The Weekend Australian - Travel - - TRAVEL & INDULGENCE -

‘This is the story of the great war that Rikki-tikki­tavi fought sin­gle-handed, through the bath-rooms of the big bun­ga­low in Se­gowlee can­ton­ment. Darzee, the Tailor­bird, helped him, and Chuchun­dra, the musk-rat, who never comes out into the mid­dle of the floor, but al­ways creeps round by the wall, gave him ad­vice, but Rikki-tikki-tavi did the real fight­ing. He was a mon­goose, rather like a lit­tle cat in his fur and his tail, but quite like a weasel in his head and his habits. His eyes and the end of his rest­less nose were pink. He could scratch him­self any­where he pleased with any leg, front or back, that he chose to use. He could fluff up his tail till it looked like a bot­tle brush, and his war cry as he scut­tled through the long grass was: Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikkitchk!’



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