"RIKKI-TIKKI-TAVI"




THIS is the story of the great war that Rikki-tikki-tavi fought
single-handed, through the bathrooms of the big bungalow in
Segowlee cantonment. Darzee, the tailor-bird, helped him, and
Chuchundra, the muskrat, who never comes out into the middle of
the floor, but always creeps round by the wall, gave him advice;
but Rikki-tikki did the real fighting.

He was a mongoose, rather like a little cat in his fur and
his tail, but quite like a weasel in his head and his habits.
His eyes and the end of his restless nose were pink; he could
scratch himself anywhere he pleased, with any leg, front or
back, that he chose to use; he could fluff up his tail till it
looked like a bottle-brush, and his war-cry as he scuttled
through the long grass, was: "Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tchk!"

One day, a high summer flood washed him out of the burrow
where he lived with his father and mother, and carried him,
kicking and clucking, down a roadside ditch. He found a little
wisp of grass floating there, and clung to it till he lost his
senses. When he revived, he was lying in the hot sun on the
middle of a garden path, very draggled indeed, and a small boy
was saying: "Here's a dead mongoose. Let's have a funeral."

"No," said his mother; "let's take him in and dry him.
Perhaps he is n't really dead."

They took him into the house, and a big man picked him up
between his finger and thumb and said he was not dead but half
choked; so they wrapped him in cotton-wool, and warmed him, and
he opened his eyes and sneezed.

"Now," said the big man (he was an Englishman who had just
moved into the bungalow); "don't frighten him, and we'll see
what he'll do."

It is the hardest thing in the world to frighten a
mongoose, because he is eaten up from nose to tail with
curiosity. The motto of all the mongoose family is, "Run and
find out"; and Rikki-tikki was a true mongoose. He looked at the
cotton-wool, decided that it was not good to eat, ran all round
the table, sat up and put his fur in order, scratched himself,
and jumped on the small boy's shoulder.

"Don't be frightened, Teddy," said his father. "That's his
way of making friends."

"Ouch! He's tickling under my chin," said Teddy.

Rikki-tikki looked down between the boy's collar and neck,
snuffed at his ear, and climbed down to the floor, where he sat
rubbing his nose.

"Good gracious," said Teddy's mother, "and that's a wild
creature! I suppose he's so tame because we've been kind to
him."

"All mongooses are like that," said her husband. "If Teddy
does n't pick him up by the tail, or try to put him in a cage,
he'll run in and out of the house all day long. Let's give him
something to eat."

They gave him a little piece of raw meat. Rikki-tikki liked
it immensely, and when it was finished he went out into the
veranda and sat in the sunshine and fluffed up his fur to make
it dry to the roots. Then he felt better.

"There are more things to find out about in this house," he
said to himself, "than all my family
could find out in all their lives. I shall certainly stay and
find out."

He spent all that day roaming over the house, He
nearly drowned himself in the bath-tubs, put his nose into the
ink on a writing-table, and burned it on the end of the big
man's cigar, for he climbed up in the big man's lap to see how
writing was done. At nightfall he ran into Teddy's nursery to
watch how kerosene lamps were lighted, and when Teddy went to bed
Rikki-tikki climbed up too; but he was a restless companion,
because he had to get up and attend to every noise all through
the night, and find out what made it. Teddy's mother and
father came in, the last thing, to look at their boy, and
Rikki-tikki was awake on the pillow. "I don't like that," said
Teddy's mother; "he may bite the child." "He'll do no such
thing," said the father. "Teddy's safer with that little beast
than if he had a bloodhound to watch him. If a snake came into
the nursery now --"

But Teddy's mother would n't think of anything so awful.

Early in the morning Rikki-tikki came to early breakfast in
the veranda riding on Teddy's shoulder, and they gave him banana
and some boiled egg; and he sat on all their laps one after the
other, because every well-brought-up mongoose always hopes to be a
house-mongoose some day and have rooms to run about in, and
Rikki-tikki's mother (she used to live in the General's house at
Segowlee) had carefully told Rikki what to do if ever he came
across white men.

