said Mowgli , in the dialect of the village , NOT the talk of the Jungle , and the human words brought Bagheera to a full stop , flung back on haunches that quivered under him , his head just at the level of Mowgli 's . Once more Mowgli stared , as he had stared at the rebellious cubs , full into the beryl-green eyes till the red glare behind their green went out like the light of a lighthouse shut off twenty miles across the sea ; till the eyes dropped , and the big head with them -- dropped lower and lower , and the red rasp of a tongue grated on Mowgli 's instep . `` Brother -- Brother -- Brother ! '' the boy whispered , stroking steadily and lightly from the neck along the heaving back . `` Be still , be still ! It is the fault of the night , and no fault of thine . '' `` It was the smells of the night , '' said Bagheera penitently . `` This air cries aloud to me . But how dost THOU know ? '' Of course the air round an Indian village is full of all kinds of smells , and to any creature who does nearly all his thinking through his nose , smells are as maddening as music and drugs are to human beings . Mowgli gentled the panther for a few minutes longer , and he lay down like a cat before a fire , his paws tucked under his breast , and his eyes half shut . `` Thou art of the Jungle and NOT of the Jungle , '' he said at last . `` And I am only a black panther . But I love thee , Little Brother . '' `` They are very long at their talk under the tree , '' Mowgli said , without noticing the last sentence . `` Buldeo must have told many tales . They should come soon to drag the woman and her man out of the trap and put them into the Red Flower . They will find that trap sprung . Ho ! ho ! ''
`` Nay , listen , '' said XXXXX .
Bagheera Brother Buldeo Flower Ho Indian drugs fire lighthouse night