For the next three months, Mowgli didn’t leave the village.
He was too busy learning the ways and customs of humans.
First he found out he had to wear clothing all the time.
"This is so annoying," he thought.
His shirt felt itchy.
His shoes pinched his toes.
Then he had to learn how to count money, which he didn't understand at all.
"Why do humans have to buy things from each other?" he asked Messua.
"In the jungle you can just take what you want."
Messua laughed. "That's a good question," she said.
"I don't have an answer for you."
On top of these things, the village children often made him angry.
When they played games together, Mowgli stood by himself and watched.
The girl laughed at him.
"The jungle boy doesn't know how to play any games!"
"He can't make a fire either," one of the boys added.
"And he says the wrong words all the time."
Mowgli felt angry but he stayed quiet.
Whenever he got mad, he tried to think of Baloo.
"The law of the jungle says, keep your temper," the old bear had taught him.
"In the jungle your life and food depend on this."
Here in the village his life might depend on it too.
One night Mowgli joined the circle that formed every evening under a fig tree.
The people met to tell stories and gossip.
Monkeys sat in the fig tree's upper branches.
They chattered away for hours too.
Mowgli listened as the people told tales about gods, humans, and ghosts.
Buldeo was the village's chief hunter.
He told long stories about all the beasts in the jungle.
The children's eyes went wide as they listened to tales about panthers, elephants, and wild pigs.
Mowgli had to cover his face.
He didn't want anyone to see him laughing at Buldeo's silly tales.
But as Buldeo told one story after another, Mowgli couldn't help himself.
The boy's shoulders shook with laughter.
Then Buldeo started a new ghost story.
"This ghost lives inside a jungle tiger's body.
It's the tiger who stole Messua's son."
"What?" Mowgli burst out.
He couldn't sit there and stay quiet any longer.
"The jungle tiger isn't a ghost.
He's real. His name is Shere Khan."
Everyone turned to stare at Mowgli.
Buldeo was speechless with surprise for a few moments.
Then he glared at the boy.
"Oh! The jungle brat is speaking up!
If you're so wise, why don't you hunt down the tiger?
There is a reward for his hide."
"I will hunt him down one day," Mowgli said under his breath.
The hunter sneered. "Well, from now on, keep your mouth shut when your elders are speaking."
A few minutes later, Mowgli got up.
"I've been listening all evening," he said loudly.
"And Buldeo has spoken only one or two words of truth."
As Mowgli left the circle, Buldeo puffed and snorted.
"How dare the boy embarrass me like that!" the hunter said.
"This is not something that I will forget."
That night the priest visited Messua and her husband.
He said it was time to give Mowgli a job.
The next morning Mowgli was sent out with the other village children.
From now on, he would help to herd the village's buffalo and cattle.