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English to Indonesian: Mowgli's Brother General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - English Mowgli's Brothers
Now Rann the Kite brings home the night
That Mang the Bat sets free—
The herds are shut in byre and hut
For loosed till dawn are we.
This is the hour of pride and power,
Talon and tush and claw.
Oh, hear the call!—Good hunting all
That keep the Jungle Law!
Night-Song in the Jungle
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."
It was the jackal—Tabaqui, the Dish-licker—and the wolves of India despise Tabaqui because he runs about making mischief, and telling tales, and eating rags and pieces of leather from the village rubbish-heaps. But they are afraid of him too, because Tabaqui, more than anyone else in the jungle, is apt to go mad, and then he forgets that he was ever afraid of anyone, and runs through the forest biting everything in his way. Even the tiger runs and hides when little Tabaqui goes mad, for madness is the most disgraceful thing that can overtake a wild creature. We call it hydrophobia, but they call it dewanee—the madness—and run.
"Enter, then, and look," said Father Wolf stiffly, "but there is no food here."
"For a wolf, no," said Tabaqui, "but for so mean a person as myself a dry bone is a good feast. Who are we, the Gidur-log [the jackal people], to pick and choose?" He scuttled to the back of the cave, where he found the bone of a buck with some meat on it, and sat cracking the end merrily.
"All thanks for this good meal," he said, licking his lips. "How beautiful are the noble children! How large are their eyes! And so young too! Indeed, indeed, I might have remembered that the children of kings are men from the beginning."
Now, Tabaqui knew as well as anyone else that there is nothing so unlucky as to compliment children to their faces. It pleased him to see Mother and Father Wolf look uncomfortable.
Tabaqui sat still, rejoicing in the mischief that he had made, and then he said spitefully:
"Shere Khan, the Big One, has shifted his hunting grounds. He will hunt among these hills for the next moon, so he has told me."
Shere Khan was the tiger who lived near the Waingunga River, twenty miles away.
"He has no right!" Father Wolf began angrily—"By the Law of the Jungle he has no right to change his quarters without due warning. He will frighten every head of game within ten miles, and I—I have to kill for two, these days."
"His mother did not call him Lungri [the Lame One] for nothing," said Mother Wolf quietly. "He has been lame in one foot from his birth. That is why he has only killed cattle. Now the villagers of the Waingunga are angry with him, and he has come here to make our villagers angry. They will scour the jungle for him when he is far away, and we and our children must run when the grass is set alight. Indeed, we are very grateful to Shere Khan!"
"Shall I tell him of your gratitude?" said Tabaqui.
"Out!" snapped Father Wolf. "Out and hunt with thy master. Thou hast done harm enough for one night."
"I go," said Tabaqui quietly. "Ye can hear Shere Khan below in the thickets. I might have saved myself the message."
Father Wolf listened, and below in the valley that ran down to a little river he heard the dry, angry, snarly, singsong whine of a tiger who has caught nothing and does not care if all the jungle knows it.
"The fool!" said Father Wolf. "To begin a night's work with that noise! Does he think that our buck are like his fat Waingunga bullocks?"
"H'sh. It is neither bullock nor buck he hunts to-night," said Mother Wolf. "It is Man."
The whine had changed to a sort of humming purr that seemed to come from every quarter of the compass. It was the noise that bewilders woodcutters and gypsies sleeping in the open, and makes them run sometimes into the very mouth of the tiger.
"Man!" said Father Wolf, showing all his white teeth. "Faugh! Are there not enough beetles and frogs in the tanks that he must eat Man, and on our ground too!"
The Law of the Jungle, which never orders anything without a reason, forbids every beast to eat Man except when he is killing to show his children how to kill, and then he must hunt outside the hunting grounds of his pack or tribe. The real reason for this is that man-killing means, sooner or later, the arrival of white men on elephants, with guns, and hundreds of brown men with gongs and rockets and torches. Then everybody in the jungle suffers. The reason the beasts give among themselves is that Man is the weakest and most defenseless of all living things, and it is unsportsmanlike to touch him. They say too—and it is true—that man-eaters become mangy, and lose their teeth.