Then Rikki-tikki went out into the garden to see what was
to be seen. It was a large garden, only half cultivated, with
bushes as big as summer-houses of Marshal Niel roses, lime and
orange trees, clumps of bamboos, and thickets of high grass.
Rikki-tikki licked his lips. "This is a splendid hunting-ground,"
he said, and his tail grew bottle-brushy at the thought of it,
and he scuttled up and down the garden, snuffing here and there
till he heard very sorrowful voices in a thorn-bush.

It was Darzee, the tailor-bird, and his wife. They had made
a beautiful nest by pulling two big leaves together and
stitching them up the edges with fibers, and had filled the
hollow with cotton and downy fluff. The nest swayed to and fro,
as they sat on the rim and cried.

"What is the matter?" asked Rikki-tikki.

"We are very miserable," said Darzee. "One of our babies
fell out of the nest yesterday and Nag ate him."

"H'm!" said Rikki-tikki, "that is very sad -- but I am a
stranger here. Who is Nag?"

Darzee and his wife only cowered down in the nest without
answering, for from the thick grass at the foot of the bush
there came a low hiss -- a horrid cold sound that made
Rikki-tikki jump back two clear feet. Then inch by inch out of
the grass rose up the head and spread hood of Nag, the big black
cobra, and he was five feet long from tongue to tail. When he
had lifted one-third of himself clear of the ground, he stayed
balancing to and fro exactly as a dandelion-tuft balances in the
wind, and he looked at Rikki-tikki with the wicked snake's eyes
that never change their expression, whatever the snake may be
thinking of.

"Who is Nag?" he said. "I am Nag. The great god Brahm put
his mark upon all our people when the first cobra spread his
hood to keep the sun off Brahm as he slept. Look, and be
afraid!"

He spread out his hood more than ever, and Rikki-tikki saw
the spectacle-mark on the back of it that looks exactly like the
eye part of a hook-and-eye fastening. He was afraid for the
minute; but it is impossible for a mongoose to stay frightened
for any length of time, and though Rikki-tikki had never met a
live cobra before, his mother had fed him on dead ones, and he
knew that all a grown mongoose's business in life was to fight
and eat snakes. Nag knew that too, and at the bottom of his cold
heart he was afraid.

"Well," said Rikki-tikki, and his tail began to fluff up
again, "marks or no marks, do you think it is right for you to
eat fledglings out of a nest?"

Nag was thinking to himself, and watching the least little
movement in the grass behind Rikki-tikki. He knew that mongooses
in the garden meant death sooner or later for him and his
family; but he wanted to get Rikki-tikki off his guard. So he
dropped his head a little, and put it on one side.

"Let us talk," he said. "You eat eggs. Why should not I eat
birds?"

"Behind you! Look behind you!" sang Darzee.

Rikki-tikki knew better than to waste time in
staring. He jumped up in the air as high as he could go, and
just under him whizzed by the head of Nagaina, Nag's wicked
wife. She had crept up behind him as he was talking, to make an
end of him; and he heard her savage hiss as the stroke missed.
He came down almost across her back, and if he had been an old
mongoose he would have known that then was the time to break her
back with one bite; but he was afraid of the terrible lashing
return-stroke of the cobra. He bit, indeed, but did not bite
long enough, and he jumped clear of the whisking tail, leaving
Nagaina torn and angry.

"Wicked, wicked Darzee!" said Nag, lashing up as high as he
could reach toward the nest in the thorn-bush; but Darzee had
built it out of reach of snakes, and it only swayed to and fro.

Rikki-tikki felt his eyes growing red and hot (when a
mongoose's eyes grow red, he is angry), and he sat back on his
tail and hind legs like a little kangaroo, and looked all around
him, and chattered with rage. But Nag and Nagaina had
disappeared into the grass. When a snake misses its stroke, it
never says anything or gives any sign of what it means to do
next. Rikki-tikki did not care to follow them, for he did not
feel sure that he could manage two snakes at once. So he
trotted off to the gravel path near the house, and sat down to
think. It was a serious matter for him.

