The black panther
A black shadow dropped down into the circle. It was Bagheera the Black Panther, black as ink all over. He had the marks on his fur that ordinary panthers had, but he was so black you could hardly see them. Everybody knew Bagheera, and nobody liked to make him angry. He was as cunning as Tabaqui the jackal, as brave as the wild buffalo, and he took risks like a wounded elephant. But his voice was as smooth as wild honey dripping from a tree, and his skin was very soft. " Akela, and you Free People," he purred, "I don't belong in your assembly, but the Law of the Jungle says that if there is a doubt about a new cub, the life of that cub may be bought at a price. And the Law does not say who has to pay that price. Am I right?"
"Good! Good!" said the young wolves, who are always hungry. "Listen to Bagheera. The cub can be bought for a price. It is the Law."