept and slept till it was
late in the afternoon, for he had done a hard day's work.
"Now," he
said, when he awoke, "I will go back to the house. Tell the Coppersmith,
Darzee, and he will tell the garden that Nagaina is dead."
The Coppersmith is a
bird who makes a noise exactly like the beating of a little hammer on a copper
pot; and the reason he is always making it is because he is the town crier to
every Indian garden, and tells all the news to everybody who cares to listen. As
Rikki-tikki went up the path, he heard his "attention" notes like a
tiny dinner gong, and then the steady "Ding-dong-tock! Nag is dead--dong!
Nagaina is dead! Ding-dong-tock!" That set all the birds in the garden
singing, and the frogs croaking, for Nag and Nagaina used to eat frogs as well
as little birds.
When Rikki got to the
house, Teddy and Teddy's mother (she looked very white still, for she had been
fainting) and Teddy's father came out and almost cried over him; and that night
he ate all that was given him till he could eat no more, and went to bed on
Teddy's shoulder, where Teddy's mother saw him when she came to look late at
night.
"He saved our
lives and Teddy's life," she said to her husband. "Just think, he
saved all our lives."
Rikki-tikki woke up
with a jump, for the mongooses are light sleepers.
"Oh, it's
you," said he. "What are you bothering for? All the cobras are dead.
And if they weren't, I'm here."
Rikki-tikki had a
right to be proud of himself. But he did not grow too proud, and he kept that
garden as a mongoose should keep it, with tooth and jump and spring and bite,
till never a cobra dared show its head inside the walls.
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