Маугли
Her Majesty’s Servants
Acamelhadblunderedintoit,andwetandangryasIwas,Icouldnothelplaughing.ThenIranon,becauseIdidnotknowhowmanycamelsmighthavegotloose,andbeforelongIwasoutofsightofthecamp,plowingmywaythroughthemud.
AtlastIfelloverthetail-endofagun,andbythatknewIwassomewhereneartheartillerylineswherethecannonwerestackedatnight.AsIdidnotwanttoplowteraboutanymoreinthedrizzleandthedark,Iputmywaterproofoverthemuzzleofonegun,andmadeasortofwigwamwithtwoorthreerammersthatIfound,andlayalongthetailofanothergun,wonderingwhereVixenhadgotto,andwhereImightbe.
JustasIwasgettingreadytogotosleepIheardajingleofharnessandagrunt,andamulepassedmeshakinghiswetears.Hebelongedtoascrew-gunbattery,forIcouldheartherattleofthestrapsandringsandchainsandthingsonhissaddlepad.Thescrew-gunsaretinylittlecannonmadeintwopieces,thatarescrewedtogetherwhenthetimecomestousethem.Theyaretakenupmountains,anywherethatamulecanfindaroad,andtheyareveryusefulforfightinginrockycountry.
Behindthemuletherewasacamel,withhisbigsoftfeetsquelchingandslippinginthemud,andhisneckbobbingtoandfrolikeastrayedhen’s.Luckily,Iknewenoughofbeastlanguage—notwild-beastlanguage,butcamp-beastlanguage,ofcourse—fromthenativestoknowwhathewassaying.
