The horrified whisper began again , and Hathi 's watchful little white eye cocked itself in Shere Khan 's direction . `` For choice , '' Shere Khan drawled . `` Now come I to drink and make me clean again . Is there any to forbid ? '' Bagheera 's back began to curve like a bamboo in a high wind , but Hathi lifted up his trunk and spoke quietly . `` Thy kill was from choice ? '' he asked ; and when Hathi asks a question it is best to answer . `` Even so . It was my right and my Night . Thou knowest , O Hathi . '' Shere Khan spoke almost courteously . `` Yes , I know , '' Hathi answered ; and , after a little silence , `` Hast thou drunk thy fill ? '' `` For to-night , yes . '' `` Go , then . The river is to drink , and not to defile . None but the Lame Tiger would so have boasted of his right at this season when -- when we suffer together -- Man and Jungle People alike . Clean or unclean , get to thy lair , Shere Khan ! '' The last words rang out like silver trumpets , and Hathi 's three sons rolled forward half a pace , though there was no need . Shere Khan slunk away , not daring to growl , for he knew -- what every one else knows -- that when the last comes to the last , Hathi is the Master of the Jungle . `` What is this right Shere Khan speaks of ? ''
Mowgli whispered in XXXXX 's ear .
Bagheera Hathi Khan Night bamboo choice eye lair right to-night