The purr grew louder, and ended in the full-throated "Aaarh!" of the tiger's charge.
Then there was a howl—an untigerish howl—from Shere Khan. "He has missed," said Mother Wolf. "What is it?"
Father Wolf ran out a few paces and heard Shere Khan muttering and mumbling savagely as he tumbled about in the scrub.
"The fool has had no more sense than to jump at a woodcutter's campfire, and has burned his feet," said Father Wolf with a grunt. "Tabaqui is with him."
"Something is coming uphill," said Mother Wolf, twitching one ear. "Get ready."
The bushes rustled a little in the thicket, and Father Wolf dropped with his haunches under him, ready for his leap. Then, if you had been watching, you would have seen the most wonderful thing in the world—the wolf checked in mid-spring. He made his bound before he saw what it was he was jumping at, and then he tried to stop himself. The result was that he shot up straight into the air for four or five feet, landing almost where he left ground.
"Man!" he snapped. "A man's cub. Look!"
Directly in front of him, holding on by a low branch, stood a naked brown baby who could just walk—as soft and as dimpled a little atom as ever came to a wolf's cave at night. He looked up into Father Wolf's face, and laughed.
"Is that a man's cub?" said Mother Wolf. "I have never seen one. Bring it here."
A Wolf accustomed to moving his own cubs can, if necessary, mouth an egg without breaking it, and though Father Wolf's jaws closed right on the child's back not a tooth even scratched the skin as he laid it down among the cubs.
"How little! How naked, and—how bold!" said Mother Wolf softly. The baby was pushing his way between the cubs to get close to the warm hide. "Ahai! He is taking his meal with the others. And so this is a man's cub. Now, was there ever a wolf that could boast of a man's cub among her children?"
"I have heard now and again of such a thing, but never in our Pack or in my time," said Father Wolf. "He is altogether without hair, and I could kill him with a touch of my foot. But see, he looks up and is not afraid."
The moonlight was blocked out of the mouth of the cave, for Shere Khan's great square head and shoulders were thrust into the entrance. Tabaqui, behind him, was squeaking: "My lord, my lord, it went in here!"
"Shere Khan does us great honor," said Father Wolf, but his eyes were very angry. "What does Shere Khan need?"
"My quarry. A man's cub went this way," said Shere Khan. "Its parents have run off. Give it to me."
Shere Khan had jumped at a woodcutter's campfire, as Father Wolf had said, and was furious from the pain of his burned feet. But Father Wolf knew that the mouth of the cave was too narrow for a tiger to come in by. Even where he was, Shere Khan's shoulders and forepaws were cramped for want of room, as a man's would be if he tried to fight in a barrel.
"The Wolves are a free people," said Father Wolf. "They take orders from the Head of the Pack, and not from any striped cattle-killer. The man's cub is ours—to kill if we choose."
"Ye choose and ye do not choose! What talk is this of choosing? By the bull that I killed, am I to stand nosing into your dog's den for my fair dues? It is I, Shere Khan, who speak!"
The tiger's roar filled the cave with thunder. Mother Wolf shook herself clear of the cubs and sprang forward, her eyes, like two green moons in the darkness, facing the blazing eyes of Shere Khan.
"And it is I, Raksha [The Demon], who answers. The man's cub is mine, Lungri—mine to me! He shall not be killed. He shall live to run with the Pack and to hunt with the Pack; and in the end, look you, hunter of little naked cubs—frog-eater—fish-killer—he shall hunt thee! Now get hence, or by the Sambhur that I killed (I eat no starved cattle), back thou goest to thy mother, burned beast of the jungle, lamer than ever thou camest into the world! Go!"
