The Jungle Book
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Description
a hide-bound parchment book.
The writing is in Anglic, and reads: The Jungle Book
A medium-sized volume of parchment carefully bound in hide. Etched on the front cover is a title and the image of a boy crouched next to a wolf, both staring at something outside of the picture. It is closed. It is closed. You appraise it at seventy-one gold. It looks about a quarter of a dimin long, one and seventeen twentieths dimins wide, and two and nine twentieths dimins tall. It weighs about seventeen twentieths of a dekan.
The commands 'open <item>', 'close <item>', and 'turn page [in <item>] [to <number>]' may be used with it. Keeping the hide-bound parchment book costs six keep points. The hide-bound parchment book was created by Lost Souls; the source code was last updated Tue Mar 15 02:15:36 2016. The material hide was created by Lost Souls; the source code was last updated Tue Mar 15 02:18:37 2016. The material parchment was created by Lost Souls; the source code was last updated Tue Mar 15 02:18:43 2016.
Spoiler warning: information below includes details, such as solutions to puzzles or quest procedures, that you may prefer to discover on your own.
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Text
The Works of Rudyard Kipling The Jungle Book Rudyard Kipling CONTENTS MOWGLI'S BROTHERS HUNTING-SONG OF THE SEEONEE PACK KAA'S HUNTING ROAD-SONG OF THE BANDAR-LOG "TIGER! TIGER!" MOWGLI'S SONG THE WHITE SEAL LUKANNON "RIKKI-TIKKI-TAVI" DARZEE'S CHAUNT TOOMAI OF THE ELEPHANTS
SHIV AND THE GRASSHOPPER HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS PARADE-SONG OF THE CAMP ANIMALS Now Rann, the Kite, brings home the night That Mang, the Bat, sets free -- The herds are shut in byre and hut, For loosed till dawn are we. This is the hour of pride and power, Talon and tush and claw. Oh, hear the call! -- Good hunting all That keep the Jungle Law! Night-Song in the Jungle. MOWGLI'S BROTHERS IT WAS seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned, and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in the tips. Mother Wolf lay with her big
gray nose dropped across her four tumbling, squealing cubs, and the moon shone into the mouth of the cave where they all lived. "Augrh!" said Father Wolf, "it is time to hunt again"; and he was going to spring downhill when a little shadow with a bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined: "Good luck go with you, O Chief of the Wolves; and good luck and strong white teeth go with the noble children, that they may never forget the hungry in this world." It was the jackal -- Tabaqui, the Dish-licker -- and the wolves of India despise Tabaqui because he runs about making mischief, and telling tales, and eating rags and pieces of leather from the village rubbish-heaps. They are afraid of him too, because Tabaqui, more than any one else in the jungle, is apt to go mad, and then he forgets that he was ever afraid of any one, and runs through the forest biting everything in his way. Even the tiger hides when little Tabaqui goes mad, for madness is the most disgraceful thing that can overtake a wild creature. We call it hydrophobia, but they call it dewanee -- the madness -- and run. "Enter, then, and look," said Father Wolf, stiffly; "but there is no food here." "For a wolf, no," said Tabaqui; "but for so mean a person
as myself a dry bone is a good feast. Who are we, the Gidur-log [the Jackal People], to pick and choose?" He scuttled to the back of the cave, where he found the bone of a buck with some meat on it, and sat cracking the end merrily. "All thanks for this good meal," he said, licking his lips. "How beautiful are the noble children! How large are their eyes! And so young too! Indeed, indeed, I might have remembered that the children of kings are men from the beginning." Now, Tabaqui knew as well as any one else that there is nothing so unlucky as to compliment children to their faces; and it pleased him to see Mother and Father Wolf look uncomfortable. Tabaqui sat still, rejoicing in the mischief that he had made, and then he said spitefully: "Shere Khan, the Big One, has shifted his hunting-grounds. He will hunt among these hills during the next moon, so he has told me." Shere Khan was the tiger who lived near the Waingunga River, twenty miles away. "He has no right!" Father Wolf began angrily. "By the Law of the Jungle he has no right to change his quarters without fair warning. He will frighten every head of game within ten miles; and I -- I have to kill for two, these days."
"His mother did not call him Lungri [the Lame One] for nothing," said Mother Wolf, quietly. "He has been lame in one foot from his birth. That is why he has only killed cattle. Now the villagers of the Waingunga are angry with him, and he has come here to make our villagers angry. They will scour the jungle for him when he is far away, and we and our children must run when the grass is set alight. Indeed: we are very grateful to Shere Khan!" "Shall I tell him of your gratitude?" said Tabaqui. "Out!" snapped Father Wolf. "Out, and hunt with thy master. Thou hast done harm enough for one night." "I go," said Tabaqui, quietly. "Ye can hear Shere Khan below in the thickets. I might have saved myself the message." Father Wolf listened, and in the dark valley that ran down to a little river, he heard the dry, angry, snarly, singsong whine of a tiger who has caught nothing and does not care if all the jungle knows it. "The fool!" said Father Wolf. "To begin a night's work with that noise! Does he think that our buck are like his fat Waingunga bullocks?" "H'sh! It is neither bullock nor buck that he hunts to-night," said Mother Wolf; "it is Man." The whine had changed
Total pages 235.
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Relevant Skills
skills gained when read for first time go here
End of spoiler information.