Rikki-Tikki-Tavi

Far away in India there stood a big white house with a garden, and in it lived a dad, a mom and a little boy named Teddy. Two cobras lived in that garden too, Nag and Nagaina, and everyone around was afraid of them. That’s how things were, until a little mongoose named Rikki-Tikki-Tavi turned up.

Rikki-Tikki looked a bit like a cat and a bit like a weasel. His fur was gray, as if it had been dusted with powder. His tail was as fluffy as a bottle brush, his little eyes were pink, and his nose never stopped twitching. When Rikki-Tikki got angry, he puffed himself up until he was twice his size. And he had a battle cry, which he shouted as he raced through the tall grass:

“Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tchk!”

That’s how he got his name.

One summer the great rains came. The water flooded the burrow where Rikki-Tikki lived with his mom and dad, swept him up and carried him off down a ditch. He kicked his paws and grabbed at blades of grass, and then — splosh! — the current tossed him right out onto a garden path. And there he lay, wet, muddy and completely worn out.

“Mom!” Teddy called. “There’s a little animal here, and it isn’t moving!”

Mom bent down for a closer look.

“He’s alive,” she said. “He’s just cold and he’s swallowed a lot of water. Come on, let’s dry him off.”

They wrapped Rikki-Tikki in a warm towel and laid him by the fire. He sneezed once, he sneezed twice — and he opened his eyes.

Mongooses have a family rule: “Run and find out.” So Rikki-Tikki got straight down to business. He sniffed the towel, hopped onto the table, jumped from there onto Teddy’s shoulder, and poked his nose down Teddy’s collar.

“Ooh, that tickles!” Teddy laughed.

“Don’t be scared,” Dad said with a smile. “That’s just his way of saying hello. When nobody has ever frightened an animal, it’s easy to tame.”

By evening Rikki-Tikki had tasted a banana and a bit of boiled egg, stuck his nose in the inkwell (and was very sorry he had), and singed his whiskers on the lamp. When Teddy went to bed, the mongoose curled up at his feet. But like all mongooses, he slept with one ear open, and the moment anything rustled, he was wide awake.

“He won’t bite the child, will he?” Mom asked quietly.

“Never,” said Dad. “With an animal like that around, Teddy is safer than he’d be with the best watchdog in the world.”

In the morning Rikki-Tikki ran out into the garden. And what a garden it was! The roses had grown so big that you could hide under them like in a little summerhouse. There were lemon trees and orange trees and rustling bamboo, and the grass grew tall and thick.

“Now this is a place for hunting!” said Rikki-Tikki, licking his lips.

Then he heard someone crying. Two tailorbirds sat on a thorny bush, Darzee and his wife. They had stitched themselves a nest out of two big leaves, and now they were swaying above it and cheeping sadly.

“Why are you crying?” asked Rikki-Tikki.

“Something terrible has happened,” sighed Darzee. “Yesterday Nag crept up to our nest and swallowed one of our eggs.”

“Hmm,” said Rikki-Tikki. “That is sad. But who is this Nag?”

Darzee and his wife didn’t answer. They just dived into their nest as fast as they could. From the grass under the bush came a soft s-s-s-s, and slowly, slowly, a big black cobra rose up. He was as long as a garden bench, and the pattern on his spread hood looked like a pair of spectacles.

“Who is Nag?” hissed the cobra. “I am Nag. Look at me and tremble.”

For a moment Rikki-Tikki was frightened, just as anyone would be. But he knew that grown-up mongooses fight snakes. He had never fought a live cobra himself, but he also knew that Nag was afraid of mongooses. And if someone is afraid of you, they’re not so scary after all.

“So what?” said Rikki-Tikki, and his tail fluffed up again. “Your pattern is very pretty. But stealing eggs from other birds' nests isn’t pretty at all.”

Nag swayed from side to side, talking slowly and sweetly and never taking his eyes off Rikki-Tikki. Then all of a sudden Darzee squeaked:

“Behind you! Look behind you!”