Father Wolf looked on amazed. He had almost forgotten the days when he won Mother Wolf in fair fight from five other wolves, when she ran in the Pack and was not called The Demon for compliment's sake. Shere Khan might have faced Father Wolf, but he could not stand up against Mother Wolf, for he knew that where he was she had all the advantage of the ground, and would fight to the death. So he backed out of the cave mouth growling, and when he was clear he shouted:
"Each dog barks in his own yard! We will see what the Pack will say to this fostering of man-cubs. The cub is mine, and to my teeth he will come in the end, O bush-tailed thieves!"
Mother Wolf threw herself down panting among the cubs, and Father Wolf said to her gravely:
"Shere Khan speaks this much truth. The cub must be shown to the Pack. Wilt thou still keep him, Mother?"
"Keep him!" she gasped. "He came naked, by night, alone and very hungry; yet he was not afraid! Look, he has pushed one of my babes to one side already. And that lame butcher would have killed him and would have run off to the Waingunga while the villagers here hunted through all our lairs in revenge! Keep him? Assuredly I will keep him. Lie still, little frog. O thou Mowgli—for Mowgli the Frog I will call thee—the time will come when thou wilt hunt Shere Khan as he has hunted thee."
Translation - Indonesian Saudara-saudara Mowgli
Sekarang, Sang layang-layang Rann membawa kembali sang malam
Yang dibebaskan Mang si kelelawar
Kawanan itu telah dibungkam, di dalam kandang dan pondok
Kita bebas hingga senja tiba
Inilah waktu kebanggaan dan kekuatan,
Cakar dan taring dan taji.
Oh, dengar panggilan itu! Selamat berburu kepada semua
Yang menegakkan hukum Rimba
Lagu Malam Hari di hutan rimba.
Pukul tujuh, sebuah malam yang hangat di Perbukitan Seeonee ketika Ayah Serigala bangun dari tidur siangnya, menggaruk dirinya sendiri, menguap, dan meregangkan kaki-kakinya satu persatu, untuk mengusir rasa kantuk di ujung keempatnya. Ibu Serigala berbaring dengan hidung kelabu besarnya terkulai kepada empat anaknya yang sedang melenguh dan bermanja, dan bulan berkilau di mulut gua tempat tinggal mereka. “Aurgh!” seru Ayah Serigala. “Saatnya berburu kembali.” Dia baru saja akan melompat menuruni bukit, ketika sebuah bayangan kecil berekor tebal melewati pagar dan mengeluh: “Keberuntungan bagimu, O Pemimpin para Serigala. Dan nasib baik dan gigi putih yang kuat beserta anak-anak yang termuliakan sehingga mereka tak pernah melupakan yang lapar di dunia ini”
Ternyata sang anjing hutan—Tabaqui, sang penjilat—dan serigala-serigala India membencinya karena dia melakukan hal-hal buruk, dan menceritakan kisah-kisah dongeng, dan memakan kain dan potongan kulit dari tumpukan sampah desa. Tetapi mereka pun takut kepadanya, karena Tabaqui, lebih dari siapapun di hutan, akan marah, dan dia akan melupakan bahwa dia pernah takut kepada siapapun, dan lari melewati hutan, menggigit semua yang ditemuinya. Bahkan sang harimau berlari dan bersembunyi ketika Tabaqui marah, karena kemarahan adalah hal paling buruk yang dapat menguasai makhluk liar. Kita menyebutnya hidrofobia (ketakutan akan air), tetapi mereka menyebutnya dewanee—kegilaan tersebut—dan berlari.
“Masuklah kalau begitu, dan lihatlah,” kata Ayah Serigala dengan tenang, “tetapi tidak ada makanan di sini.”
“Tidak ada untuk seekor serigala,” kata Tabaqui, “tetapi untuk orang sekejam aku, bahkan sepotong tulang kering adalah makanan yang mewah. Siapakah kami, para Gidur-log [orang-orang anjing hutan], untuk memilah dan memilih?” Dia berlari ke ujung belakang gua, di mana dia menemuka sepotong tulang yang masih sedikit berdaging, dan duduk memakannya dengan riang.