If you read the old books of natural history, you will find
they say that when the mongoose fights the snake and happens to
get bitten, he runs off and eats some herb that cures him, That
is not true. The victory is only a matter of quickness of eye
and quickness of foot, -- snake's blow against mongoose's jump,
-- and as no eye can follow the motion of a snake's head when it
strikes, that makes things much more wonderful than any magic
herb. Rikki-tikki knew he was a young mongoose, and it made him
all the more pleased to think that he had managed to escape a
blow from behind. It gave him confidence in himself, and when
Teddy came running down the path, Rikki-tikki was ready to be
petted.

But just as Teddy was stooping, something flinched a little
in the dust, and a tiny voice said: "Be careful. I am death!" It
was Karait, the dusty brown snakeling that lies for choice on
the dusty earth; and his bite is as dangerous as the cobra's.
But he is so small that nobody thinks of him, and so he does the
more harm to people.

Rikki-tikki's eyes grew red again, and he
danced up to Karait with the peculiar rocking, swaying motion
that he had inherited from his family. It looks very funny, but
it is so perfectly balanced a gait that you can fly off from it
at any angle you please; and in dealing with snakes this is an
advantage. If Rikki-tikki had only known, he was doing a much
more dangerous thing than fighting Nag for Karait is so small,
and can turn so quickly, that unless Rikki bit him close to the
back of the head, he would get the return-stroke in his eye or
lip. But Rikki did not know: his eyes were all red, and he
rocked back and forth, looking for a good place to hold. Karait
struck out. Rikki jumped sideways and tried to run in, but the
wicked little dusty gray head lashed within a fraction of his
shoulder, and he had to jump over the body, and the head
followed his heels close.

Teddy shouted to the house: "Oh, look here! Our mongoose is
killing a snake"; and Rikki-tikki heard a scream from Teddy's
mother. His father ran out with a stick, but by the time he came
up, Karait had lunged out once too far, and Rikki-tikki had
sprung, jumped on the snake's back, dropped his head far between
his fore legs, bitten as high up the back as he could
get hold, and rolled away. That bite paralyzed Karait, and
Rikki-tikki was just going to eat him up from the tail, after
the custom of his family at dinner, when he remembered that a
full meal wakes a slow mongoose, and if he wanted all his
strength and quickness ready, he must keep himself thin.

He went away for a dust-bath under the castor-oil bushes,
while Teddy's father beat the dead Karait. "What is the use of
that?" thought Rikki-tikki. "I have settled it all"; and then
Teddy's mother picked him up from the dust and hugged him,
crying that he had saved Teddy from death, and Teddy's father
said that he was a providence, and Teddy looked on with big
scared eyes. Rikki-tikki was rather amused at all the fuss,
which, of course, he did not understand. Teddy's mother might
just as well have petted Teddy for playing in the dust. Rikki
was thoroughly enjoying himself.

That night, at dinner, walking to and fro among the
wine-glasses on the table, he could have stuffed himself three
times over with nice things; but he remembered Nag and Nagaina,
and though it was very pleasant to be patted and petted by
Teddy's mother, and to sit on Teddy's shoulder, his eyes would
get red from time to time, and he would go off into his
long war-cry of "Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tchk!"

Teddy carried him off to bed, and insisted on Rikki-tikki
sleeping under his chin. Rikki-tikki was too well bred to
bite or scratch, but as soon as Teddy was asleep he went
off for his nightly walk round the house, and in the dark
he ran up against Chuchundra, the muskrat, creeping
round by the wall. Chuchundra is a broken-hearted little beast.
He whimpers and cheeps all the night, trying to make up his mind
to run into the middle of the room, but he never gets there.

"Don't kill me," said Chuchundra, almost weeping.
"Rikki-tikki, don't kill me."

"Do you think a snake-killer kills muskrats?" said
Rikki-tikki scornfully.

"Those who kill snakes get killed by snakes," said
Chuchundra, more sorrowfully than ever. "And how am I to be sure
that Nag won't mistake me for you some dark night?"

"There's not the least danger," said Rikki-tikki; "but Nag
is in the garden, and I know you don't go there."

