His spots are the joy of the Leopard: his horns are
            the Buffalo's pride.
Be clean, for the strength of the hunter is known by
            the gloss of his hide.
If you find that the bullock can toss you, or heavy-
                browsed Sambhur con gore;
You need not stop work inform us: we knew it ten
                seasons before.
Oppress not the cubs of the stranger, but hail them
             as Sister and Brother,
For though they are little and fubsy, it may be the
              Bear is their mother.
"There is none like to me," says the Cub in the pride
             of his earliest ****;
But the Jungle is large and the Cub he is small. Let
             him think and be still.