Rikki-Tikki didn’t stop to look. He jumped — hop! — as high as he possibly could. Right underneath him — whoosh! — Nagaina’s head shot past. While Nag kept the mongoose busy talking, his wife had sneaked up from behind.

Rikki-Tikki landed — thump! — right on her back and bit her, but he couldn’t hold on, so he sprang away. Nagaina hissed angrily and slipped off into the grass, and Nag slithered after her.

Rikki-Tikki sat down and scratched behind his ear. His heart was pounding.

Two against one, he thought. I’ll have to keep my eyes open.

In the afternoon he was running along the path near the house, where Teddy was playing in the dust. Suddenly the dust moved. A tiny grayish-brown snake was lying there, exactly the same color as the ground. It was Karait. He was no bigger than an earthworm, but his bite was every bit as dangerous as a cobra’s.

“Watch out,” Karait hissed in a thin little voice. “I’m dangerous.”

Rikki-Tikki’s eyes turned red, the way they always did when he was angry. He danced around the little snake, stepping from paw to paw. Karait struck — once! — and missed. He struck again, and missed again. The third time Rikki-Tikki didn’t wait. He leaped, grabbed Karait from behind by the head, and held on until the snake stopped wriggling.

“Mom! Dad!” Teddy shouted. “Rikki-Tikki fought a snake!”

Mom and Dad came running. Mom scooped Rikki-Tikki up and hugged him tight, as if he’d just been fished out of the ditch all over again.

“You saved our Teddy,” she whispered.

All this fuss made Rikki-Tikki want to giggle. He had only done what mongooses always do.

At supper that evening he could have eaten as much as he liked, but he didn’t. A hungry mongoose is light and quick, and Rikki-Tikki had a feeling the fighting wasn’t over yet.

When everyone had gone to bed, he set off to patrol the house. Something was scratching along the wall in the dark hallway. It was Chuchundra, the gray muskrat, who was afraid of everything in the whole world and was always sniffling.

“Don’t bite me, Rikki-Tikki!” squeaked Chuchundra.

“Who said anything about biting you?” snorted the mongoose. “I hunt snakes, not rats.”

“Shh!” Chuchundra was trembling all over. “Nag goes everywhere. Listen.”

Rikki-Tikki listened. From somewhere came the faintest scritch-scratch, like scales rubbing against brick. The sound was coming from the bathroom, which had a hole in the wall for the water to drain out.

The mongoose crept closer. On the other side of the wall, Nag and Nagaina were talking quietly.

“Once the people are gone from the house,” hissed Nagaina, “the mongoose will leave too. Then the garden will be ours again. Our eggs in the melon patch will hatch any day now, and our little ones need peace and quiet.”

“Leave it to me,” Nag replied. “I’ll hide in the bathroom. In the morning the man will come in to wash, and that’s when I’ll bite him.”

Swish! Nag squeezed through the hole, wrapped himself around the big water jar and lay perfectly still.

Rikki-Tikki sat in the dark and waited. An hour went by, and then another. At last Nag dozed off.

If I bite, it has to be the head, the mongoose thought. And I must never, ever let go.

He sprang. His teeth sank into Nag’s head, and the fight was on! The cobra lashed his tail, tossed the mongoose up and down and banged him against the floor. Bang! Over went the soap dish. Clang! Down fell the tin dipper. Rikki-Tikki was shaken about like a rag, but he held on.

Don’t let go, he kept telling himself. Whatever you do, don’t let go.

Then — BOOM! — came a bang so loud that the windows rattled. Dad had woken up and come running with his gun, and that was the end of Nag.

Dad picked up the mongoose, who was so tired he could barely move.

“This little fellow again,” he said softly. “Now he’s saved us too.”

Mom stood there, as white as chalk. And Rikki-Tikki, battered and bruised all over, hobbled to Teddy’s bed, curled up into a ball and fell asleep.