"My cousin Chua, the rat, told me --" said Chuchundra, and
then he stopped.

"Told you what?"

"H'sh! Nag is everywhere, Rikki-tikki. You should have
talked to Chua in the garden."

"I did n't -- so you must tell me. Quick, Chuchundra, or
I'll bite you!"

Chuchundra sat down and cried till the tears rolled off his
whiskers. "I am a very poor man," he sobbed. "I never had spirit
enough to run out into the middle of the room. H'sh! I must n't
tell you anything. Can't you hear, Rikki-tikki?"

Rikki-tikki listened. The house was as still as still, but
he thought he could just catch the faintest scratch-scratch in
the world, -- a noise as faint as that of a wasp walking on a
window-pane, -- the dry scratch of a snake's scales on
brickwork.

"That's Nag or Nagaina," he said to himself; "and he is
crawling into the bath-room sluice. You're right, Chuchundra; I
should have talked to Chua."

He stole off to Teddy's bath-room, but there was nothing
there, and then to Teddy's mother's bathroom. At the bottom of
the smooth plaster wall there was a brick pulled out to make a
sluice for the bath-water, and as Rikki-tikki stole in by the
masonry curb where the bath is put, he heard Nag and Nagaina
whispering together outside in the moonlight.

"When the house is emptied of people," said Nagaina to her
husband, "he will have to go away, and then the garden will be
our own again. Go in quietly, and remember that the big man who
killed Karait is the first one to bite. Then come out and tell
me, and we will hunt for Rikki-tikki together."

"But are you sure that there is anything to be gained by
killing the people?" said Nag.

"Everything. When there were no people in
the bungalow, did we have any mongoose in the garden? So long as
the bungalow is empty, we are king and queen of the garden; and
remember that as soon as our eggs in the melon-bed hatch (as
they may tomorrow), our children will need room and quiet."

"I had not thought of that," said Nag. "I will go, but
there is no need that we should hunt for Rikki-tikki afterward.
I will kill the big man and his wife, and the child if I can,
and come away quietly Then the bungalow will be empty, and
Rikki-tikki will go."

Rikki-tikki tingled all over with rage and hatred at this,
and then Nag's head came through the sluice, and his five feet
of cold body followed it. Angry as he was, Rikki-tikki was very
frightened as he saw the size of the big cobra. Nag coiled
himself up raised his head, and looked into the bath-room in the
dark, and Rikki could see his eyes glitter.

"Now, if I kill him here, Nagaina will know; and if I fight
him on the open floor, the odds are in his favour. What am I to
do?" said Rikki-tikki-tavi.

Nag waved to and fro, and then Rikki-tikki heard him
drinking from the biggest water-jar that was used to fill the
bath. "That is good," said the snake. "Now, when Karait was
killed, the big man had a stick. He may have that stick still,
but when he comes in to bathe in the morning he will not have
a stick. I shall wait here till he comes. Nagaina -- do you
hear me? -- I shall wait here in the cool till daytime."

There was no answer from outside, so Rikki-tikki knew
Nagaina had gone away. Nag coiled himself down, coil by coil,
round the bulge at the bottom of the water-jar, and Rikki-tikki
stayed still as death. After an hour he began to move, muscle by
muscle, toward the jar. Nag was asleep, and Rikki-tikki looked
at his big back, wondering which would be the best place for a
good hold. "If I don't break his back at the first jump," said
Rikki, "he can still fight; and if he fights -- O Rikki!" He
looked at the thickness of the neck below the hood, but that was
too much for him; and a bite near the tail would only make Nag
savage.

"It must be the head," he said at last; "the head above the
hood; and, when I am once there, I must not let go."

