at where it lies; And no one may carry away of that meat to his lair, or he dies. The Kill of the Wolf is the meat of the Wolf. He may do what he will, But, till he has given permission, the Pack may not eat of that Kill. Cub-Right is the right of the Yearling. From all of his Pack he may claim Full-gorge when the killer has eaten; and none may refuse him the same. Lair-Right is the right of the Mother. From all of her year she may claim One haunch of each kill for her litter; and none may deny her the same. Cave-Right is the right of the Father--to hunt by himself for his own: He is freed of all calls to the Pack; he is judged by the Council alone. Because of his age and his cunning, because of his gripe and his paw, In all that the Law leaveth open, the word of the Head Wolf is Law. Now these are the Laws of the Jungle, and many and mighty are they; But the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch and the hump is--Obey! If- If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream--and not make dreams your master; If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!' If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings--nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son! x x x I keep six honest serving-men (They taught me all I knew); Their names are What and Why and When And How and Where and Who. I send them over land and sea, I send them east and west; But after they have worked for me, I give them all a rest. I let them rest from nine till five, For I am busy then, As well as breakfast, lunch, and tea, For they are hungry men. But different folk have different views; I know a person small-- She keeps ten million serving-men, Who get no rest at all! She sends 'em abroad on her own affairs, From the second she opens her eyes-- One million Hows, two million Wheres, And seven million Whys! The Song of the little Hunter Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry, Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer, Through the Jungle very softly flits a shadow and a sigh-- He is Fear, 0 Little Hunter, he is Fear! Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watching shade, And the whisper spreads and widens far and near. And the sweat is on thy brow, for he passes even now-- He is Fear, 0 Little Hunter, he is Fear! Ere the moon has climbed the mountain, ere the rocks are ribbed with light, When the downward-dipping trails are dank and drear, Comes a breathing hard behind thee--snuffle-snuffle through the night-- It is Fear, 0 Little Hunter, it is Fear! On thy knees and draw the bow; bid the shrilling arrow go; In the empty, mocking thicket plunge the spear! But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood has left thy cheek-- It is Fear, 0 Little Hunter, it is Fear! When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the slivered pine-trees fall, When the blinding, blaring rain-squalls lash and veer, Through the war-gongs of the thunder rings a voice more loud than all- It is Fear, 0 Little Hunter, it is Fear! Now the spates are banked and deep; now the footless boulders leap-- Now the lightning shows each littlest leaf-rib clear-- But thy throat is shut and dried, and thy heart against thy side Hammers: Fear, 0 Little Hunter--this is Fear! Blue Roses Roses red and roses white Plucked I for my love's delight. She would none of all my posies-- Bade me gather her blue roses. Half the world I wandered through, Seeking where such flowers grew. Half the world unto my quest Answered me with laugh and jest. Home I came at wintertide, But my silly love had died, Seeking with her latest breath Roses from the arms of Death. It may be beyond the grave She shall find what she would have. Mine was but an idle quest-- Roses white and red are best. Mother o' Mine If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, 0 mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, 0 mother o' mine! If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, 0 mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, 0 mother o' mine! If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, 0 mother o' mine!  * From Miscellaneous Sources *  The Vampire A fool there was and he made his prayer (Even as you and I!) To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair (We called her the woman who did not care) But the fool he called her his lady fair-- (Even as you and I!) Oh, the years we waste and the tears we waste, And the work of our head and hand Belong to the woman who did not know (And now we know that she never could know) And did not understand. A fool there was and his goods he spent (Even as you and I!) Honour and faith and a sure intent (And it wasn't the least what the lady meant), But a fool must follow his natural bent (Even as you and I!) Oh, the toil we lost and the spoil we lost, And the excellent things we planned, Belong to the woman who didn't know why (And now we know that she never knew why) And did not understand. The fool was stripped to his foolish hide (Even as you and I!) Which she might have seen when she threw him aside (But it isn't on record the lady tried) So some of him lived but the most of him died (Even as you and I!) And it isn't the shame and it isn't the blame That stings like a white hot brand, It's coming to know that she never knew why (Seeing at last she could never know why) And never could understand. Recessional God of our fathers, known of old, Lord of our far-flung battle-line, Beneath whose awful Hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine-- Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget! The tumult and the shouting dies; The Captains and the Kings depart: Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget! Far-called, our navies melt away; On dune and