In the morning he woke up with one thought: Nagaina is still here. And now she’s very, very angry.

Out in the garden Darzee was singing at the top of his voice. He sang about how Nag was gone, and about brave Rikki-Tikki.

“That’s enough!” Rikki-Tikki called. “This is no time for singing! Where does Nagaina hide her eggs?”

“In the melon patch, by the wall, where the sun is hottest,” Darzee answered. “But you’re not going there, are you?”

“Yes, I am. But I need Nagaina to stay away from it.”

Darzee was a kind little bird, but not a very clever one. His wife, though, was very clever indeed. She fluttered down to the ground near Nagaina and began to hobble along, dragging one wing.

“Oh, my wing!” she cheeped. “Oh, I can’t fly!”

Nagaina lifted her head.

“Can’t you? How lovely,” she hissed, and slithered after the bird.

Meanwhile Rikki-Tikki raced to the melon patch as fast as his legs would carry him. The eggs lay there in the warm earth, white and leathery. He began biting through them one after another: crack! crack! With every egg, there was a little less trouble in the garden. Only three eggs were left when Darzee’s wife cried out from far away:

“Rikki-Tikki! Nagaina’s on the veranda! She’s near the people!”

Rikki-Tikki grabbed one egg in his teeth and dashed to the house.

The family was having breakfast on the veranda, but nobody was eating. Dad, Mom and Teddy sat perfectly still, as pale as the tablecloth. Nagaina lay coiled beside Teddy’s chair, swaying and murmuring softly:

“Sit nice and still. If you move, I’ll bite. And if you don’t move, I’ll bite anyway.”

“Nagaina!” Rikki-Tikki shouted. “Turn around! Look what I’ve got!”

The cobra turned. The mongoose put the egg down between his paws.

“This is your last egg,” he said. “The rest are still in the melon patch, but they’re all empty now.”

For a moment Nagaina forgot about everything else in the world. Dad didn’t waste a second. He grabbed Teddy by the shoulder and pulled him across the table, away from the snake.

“Ha!” laughed Rikki-Tikki. “Teddy is safe. Now it’s just you and me, Nagaina.”

“Give me the egg,” she hissed. “Give it to me, and I’ll leave this garden forever.”

“Oh, you’ll leave,” Rikki-Tikki agreed. “But not the way you think.”

And he danced around her: hop to the left, hop to the right. Nagaina struck again and again, and every time she caught nothing but air. Then suddenly she lunged, snatched up the egg and raced across the garden toward her hole as fast as she could go.

Rikki-Tikki dashed after her. Right at the mouth of the hole he caught hold of her tail, and he disappeared underground along with her.

“Oh no, our Rikki-Tikki is lost!” wailed Darzee. “Nobody has ever come back out of a cobra’s hole!”

The garden went very, very quiet. Even the wind stopped blowing.

Then the grass by the hole began to stir, and out climbed Rikki-Tikki. He was covered in dust and had dirt on his whiskers, but he was alive. The mongoose shook himself off, sneezed and said:

“That’s that. Nagaina will never come out again.”

Then a coppersmith bird flew up onto a branch. His voice rings out like someone banging on a copper pot, and he began ding-donging all over the garden:

“Ding! Dong! Nag is gone! Nagaina is gone! Ding!”

The birds began to sing, and the frogs in the pond started croaking. Even Chuchundra peeked out from under the wall and stopped sniffling.

Rikki-Tikki went back to the house. Mom burst into tears and petted him, Dad just shook his head and smiled, and Teddy wouldn’t leave his side for a second. That evening Rikki-Tikki finally ate as much as he wanted.

“Oh, stop fussing,” he snorted, licking his whiskers. “There aren’t any more cobras. And even if there were, well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

Rikki-Tikki had every right to be proud of himself, but it never went to his head. He guarded his garden the way a true mongoose should, with a snap and a leap, a pounce and a bite. And from that day on, no cobra ever dared to show so much as the tip of its nose there.