Then he jumped. The head was lying a little clear of the
water-jar, under the curve of it; and, as his teeth met, Rikki
braced his back against the bulge of the red earthenware to hold
down the head. This gave him just one second's purchase, and he
made the most of it. Then he was battered to and fro as a rat is
shaken by a dog -- to and fro on the floor, up and down, and round
in great circles; but his eyes were red, and he held on as the
body cartwhipped over the floor, upsetting the tin dipper and
the soap-dish and the flesh-brush, and banged against the tin
side of the bath. As he held he closed his jaws tighter
and tighter, for he made sure he would be banged to death, and,
for the honour of his family, he preferred to be found with his
teeth locked. He was dizzy, aching, and felt shaken to pieces
when something went off like a thunder-clap just behind him; a
hot wind knocked him senseless and red fire singed his fur. The
big man had been wakened by the noise, and had fired both
barrels of a shot-gun into Nag just behind the hood.

Rikki-tikki held on with his eyes shut, for now he was
quite sure he was dead; but the head did not move, and the big
man picked him up and said: "It's the mongoose again, Alice; the
little chap has saved our lives now." Then Teddy's mother came
in with a very white face, and saw what was left of Nag, and
Rikki-tikki dragged himself to Teddy's bedroom and spent half
the rest of the night shaking himself tenderly to find out
whether he really was broken into forty pieces, as he fancied.

When morning came he was very stiff, but well pleased with
his doings. "Now I have Nagaina to settle with, and she will be
worse than five Nags, and there's no knowing when the eggs she
spoke of will hatch. Goodness! I must go and see Darzee," he
said.

Without waiting for breakfast, Rikki-tikki ran to the
thorn-bush where Darzee was singing a song of triumph at the
top of his voice. The news of Nag's death was all over the
garden, for the sweeper had thrown the body on the rubbish-heap.

"Oh, you stupid tuft of feathers!" said Rikki-tikki,
angrily. "Is this the time to sing?"

"Nag is dead -- is dead -- is dead!" sang Darzee. "The
valiant Rikki-tikki caught him by the head and held fast. The
big man brought the bang-stick and Nag fell in two pieces! He
will never eat my babies again."

"All that's true enough; but where's Nagaina?" said
Rikki-tikki, looking carefully round him.

"Nagaina came to the bath-room sluice and called for Nag,"
Darzee went on; "and Nag came out on the end of a stick -- the
sweeper picked him up on the end of a stick and threw him upon
the rubbish-heap. Let us sing about the great, the red-eyed
Rikki-tikki!" and Darzee filled his throat and sang.

"If I could get up to your nest, I'd roll all your babies
out!" said Rikki-tikki. "You don't know when to do the right
thing at the right time. You're safe enough in your nest there,
but it's war for me down here. Stop singing a minute, Darzee."

"For the great, the beautiful Rikki-tikki's
sake I will stop," said Darzee. "What is it, O Killer of the
terrible Nag?"

"Where is Nagaina, for the third time?"

"On the rubbish-heap by the stables, mourning for Nag.
Great is Rikki-tikki with the white teeth."

"Bother my white teeth! Have you ever heard where she keeps
her eggs?"

"In the melon-bed, on the end nearest the wall, where the
sun strikes nearly all day. She had them there weeks ago."

"And you never thought it worth while to tell me? The end
nearest the wall, you said?"

"Rikki-tikki, you are not going to eat her eggs?"

"Not eat exactly; no. Darzee, if you have a grain of sense
you will fly off to the stables and pretend that your wing is
broken, and let Nagaina chase you away to this bush! I must get
to the melon-bed, and if I went there now she'd see me."

Darzee was a feather-brained little fellow who could never
hold more than one idea at a time in his head; and just because
he knew that Nagaina's children were born in eggs like his own,
he did n't think at first that it was fair to kill them. But his
wife was a sensible bird, and she knew that cobra's eggs meant
young cobras later on; so she flew off from the nest, and left
Darzee to keep the babies warm, and continue his song about
the death of Nag. Darzee was very like a man in some ways.

She fluttered in front of Nagaina by the rubbish-heap, and
cried out, "Oh, my wing is broken! The boy in the house threw a
stone at me and broke it." Then she fluttered more desperately
than ever.

Nagaina lifted up her head and hissed, "You warned
Rikki-tikki when I would have killed him. Indeed and truly,
you've chosen a bad place to be lame in." And she moved toward
Darzee's wife, slipping along over the dust.

