Umboo, the Elephant | Page 4

one of the men, as he loosed the heavy
elephant chains. "You must help us with the wagon."
Out of the circus tent walked the big elephant. He could understand
some of the things the circus men said to him, just as your dog can
understand you, when you call:
"Come here, Jack!" Then he runs to you, wagging his tail. But if you
say:
"Go on home, Jack!"
How his tail droops, and how sadly your dog looks at you, even though
you know it is best for him to go back, and not, perhaps, go to school
with you, like Mary's little lamb.
So, in much the same way, Umboo knew what the men wanted of him.
He was led across the circus lot, outside the big, white tent, that was
gay with many-colored flags, and as Umboo swayed along, some boys,
who were watching for what they might see, caught sight of the great
elephant.
"Hey, Jim! Here's one of the big ones!" shouted one boy.
"Maybe he's going to take a drink out of the canal," said another.
"Maybe they're going to give him a swim," spoke a third boy.
But the men had something else for Umboo to do just then. They led
him to where one of the big wagons, covered with red and gold paint,
and shiny with pieces of looking glass, was stuck fast in the mud on a
hill. For it had rained the day before the circus came to show in the
town, and the ground was soft.
"Now, Umboo!" called the circus man, who was really one of the
elephant keepers, and who gave them food and water, "now, Umboo,

let us see if you can get this wagon out of the mud, as you did once
before. The horses can not pull it, but you are stronger than many
horses."
The horses, with red plumes on their heads, were still hitched to the
wagon. There were eight of them, but they had pulled and pulled, and
still the wagon was stuck in the mud.
"Are you going to help us, Umboo?" asked one of the horses who knew
the elephant, for the circus animals can talk among themselves, just as
you boys and girls do. "Are you going to help us?"
"I am going to try," Umboo answered. "You look tired, horsies! Take a
little rest now, while I look and see which is the best way to push. Then,
when I blow through my nose like a trumpet horn, you pull and I'll
push, and we'll have the wagon out of the mud very soon!"
Umboo was led up to the back of the wagon. He looked at where the
wheels were sunk away down in the soft ground, and then, being the
strongest and most wise of all the beasts of the world, the elephant put
his big, broad head against the wagon.
"Now, then, horsies! Pull!" he cried, trumpeting through his trunk,
which was hollow like a hose. "Pull, horsies!"
The horses pulled and Umboo, the elephant, pushed, and soon the
wagon was out on firm, hard ground.
"That's good!" cried the circus man. "I knew Umboo could do it!"
Then he gave the elephant a sweet bun, which he had saved for him,
and back to the tent went Umboo.
"Now, please go on with your story!" begged Chako. "Tell us what
happened in the jungle."
"I will," said Umboo, and this is the story he told. Umboo was only one
of a number of baby elephants that lived with their fathers and mothers

in the deep, green jungles of India. Not like the other jungle beasts were
the elephants, for the big animals had no regular home. They did not
live in caves as did the lions and tigers, for no cave was large enough
for a herd of elephants.
And, except in the case of solitary, or lonely elephants, which are often
savage beasts, or "rogues," all elephants live in herds--a number of
them always keeping together, just like a herd of cows.
Another reason why elephants do not live in one place, like a lion's
cave, or in a nest or lair under the thick grass where a tiger brings up
her striped babies, is that elephants eat so much that they have to keep
moving from place to place to get more food.
They will eat all there is in one part of the jungle, and then travel many
miles to a new place, not coming back to the first one until there are
more green leaves, fresh grass, or new bark on the trees which they
have partly stripped.
So Umboo, the two-hundred-pound baby elephant, lived with his
mother in the jungle, drinking nothing but milk for the first six months,