After his return from Monkey City, Mowgli lived happily among the wolf pack.
He grew taller and stronger.
He hunted and swam.
He sat in the sun, and he ate and slept—then ate and slept again.
At Council Rock the wolves often asked Mowgli to pull sharp thorns from their paws.
Mowgli noticed something strange whenever he did it.
If he stared at the wolves, they quickly looked away.
"That's odd," he thought. "Are the wolves afraid of me?"
Mowgli sometimes saw Shere Khan in the jungle.
Mowgli tried to keep his distance.
But many of the young wolves were growing loyal to Shere Khan.
The tiger tossed them scraps of food.
He praised them too.
"What fine, brave hunters you are!" Shere Khan purred.
"I don't know why you let Akela lead you.
He's getting so old and weak."
"Mowgli might lead the pack one day," a young wolf said.
"The man cub is very smart."
"He can even remove thorns from our paws," another wolf said.
"That man cub again!" Shere Khan growled.
"He is no better than any of you!"
Some of the wolves growled too.
"You're right, Shere Khan. Mowgli is not even a wolf!"
Bagheera watched what was happening within the wolf pack.
And he didn't like it.
"Mowgli, how many times have I told you that Shere Khan is your enemy?" he asked one afternoon.
The two friends were lying on some leaves in the warm sun.
Mowgli laughed. "As many times as there are nuts on that tree!"
He shook his head.
Bagheera was always giving him warnings and advice.
"Well, listen carefully," Bagheera said.
"Akela is getting old. Soon he will be too weak to lead the pack.
That's when the younger wolves will take action.
They will try to throw you out of the pack."
"They won't throw me out of the pack!" Mowgli was still laughing.
"I live in the jungle. I obey its law.
I even pull thorns from my brothers' and sisters' paws."
"Those things are true," Bagheera said firmly.
"But you're not a wolf.
You're a human.
And someday you will live among them."
"I don't think so, Bagheera." Mowgli yawned.
"Sometimes I go to the hill to look down at the people's village.
But I never talk to the villagers.
I don't hunt with them.
Anyway, you've lived in the jungle for your whole life.
You don't know anything about people."
The panther shifted his paws and looked away.
"I'm sorry to say this," he said.
"But most of the wolves hate you.
They think you're wiser and stronger than they are.
That's why they look away when you stare at them.
They are your enemies."
"What?" Mowgli felt stung, as if a bee had landed on his skin.
He leaped up. "I thought they were my friends! Bagheera, what should I do?"
"You must protect yourself," Bagheera said.
"Akela is not going to be able to lead the pack for much longer.
As soon as he fails at hunting, the young wolves will turn against him.
They'll go to Council Rock, and—I've got it!" Bagheera smiled.
"You must go down to the humans' village in the valley.
Get some of the red flower, which they grow there."
"The red flower?" Mowgli repeated.
Every beast in the jungle lived in fear of the humans' fire.
"The red flower grows outside their huts at twilight.
I could try to get some."
"Good!" Bagheera nodded.
"Get it quickly and keep it nearby.
When the time comes, you will be ready with a mighty weapon."