"The boy broke it with a stone!" shrieked Darzee's wife.

"Well! It may be some consolation to you when you're dead
to know that I shall settle accounts with the boy. My husband
lies on the rubbish-heap this morning, but before night the boy
in the house will lie very still. What is the use of running
away? I am sure to catch you. Little fool, look at me!"

Darzee's wife knew better than to do that, for a bird who
looks at a snake's eyes gets so frightened that she cannot move.
Darzee's wife fluttered on, piping sorrowfully, and never
leaving the ground, and Nagaina quickened her pace.

Rikki-tikki heard them going up the path from the stables,
and he raced for the end of the melon-patch near the wall.
There, in the warm litter about the melons, very cunningly
hidden, he found twenty-five eggs, about the size of a bantam's
eggs, but with whitish skin instead of shell.

"I was not a day too soon," he said; for he could see the
baby cobras curled up inside the skin, and he knew that the
minute they were hatched they could each kill a man or a
mongoose. He bit off the tops of the eggs as fast as he could,
taking care to crush the young cobras, and turned over the
litter from time to time to see whether he had missed any. At
last there were only three eggs left, and Rikki-tikki began to
chuckle to himself, when he heard Darzee's wife screaming:

"Rikki-tikki, I led Nagaina toward the house, and she has
gone into the veranda, and -- oh, come quickly -- she means
killing!"

Rikk-tikki smashed two eggs, and tumbled backward down the
melon-bed with the third egg in his mouth, and scuttled to the
veranda as hard as he could put foot to the ground. Teddy and
his mother and father were there at early breakfast; but
Rikki-tikki saw that they were not eating anything. They sat
stone-still, and their faces were white. Nagaina was coiled up
on the matting by Teddy's chair, within easy striking distance
of Teddy's bare leg, and she was swaying to and fro singing
a song of triumph.

"Son of the big man that killed Nag," she hissed, "stay
still. I am not ready yet. Wait a little. Keep very still, all
you three. If you move I strike, and if you do not move I
strike. Oh, foolish people, who killed my Nag!"

Teddy's eyes were fixed on his father, and all his father
could do was to whisper, "Sit still, Teddy. You must n't move.
Teddy, keep still."

Then Rikki-tikki came up and cried: "Turn round, Nagaina;
turn and fight!"

"All in good time," said she, without moving her eyes. "I
will settle my account with you presently. Look at your friends,
Rikki-tikki. They are still and white; they are afraid. They
dare not move, and if you come a step nearer I strike."

"Look at your eggs," said Rikki-tikki, "in the melon-bed
near the wall. Go and look, Nagaina." The big snake turned half
round, and saw the egg on the veranda. "Ah-h! Give it to me,"
she said.

Rikki-tikki put his paws one on each side of the egg, and
his eyes were blood-red. "What price for a snake's egg? For a
young cobra? For a young kingcobra? For the last -- the very
last of the brood? The ants are eating all the others down
by the melon-bed."

Nagaina spun clear round, forgetting everything for the
sake of the one egg; and Rikki-tikki saw Teddy's father shoot
out a big hand, catch Teddy by the shoulder and drag him across
the little table with the tea-cups, safe and out of reach of
Nagaina.

"Tricked! Tricked! Tricked! Rikk-tck-tck!" chuckled
Rikki-tikki. "The boy is safe, and it was I -- I -- I that
caught Nag by the hood last night in the bath-room." Then he
began to jump up and down, all four feet together, his head
close to the floor. "He threw me to and fro, but he could not
shake me off. He was dead before the big man blew him in two. I
did it. Rikki-tikki-tck-tck! Come then, Nagaina. Come and fight
with me. You shall not be a widow long."

Nagaina saw that she had lost her chance of killing Teddy,
and the egg lay between Rikki-tikki's paws. "Give me the egg,
Rikki-tikki. Give me the last of my eggs, and I will go away and
never come back," she said, lowering her hood.

"Yes, you will go away, and you will never come back; for
you will go to the rubbish-heap with Nag. Fight, widow! The big
man has gone for his gun! Fight!"

