Bagheera gave him half a dozen love-taps; from a panther’s point of view they would hardly have waked one of his own cubs, but for a seven-year-old boy they amounted to as severe a beating as you could wish to avoid. When it was all over Mowgli sneezed, and picked himself up without a word. “Now,” said Bagheera, “jump on my back, Little Brother, and we will go home.” One of the beauties of Jungle Law is that punishment settles all scores. There is no nagging afterward.