“Terima kasih untuk makanan enak ini,” katanya, menjilat bibir. “Sungguh elok para anak-anak termuliakan! Betapa besar mata mereka! Dan masih demikian muda! Tentu saja, tentu saja, aku mungkin masih ingat bahwa anak-anak raja adalah manusia dari awalnya.”
Sekarang, Tabaqui tahu, sebagaimana semua orang yang ada di sana ,bahwa tidak ada yang lebih tidak baik daripada memuji anak-anak di depan muka mereka. Sungguh menyenangkan dirinya, melihat Ayah dan Ibu Serigala tampak tidak nyaman.
Tabaqui duduk diam, berbahagia atas kenakalan yang baru dilakukannya, dan dia berkata dengan licik:
“Shere Khan, sang Megah, telah memindahkan tanah buruannya. Dia akan berburu di sekitar perbukitan ini, sebagaimana yang telah diberitahukannya kepadaku”
Shere Khan adalah harimau yang tinggal dekat Sungai Waingunga, dua puluh mil jauhnya.
“Dia tidak berhak!” Ayah Serigala memulai pembicaraan dengan marah—“Sesuai Hukum Rimba, dia tidak memiliki hak untuk mengubah daerahnya tanpa peringatan terlebih dahulu. Dia akan menakuti setiap buruan dalam jarak sepuluh mil, dan aku—aku harus berburu dua kali lipat, belakangan ini.”
“Ibunya tidak memanggilnya Lungri [si Pincang] tanpa alasan,” kata Ibu Serigala dengan tenang. “Dia sudah pincang dan hanya berkaki satu dari lahir. Itulah mengapa dia hanya membunuh ternak. Sekarang para penduduk desa Waingunga murka terhadapnya, dan dia telah datang kemari untuk membuat penduduk desa kita marah. Mereka akan menyisir hutan untuk mencarinya ketika dia sudah jauh, dan kita dan anak-anak kita harus melarikan diri ketika rumput mulai dibakar. Ya, tentu saja, kami sangat berterima kasih kepada Shere Khan!”
“Haruskah kusampaikan ucapan terima kasihmu?” kata Tabaqui.
“Keluar!” seru Ayah Serigala. “Keluar dan berburulah dengan tuanmu. Kau sudah membuat cukup banyak kekacauan malam ini.”
“Aku pergi,” kata Tabaqui perlahan. “Kalian bisa mendengar Shere Khan di bawah sana, di antara semak. Mungkin aku sudah tidak perlu menyampaikan pesan”
Ayah Serigala mendengar, dan di bawah sana, di lembah yang berujung kepada sebuah sungai kecil, dia mendengar keluhan yang keruh, geram, dan marah, keras dan lembut bergantian, dari seekor harimau yang gagal menangkap apapun dan tidak peduli sekalipun seluruh hutan mengetahuinya.
“Si bodoh itu!” kata Ayah Serigala. “Mengawali kerja malam ini dengan keributan seperti itu! Apakah dia pikir rusa buruan kita seperti kerbau-kerbau gemuk di Waingunga?”
“Hush. Dia tidak memburu rusa atau kerbau malam ini,” kata Ibu Serigala. “Manusia.”
Seruan keluh itu sudah berubah menjadi sejenis geraman yang seolah datang dari seluruh penjuru mata angin. Suara itu pulalah yang sudah menakuti para penebang pohon dan gipsi yang tidur di alam terbuka, dan membuat mereka berlari, terkadang tepat ke depan mulut sang harimau.
“Manusia!” kata Ayah Serigala, memperlihatkan seluruh taringnya yang putih. “Brengsek! Apakah tidak cukup kumbang dan katak di dalam tangki, hingga dia harus memakan manusia, dan terlebih di daerah kita!”