Rikki-tikki was bounding all round Nagaina, keeping
just out of the reach of her stroke, his little eyes like hot
coals. Nagaina gathered herself together, and flung out at
him. Rikki-tikki jumped up and backward. Again and again
and again she struck, and each time her head came with a
whack on the matting of the veranda and she gathered herself
together like a watch-spring. Then Rikki-tikki danced in a
circle to get behind her, and Nagaina spun round to keep her
head to his head, so that the rustle of her tail on the matting
sounded like dry leaves blown along by the wind.

He had forgotten the egg. It still lay on the veranda, and
Nagaina came nearer and nearer to it, till at last, while
Rikki-tikki was drawing breath, she caught it in her mouth,
turned to the veranda steps, and flew like an arrow down the
path, with Rikki-tikki behind her. When the cobra runs for her
life, she goes like a whiplash flicked across a horse's neck.

Rikki-tikki knew that he must catch her, or all the trouble
would begin again. She headed straight for the long grass by the
thorn-bush, and as he was running Rikki-tikki heard Darzee still
singing his foolish little song of triumph. But Darzee's wife
was wiser. She flew off her nest as Nagaina came along, and
flapped her wings about Nagaina's head. If Darzee had helped
they might have turned her; but Nagaina only lowered her hood
and went on. Still, the instant's delay brought Rikki-tikki up
to her, and as she plunged into the rat-hole where she and Nag
used to live, his little white teeth were clenched on her tail,
and he went down with her -- and very few mongooses, however wise
and old they may be, care to follow a cobra into its hole. It was
dark in the hole; and Rikki-tikki never knew when it might open
out and give Nagaina room to turn and strike at him. He held on
savagely, and struck out his feet to act as brakes on the dark
slope of the hot, moist earth.

Then the grass by the mouth of the hole stopped waving, and
Darzee said: "It is all over with Rikki-tikki! We must sing his
death-song. Valiant Rikki-tikki is dead! For Nagaina will surely
kill him underground."

So he sang a very mournful song that he made up all on the
spur of the minute, and just as he got to the most touching part
the grass quivered again, and Rikki-tikki, covered with dirt,
dragged himself out of the hole leg by leg, licking his
whiskers. Darzee stopped with a little shout. Rikki-tikki shook
some of the dust out of his fur and sneezed. "It is all over,"
he said. "The widow will never come out again." And the red ants
that live between the grass stems heard him, and began to troop
down one after another to see if he had spoken the truth.

Rikki-tikki curled himself up in the grass and slept where
he was -- slept and slept till it was late in the afternoon, for
he had done a hard day's work.

"Now," he said, when he awoke, "I will go back to the
house, Tell the Coppersmith, Darzee, and he will tell the garden
that Nagaina is dead."

The Coppersmith is a bird who makes a noise
exactly like the beating of a little hammer on a copper pot; and
the reason he is always making it is because he is the
town-crier to every Indian garden, and tells all the news to
everybody who cares to listen. As Rikki-tikki went up the path, he
heard his "attention" notes like a tiny dinner-gong; and then the
steady "Ding-dong-tock! Nag is dead -- dong! Nagaina is dead!
Ding-dong-tock!" That set all the birds in the garden singing,
and the frogs croaking; for Nag and Nagaina used to eat frogs as
well as little birds.

When Rikki got to the house, Teddy and Teddy's mother (she
looked very white still, for she had been fainting) and Teddy's
father came out and almost cried over him; and that night he ate
all that was given him till he could eat no more, and went to
bed on Teddy's shoulder, where Teddy's mother saw him when she
came to look late at night.

"He saved our lives and Teddy's life," she said to her
husband. "Just think, he saved all our lives."

Rikki-tikki woke up with a jump, for all the mongooses are
light sleepers.

"Oh, it's you," said he. "What are you bothering for? All
the cobras are dead; and if they were n't I'm here."

Rikki-tikki had a right to be proud of himself; but he did
not grow too proud, and he kept that garden as a mongoose should
keep it, with tooth and jump and spring and bite, till never a
cobra dared show its head inside the walls.




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