“A black shadow dropped down into the circle. It was Bagheera the Black Panther, inky black all over, but with the panther markings showing up in certain lights like the pattern of watered silk. Everybody knew Bagheera, and nobody cared to cross his path, for he was as cunning as Tabaqui, as bold as the wild buffalo, and as reckless as the wounded elephant. But he had a voice as soft as wild honey dripping from a tree, and a skin softer than down.”

“I had never seen the jungle. They fed me behind bars from an iron pan till one night I felt that I was Bagheera - the Panther - and no man's plaything, and I broke the silly lock with one blow of my paw and came away; and because I had learned the ways of men, I became more terrible in the jungle than Shere Khan.”

“Thou art of the Jungle and not of the Jungle. And I am only a black panther. But I love thee, Little Brother.”

“... and when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.”

“Of course the Man was wild too. He was dreadfully wild. He didn't even begin to be tame till he met the Woman, and she told him that she did not like living in his wild ways. She picked out a nice dry Cave, instead of a heap of wet leaves, to lie down in; and she strewed clean sand on the floor; and she lit a nice fire of wood at the back of the Cave; and she hung a dried wild-horse skin, tail down, across the opening of the Cave; and she said, 'Wipe your feet, dear, when you come in, and now we'll keep house.”

“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. 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 all lived. "Augrh!” said Father Wolf. “It is time to hunt again.” He was going to spring down hill when a little shadow with a bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined: “Good luck go with you, O Chief of the Wolves. And good luck and strong white teeth go with noble children that they may never forget the hungry in this world.”

“Outsong in the Jungle[Baloo:] For the sake of him who showedOne wise Frog the Jungle-Road,Keep the Law the Man-Pack makeFor thy blind old Baloo's sake!Clean or tainted, hot or stale,Hold it as it were the Trail,Through the day and through the night,Questing neither left nor right.For the sake of him who lovesThee beyond all else that moves,When thy Pack would make thee pain,Say: "Tabaqui sings again."When thy Pack would work thee ill,Say: "Shere Khan is yet to kill."When the knife is drawn to slay,Keep the Law and go thy way. (Root and honey, palm and spathe, Guard a cub from harm and scathe!) Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, Jungle-Favour go with thee![Kaa:] Anger is the egg of Fear--Only lidless eyes see clear.Cobra-poison none may leech--Even so with Cobra-speech.Open talk shall call to theeStrength, whose mate is Courtesy.Send no lunge beyond thy length.Lend no rotten bough thy strength.Gauge thy gape with buck or goat,Lest thine eye should choke thy throat.After gorging, wouldst thou sleep ?Look thy den be hid and deep,Lest a wrong, by thee forgot,Draw thy killer to the spot.East and West and North and South,Wash thy hide and close thy mouth. (Pit and rift and blue pool-brim, Middle-Jungle follow him!) Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, Jungle-Favour go with thee![Bagheera:] In the cage my life began;Well I know the worth of Man.By the Broken Lock that freed--Man-cub, ware the Man-cub's breed!Scenting-dew or starlight pale,Choose no tangled tree-cat trail.Pack or council, hunt or den,Cry no truce with Jackal-Men.Feed them silence when they say:"Come with us an easy way."Feed them silence when they seekHelp of thine to hurt the weak.Make no bandar's boast of skill;Hold thy peace above the kill.Let nor call nor song nor signTurn thee from thy hunting-line. (Morning mist or twilight clear, Serve him, Wardens of the Deer!) Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, Jungle-Favour go with thee![The Three:] On the trail that thou must treadTo the threshold of our dread,Where the Flower blossoms red;Through the nights when thou shalt liePrisoned from our Mother-sky,Hearing us, thy loves, go by;In the dawns when thou shalt wakeTo the toil thou canst not break,Heartsick for the Jungle's sake; Wood and Water, Wind air Tree, Wisdom, Strength, and Courtesy, Jungle-Favour go with thee!”