`` The Sack of the Fields of Bhurtpore , '' Bagheera repeated two or three times to make sure . `` I go . Hathi can but be angry at the worst , and I would give a moon 's hunting to hear a Master-word that compels the Silent One . '' He went away , leaving Mowgli stabbing furiously with his skinning-knife into the earth . Mowgli had never seen human blood in his life before till he had seen , and -- what meant much more to him -- smelled Messua 's blood on the thongs that bound her . And Messua had been kind to him , and , so far as he knew anything about love , he loved Messua as completely as he hated the rest of mankind . But deeply as he loathed them , their talk , their cruelty , and their cowardice , not for anything the Jungle had to offer could he bring himself to take a human life , and have that terrible scent of blood back again in his nostrils . His plan was simpler , but much more thorough ; and he laughed to himself when he thought that it was one of old Buldeo 's tales told under the peepul-tree in the evening that had put the idea into his head . `` It WAS a Master-word , '' Bagheera whispered in his ear . `` They were feeding by the river , and they obeyed as though they were bullocks . Look where they come now ! '' Hathi and his three sons had arrived , in their usual way , without a sound . The mud of the river was still fresh on their flanks , and Hathi was thoughtfully chewing the green stem of a young plantain-tree that he had gouged up with his tusks . But every line in his vast body showed to Bagheera , who could see things when he came across them , that it was not the Master of the Jungle speaking to a Man-cub , but one who was afraid coming before one who was not . His three sons rolled side by side , behind their father . Mowgli hardly lifted his head as Hathi gave him `` Good hunting . '' He kept him swinging and rocking , and shifting from one foot to another , for a long time before he spoke ; and when he opened his mouth it was to Bagheera , not to the elephants . `` I will tell a tale that was told to me by the hunter ye hunted to-day , '' said Mowgli . `` It concerns an elephant , old and wise , who fell into a trap , and the sharpened stake in the pit scarred him from a little above his heel to the crest of his shoulder , leaving a white mark . '' Mowgli threw out his hand , and as Hathi wheeled the moonlight showed a long white scar on his slaty side , as though he had been struck with a red-hot whip .
`` Men came to take him from the trap , '' XXXXX continued , `` but he broke his ropes , for he was strong , and went away till his wound was healed .
Bagheera Bhurtpore Buldeo Master-word Messua Mowgli evening flanks peepul-tree skinning-knife