Hukum Rimba, yang tidak pernah memerintahkan sesuatu tanpa alasan, melarang setiap binatang untuk memakan Manusia kecuali ketika dia membunuh untuk menunjukkan kepada anak-anaknya cara membunuh, dan juga dia harus berburu di luar tanah buruan kawanannya. Alasan sesungguhnya adalah bahwa pembunuhan terhadap manusia berarti cepat atau lambat, akan tiba orang-orang berkulit putih menunggang gajah, dengan senapan, dan ratusan orang berkulit coklat dengan gong dan roket dan obor. Kemudian semua yang ada di rimba menderita. Alasan yang diberikan para binatang satu sama lain adalah bahwa manusia adalah yang paling lemah dan paling tidak berdaya di antara semua makhluk hidup, dan sangat tidak sportif untuk menyentuhnya. Mereka juga berkata—dan memang benar demikian—bahwa pemakan manusia akan berkudis, dan kehilangan gigi mereka.
Geraman itu menjadi semakin keras, dan berakhir dengan lengkingan “Aaaarh!” bersamaan dengan serangan sang harimau.
Kemudian terdengar sebuah lolongan—yang tidak terdengar seperti harimau—dari Shere Khan. “Dia gagal,” kata Ibu Serigala. “Apa gerangan?”
Ayah Serigala berlari beberapa langkah dan mendengar Shere Khan menggerutu dan berbisik kesal ketika ia terpeleset ke dalam semak.
“Si bodoh itu tidak memiliki cukup akal sehat untuk tidak melompat ke api unggun, dan membakar kakinya,” kata Ayah Serigala dengan kesal. “Tabaqui ada bersamanya.”
“Sesuatu sedang berjalan mendaki bukit,” kata Ibu Serigala, memicingkan satu telinga. “Bersiaplah.”
Semak-semak itu bergerak sedikit, dan Ayah Serigala merunduk dengan kaki terlipat di bawahnya, siap untuk menerjang. Dan, bila saja kau turut menyaksikan, kau mungkin sudah melihat hal paling luar biasa di dunia ini—serigala melompat seperti per. Dia begitu yakin sebelum melihat apa yang diterjangnya, dan dia berusaha menghentikan dirinya sendiri. Hasilnya, dia melompat tegak lurus ke udara sekitar empat hingga lima kaki, mendarat hampir tepat dari tempat ia melompat.
“Manusia!” teriaknya. “Anak manusia. Lihat!”
Tepat di depannya, di sebuah cabang rendah, berdiri seorang bayi telanjang berkulit coklat yang baru saja dapat berjalan—halus dan berlekuk sebagaimana atom kecil yang pernah datang ke gua serigala pada saat malam. Dia melihat ke atas, ke wajah Ayah Serigala, dan tertawa.
Seekor serigala yang terbiasa memindahkan anak-anaknya bisa, bila perlu, membawa sebutir telur di mulutnya tanpa memecahkannya, dan meskipun taring Ayah Serigala terkatup tepat di punggung si bayi, tidak ada satu pun taring yang menggores kulit tersebut ketika dia meletakkannya di antara para anak serigala.
“Begitu mungil! Begitu telanjang, dan—begitu tampan!” kata Ibu Serigala dengan lembut. Bayi tersebut menggeser beberapa anak serigala untuk mendekati kulit yang hangat. “Ahai! Dia makan dengan yang lain. Dan ini adalah bayi manusia. Sekarang, apakah pernah ada seekor serigala memelihara anak manusia di antara anak-anaknya?”
“Aku telah mendengar berkali-kali tentang hal semacam itu, tetapi tidak pernah di kawanan kita, atau pada masaku,” kata Ayah Serigala. “Dia tidak berambut, dan aku bisa membunuhnya dengan satu sentuhan kakiku. Tapi lihat, dia menatap ke atas, dan tidak takut.”
Sinar bulan terhalangi dari mulut gua, karena kepala dan bahu persegi besar Shere Khan menerobos gerbang masuk. Tabaqui, di belakangnya, mendecit: “Tuanku, tuanku, dia masuk kemari!”
“Shere Khan, suatu kehormatan,” kata Ayah Serigala, tetapi matanya sangat marah. “Apa yang dibutuhkan Shere Khan?”
“Mangsaku. Anak manusia, masuk ke mari,” kata Shere Khan. “Orang tuanya telah melarikan diri. Serahkan dia kepadaku.”