headland sinks the fire: Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget! If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe, Such boastings as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law-- Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget! For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard, All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding, calls not Thee to guard, For frantic boast and foolish word-- Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord! Amen The Absent-Minded Beggar When you've shouted "Rule Britannia," when you've sung "God save the Queen"-- When you've finished killing Kruger with your mouth-- Will you kindly drop a shilling in my little tambourine For a gentleman in kharki ordered South? He's an absent-minded beggar, and his weaknesses are great-- But we and Paul must take him as we find him-- He is out on active service, wiping something off a slate-- And he's left a lot of little things behind him! Duke's son--cook's son--son of a hundred kings-- (Fifty thousand horse and foot going to Table Bay!) Each of 'em doing his country's work (and who's to look after their things?) Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and pay--pay--pay! There are girls he married secret, asking no permission to, For he knew he wouldn't get it if he did. There is gas and coals and vittles, and the house-rent falling due, And it's more than rather likely there's a kid. There are girls he walked with casual, they'll be sorry now he's gone, For an absent-minded beggar they will find him, But it ain't the time for sermons with the winter coming on-- We must help the girl that Tommy's left behind him! Cook's son--Duke's son--son of a belted Earl-- Son of a Lambeth publican--it's all the same to-day! Each of 'em doing his country's work (and who's to look after the girl?) Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and--pay! pay! pay! There are families by thousands, far too proud to beg or speak-- And they'll put their sticks and bedding up the spout, And they'll live on half o' nothing paid 'em punctual once a week, 'Cause the man that earns the wage is ordered out. He's an absent-minded beggar, but he heard his country call, And his reg'ment didn't need to send to find him: He chucked his job and joined it--so the job before us all Is to help the home that Tommy's left behind him! Duke's job--cook's job--gardener, baronet, groom-- Mews or palace or paper-shop--there's some one gone away! Each of 'em doing his country's work (and who's to look after the room?) Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and--pay! pay! pay! Let us manage so as, later, we can look him in the face, And tell him--what he'd very much prefer-- That, while he saved the Empire his employer saved his place, And his mates (that's you and me) looked out for her. He's an absent-minded beggar and he may forget it all, But we do not want his kiddies to remind him, That we sent 'em to the workhouse while their daddy hammered Paul, So we'll help the homes that Tommy left behind him. Cook's home--Duke's home--home of a millionaire-- (Fifty thousand horse and foot going to Table Bay!) Each of 'em doing his country's work (and what have you got to spare?) Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and--pay! pay! pay! The Female of the Species When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride, He shouts to scare the monster who will often turn aside. But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail. For the female of the species is more deadly than the male. When Nag, the wayside cobra, hears the careless foot of man, He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can, But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail-- For the female of the species is more deadly than the male. When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws, They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws-- 'Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale-- For the female of the species is more deadly than the male. Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say, For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away; But when hunter meets with husband, each confirms the other's tale-- The female of the species is more deadly than the male. Man, a bear in most relations, worm and savage otherwise, Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise; Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act. Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low, To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe. Mirth obscene diverts his anger; Doubt and Pity oft perplex Him in dealing with an issue--to the scandal of the Sex! But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same, And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail, The female of the species must be deadlier than the male. She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast May not deal in doubt or pity--must not swerve for fact or jest. These be purely male diversions--not in these her honour dwells-- She, the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else! She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate; And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same. She is wedded to convictions--in default of grosser ties; Her contentions are her children. Heaven help him, who denies! He will meet no cool discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child. Unprovoked and awful charges--even so the she-bear fights; Speech that drips, corrodes and poisons--even so the cobra bites; Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw, And the victim writhes in anguish--like the Jesuit with the squaw! So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands To some God of Abstract Justice--which no woman understands. And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him Must command but may not govern; shall enthrall but not enslave him. And She knows, because She warns him and Her instincts never fail, That the female of Her species is more deadly than the male!  * Notes to the Text *  An immense vocabulary, drawn from many historical, social and professional levels of the English language, is one of the characteristics of Kipling's poetry. Hardly any reader will fail to have recourse to a good dictionary now and again. These brief notes concentrate on the Asian and African allusions, British army jargon and a few other specialized geographical and historical terms. No attempt has been made to gloss such items as (to give only two instances) the parts of a ship's engine detailed in "McAndrew's Hymn" (not to mention the Scottish dialect!) or the far-flung topography of "The English Flag." A LEGEND OF THE FOREIGN OFFICE. "Simpkin": Hindustani pronunciation of champagne. Peg: small drink. C. S. I.: Companion of (the Order of) the Star of India, a high decoration. Cess: tax for special purpose. Bukhshi: commander in chief. Mahratta: a people of central western India. Hookum: order. Dasturi: bribery. Birthday honors: decorations announced on the occasion of the British monarch's birthday. C. I. E.: Companion of (the Order of) the Indian Empire, a lower-ranking decoration. Thana: police station. Lakh: 100,000 rupees. Zenana: harem. THE STORY OF URIAH. Uriah: husband of Bathsheba, whom King David sent to the front line to get him out of the way. Quetta: in what is now the Pakistani province Baluchistan, in Kipling's day a remote and dangerous post. Simla: Himalayan summer resort town for British officers in India. Screw: pay. Hurnai: Harnai, in the Quetta region. THE BETROTHED. Suttee: faithful Indian widow who cremates herself on her husband's pyre. THE BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST. Border: between British India and Afghanistan. Calkins: sharp metal pieces attached to horseshoes for stability; turning them would confuse the trail. Ressaldar: commander of a native cavalry troop. Snaffle: type of bridle bit. Byre: cowshed. Ling: heather. Peshawur: Peshawar, chief border town on the Indian (now Pakistani) side. Khyber: border pass near Peshawar. THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S MERCY. Durani: Durrani, Afghani tribal confederation. Baikh, Kandahar: provinces of Afghanistan. Kaffir: "unbeliever" in Arabic. Euzufzai: Afghani tribe. Reiver: robber, cattle rustler. Sungar: breastwork. Usbeg: Uzbek, a Central Asian people. Ramazan: Islamic fasting month. THE BALLAD OF THE 'BOLIVAR.' Hog: receive upward curvature in the keel. Lloyd's: London insurance house. IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE. Dwerg: dwarf. SolutrÊ, Crenelle: French prehistoric sites. Tr--l: Traill (the mid-nineteenth-century editor of the Encyclopaedia Britannica??). Allobrogenses: ancient Gallic tribe. Kew, Clapham: London suburbs. Khatmandhu: capital of Nepal. Martaban: town in Burma. TOMLINSON. Empusa: ancient Greek hobgoblin. TOMMY. Tommy Atkins: personification of the British enlisted man. Widow: Queen Victoria. 'FUZZY-WUZZY.' Paythan: Pathan, an Afghani people. Impi: body of warriors. Martini: Martini-Henry rifle. Square: hollow-square battle formation. GUNGA DIN. Aldershot: military camp near London. Bhisti: water carrier. Dooli: litter, stretcher. Lazarushian-leather: humorous combination of Lazarus and Russian leather. OONTS. Penk: tap. MANDALAY. Theebaw: Thibau, king of Burma 1878-1885, conquered by the British. Hathi: elephant. GENTLEMEN-RANKERS. The title term means rank-and-file soldiers who belonged to the gentry in civilian life. L'ENVOI (TO 'BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS'). Tents of Shem: connotes comfortable home territory. Peter: signal for setting sail. SESTINA OF THE TRAMP-ROYAL. Sestina: a poem written to the prosodic rules manifested in this one. Tucker: food, sustenance. THE LADIES. Prome: town in Burma. 'Oogli: Hugli, town in Bengal. De Castrer: de Castro, typical name of an Anglo-Indian (of mixed Indian and European--in this case, Portuguese--parentage). Neemuch, Mhow: in Central India. Meerut: city near Delhi. THE SERGEANT'S WEDDIN'. "An' a rogue is married to, etc.": the "etc." stands for "a whore"; the Victorians wouldn't spell it out, but they knew which word was intended. Twig: observe. THE 'EATHEN. Lance: lance corporal, still drawing private's pay. THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN: written 1899, an exhortation to the United States upon its acquisition of the Philippines. A SONG TO MITHRAS. Mithras: god of an Iranian salvation religion in the early centuries A.D., especially popular with legionaries through-out the Roman Empire. Wall: Hadrian's Wall in the north of England, Rome's northwesternmost frontier. HADRAMAUTI. Hadramauti: native of a region of what is now Saudi Arabia. Eblis: Satan. THE VAMPIRE: inspired by a painting by Philip Burne-Jones exhibited in London in 1897. THE ABSENT-MINDED BEGGAR: written during the Boer War and intended for public performance, it was set to music by Sir Arthur Sullivan. Paul: Kruger, the Boer leader. THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES: originally bearing the subtitle "A Natural History," this devastatingly misogynistic piece ironically was first published in the U.S. in The Ladies' Home Joumal! x x x 1 Bring water swiftly. 2 Mr. Atkins' equivalent for '0 brother.' 3 Be quick. 1 Hit you. 2 Water skin. 1 Camel--oo is pronounced like u in 'bull,' but by Mr. Atkins to rhyme with 'front.' 1 Head-groom. 1 Slang. 1 Not now. 1 To-morrow. 1 Wait a bit.