I didn't know that "The Jungle Book" was a collection of tales. I’m excited to venture back to India with Rudyard Kipling and Kim. The Jungle Books, yes, there are two, were my first journey with Kipling, but they will not be my last. Quiquern - A teenaged Inuit boy and girl set out across the arctic ice on a desperate hunt for food to save their tribe from starvation, guided by the mysterious animal-spirit Quiquern. Later, he must save a village from a landslide with the help of the local animals whom he has befriended. The Miracle of Purun Bhagat - An influential Indian politician abandons his worldly goods to become an ascetic holy man. Toomai of the Elephants - Toomai, a ten-year-old boy who helps to tend working elephants, is told that he will never be a full-fledged elephant-handler until he has seen the elephants dance. Rikki-Tikki-Tavi - Rikki-Tikki the mongoose defends a human family living in India against a pair of cobras. The White Seal - Kotick, a rare white-furred northern fur seal, searches for a new home for his people, where they will not be hunted by humans. In the background to the stories, village life goes on with its lazy rhythms – buffalo wading through the shallows, women going to the well, and the man pack exploring the jungle. All over India there were tales of a child reared by a wolf pack. Kipling's magic was always rooted in the reality of common life. Bagheera and Baloo became my mentors and Kaa my trusted friend. Mowgli and I ran through the jungle together with our fellow wolf cubs to listen to Akela at the Council Rock. It is ideal for young adults, but this is no children’s book.įrom the start, I felt I really lived this book. Disney be damned, this is not a children’s book. One thing I must clear up is the perception that this is a children’s book. Reading these stories, I felt that Kipling appreciated the sound of language as much as its ability to convey a message. Kipling’s writing style is beautifully lyrical. It comes as no surprise that Kipling considered himself a poet first, for these stories are truly poetic. Since then, it's lingered on my nightstand waiting for me to join Mowgli again on his jungle adventures until last week. I lost my copy when I moved from the west coast to Chicago, found it again, picked up where I left off, lost it again when I moved to Wisconsin, and found it again in 2014. I started The Jungle Book nearly ten years ago.
Kipling, Mowgli, Baloo, Bagheera, & I have been on a long journey together. Since then, it's lingered on my nightstand waiting for me to join Mowgli again on hi “For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.”
“For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.” The Jungle Book ~~ Rudyard Kipling Kipling, Mowgli, Baloo, Bagheera, & I have been on a long journey together. We call it hydrophobia, but they call it dewanee-the Goes mad, for madness is the most disgraceful thing that can overtakeĪ wild creature. Even the tiger runs and hides when little Tabaqui That he was ever afraid of anyone, and runs through the forest bitingĮverything in his way. Than anyone else in the jungle, is apt to go mad, and then he forgets But they are afraid of him too, because Tabaqui, more Tales, and eating rags and pieces of leather from the village It was the jackal-Tabaqui, the Dish-licker-and the wolves of Indiaĭespise Tabaqui because he runs about making mischief, and telling And good luck and strong white teeth go with nobleĬhildren that they may never forget the hungry in this world.” Hunt again.” He was going to spring down hill when a little shadow withĪ bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined: “Good luck go with you, OĬhief of the Wolves.
Mother Wolf lay with her big gray nose dropped across herįour tumbling, squealing cubs, and the moon shone into the mouth of theĬave where they all lived. Spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling 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 It was seven o’clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills whenįather Wolf woke up from his day’s rest, scratched himself, yawned, and 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 their tips.
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