Shere Khan sudah melompat ke dalam api unggung penebang kayu, sebagaimana dikatakan Ayah Serigala, dan masih marah dari rasa sakit di kakinya yang terbakar. Tetapi Ayah Serigala tahu bahwa mulut gua tersebut terlalu sempit bagi seekor harimau untuk masuk. Meskipun di tempat asalnya, bahu dan kaki depan Shere Khan kehabisan ruang gerak, sebagaimana manusia mencoba berkelahi di dalam tong.
“Para serigala adalah makhluk bebas,” kata Ayah Serigala. “Mereka menerima perintah dari pimpinan kawanan, dan tidak dari pembunuh ternak yang belang. Anak manusia itu adalah milik kita—untuk kita bunuh, bila kita inginkan.”
“Kalian memilih dan kalian tidak memilih! Apa pilihan yang kalian bicarakan ini? Demi banteng yang tadi kubunuh, apakah aku datang ke kandang anjingmu ini untuk berbicara dan tawar menawar? Adalah aku, Shere Khan, yang berbicara!”
Auman harimau memenuhi gua dengan gemuruh. Ibu Serigala melepaskan dirinya dari anak2nya, dan melompat maju, matanya, bagai dua bulan hijau di kegelapan, menghadapi mata berkilat milik Shere Khan.
“Dan adalah aku, Raksha [Sang Iblis] yang menjawab. Anak manusia itu milikku, Lungri—milikku dan hanya milikku! Dia tidak akan dibunuh. Dia akan hidup untuk berlari bersama kawanan dan berburu bersama kawanan; dan pada akhirnya, lihatlah kau, pemburu anak-anak kecil telanjang—pemakan katak—pembunuh ikan—dia akan memburumu! Sekarang pergilah, atau demi Sambhur yang kubunuh (Aku tidak memakan ternak kelaparan), kembalilah ke ibumu, binatang rimba yang terbakar, lebih cacat dari kapanpun sejak kau dilahirkan di dunia ini! Pergi!”
Ayah Serigala melihat dengan kagum. Dia hampir lupa hari-hari ketika ia memenangkan Ibu Serigala dengan pertarungan yang adil dengan lima serigala lainnya, ketika dia turut berlari dalam kawanan dan dipanggil Sang Iblis bukan semata karena pujian. Shere Khan mungkin dapat menghadapi Ayah serigala, tetapi tidak mungkin ia dapat menghadapi Ibu Serigala, karena dia tahu bahwa Ibu serigala memiliki semua kelebihan di tanah, dan siap bertarung hingga mati. Maka ia mundur dari mulut gua sambil menggeram, dan ketika dia sudah terdengar jelas, dia berteriak:
“Setiap anjing menggonggong di tanahnya sendri! Kita akan melihat pendapat kawanan mengenai mengasuh anak manusia ini. Anak ini milikku, dan kepada gigiku lah dia akan kembali pada akhirnya, wahai pencuri berekor tebal!”
Ibu Serigala menghempaskan dirinya di antara anak-anaknya, dan Ayah serigala berkata kepadanya dengan tenang:
“Shere Khan berbicara kebenaran. Anak ini harus diperlihatkan kepada kawanan. Apakah kau akan tetap memeliharanya, Ibu?”
“Tentu saja tetap!” teriaknya. “Dia datang telanjang, di malam hari, sendirian dan sangat lapar; tetapi dia tidak takut! Lohat, dia telah mendorong salah satu anakku ke sisi yang lain. Dan penjagal cacat itu mungkin akan membunuhnya dan akan lari ke Waingunga, sedangkan para penduduk desa berburu ke seluruh liang kita untuk membalas dendam! Memeliharanya? Tentu saja aku akan tetap memeliharanya. Berbaringlah dengan tenang, kodok kecil. Oh kau, Mowgli—karena aku akan memanggilmu Mowgli si Kodok—Waktunya akan tiba ketika kau akan memburu Shere Khan sebagaimana dia memburumu.”
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