Bagheera sprang to his feet, thrust up his head as far as he
could, sniffed, and stiffened through every curve in his body.
Gray Brother followed his example quickly, keeping a little
to his left to get the wind that was blowing from the right,
while Akela bounded fifty yards up wind, and, half-crouching,
stiffened too. Mowgli looked on enviously. He could smell things
as very few human beings could, but he had never reached the
hair-trigger-like sensitiveness of a Jungle nose; and his three
months in the smoky village had set him back sadly. However,
he dampened his finger, rubbed it on his nose, and stood erect
to catch the upper scent, which, though it is the faintest,
is the truest.

"Man!" Akela growled, dropping on his haunches.

"Buldeo!" said Mowgli, sitting down. "He follows our trail, and
yonder is the sunlight on his gun. Look!"

It was no more than a splash of sunlight, for a fraction of a
second, on the brass clamps of the old Tower musket, but nothing
in the Jungle winks with just that flash, except when the clouds
race over the sky. Then a piece of mica, or a little pool, or
even a highly-polished leaf will flash like a heliograph. But
that day was cloudless and still.

"I knew men would follow," said Akela triumphantly. "Not for
nothing have I led the Pack."

The four cubs said nothing, but ran down hill on their