"What is it?" asked Mr. Stumptail, and some of the others. "What is the matter now?"

"I smell danger," cried Tusker. "I smell the man-smell, and that always means danger to us. There are hunters coming—either black or white—and they will have guns or bows and arrows to shoot us. We are near danger and we must go far away. Come, elephants—away!"

Tusker raised his trunk again, and took a long breath through it. He was smelling to see in which direction the danger of the man-smell lay, and he would turn aside from that.

"The smell comes from the South," he said to the other elephants. "We must march to the North! Come!"

So he led the way through the jungle, Umboo and the other elephants following. As yet only a few of the others had smelled the danger- smell, and none of them heard any noise made by the hunters, if they were coming to shoot their guns or bows and arrows. But they all knew that Tusker was a wise elephant, and would lead them out of trouble. So they followed him.

On and on through the jungle crashed the big animals. They did not stop when trees and bushes got in their way, but broke them down, and stepped on them. A rush of elephants through the jungle to get away from danger is almost as hard to stop as a runaway locomotive and train of cars.

"Can you keep up with us?" asked Umboo's mother of him as he trotted along beside her. "Are we going too fast for you?"

"Oh, no. I can go quite fast now," said the elephant boy, and he really could, for he had grown much in the last few months. Plenty of palm nuts and the bark and leaves of the jungle trees had made him taller and stronger, and his legs were better fitted for running.

Still Tusker was a wise old elephant, and he knew, even in running from danger, that it was not well to go so fast that the smaller animals in the herd could not keep up. If he did that they would fall behind, and be caught or killed. So, every now and then the old elephant leader stopped a bit, and looked back. If he saw any of the boys or girls lagging, or going slow, he would stop for them to rest a little.

Still, even with rests now and then, the herd went on very fast, crashing through the jungle, to get away from the danger. At last Tusker stopped, and said:

"Well, I think we have come far enough. We are beyond the reach of the hunters now. We can stop and eat and sleep in peace."

So the elephants stopped. You see, now, why it was they had no regular homes. They have to move so often, either to go to new places in the jungle to find food, or to run from danger, so that a cave, such as lions or tigers have, or a nest, such as birds live in, would be of no use to elephants. They must live in the open, ready to hurry on for many miles at a moment's notice.

Tusker, and some of the older and wiser beasts, listened as well as they could, flapping their big ears slowly to and fro. They also smelled the air with their trunks. And, as there was no sign of danger, they felt that it would be safe to take a long rest.

They were hungry; for running, or exercise, gives elephants appetites just as it does you boys and girls. And some of the smaller elephants were sleepy. For, though they do not lie down to rest, elephants must sleep, as do other beasts, although they do it standing up. That night the herd remained quietly in the new spot in the jungle whither Tusker had led them. Some of them ate and some of them slept, and when morning came they went to a river of water; and each one took a long drink. Some of them swam about, and it was now that Umboo and the young elephants had some fun.

For you know that jungle beasts—even the largest of them—like to play and have fun. You have seen kittens at play, and puppy dogs; and little lions and tigers, as well as the smaller elephants, like to do the same thing—have fun.

Umboo was standing on the bank of the river, having just been in for a swim, when Batu, another elephant boy, came up to him.

"Do you want to have some fun?" asked Batu.

"Yes," answered Umboo. "What doing?"

"Do you see Keedah over there, scraping his toe nails on a big stone?" asked Batu, for sometimes the toe nails of elephants grow too long and too rough, and have to be worn down. Keedah was doing this to his.

"Yes, I see him," answered Umboo. "What about him?"

"This," answered Batu, with a chuckling laugh that made him shake all over, for he was quite fat. "We will go up to him, as he stands with his back to the water, and while I am talking to him, and asking if his toe nails hurt, you can give him a push and knock him into the river."

"Oh, yes, we'll do that. It will be fun!" laughed Umboo.

For he knew that it would not hurt Keedah to splash into the water, and the elephant boys and girls used often to play that trick on one another, just as you children, perhaps, do at the seashore.

So up to the elephant boy, who was scraping his toe nails on a stone, slyly went Umboo and Batu. And Batu said:

"Ah, Keedah! Do your toes hurt you very much?"

"Oh, no, not so very much," was the answer. "I am getting to be a big elephant now, and I do not mind a little hurt."

"Ha! Then maybe you won't mind this!" suddenly cried Umboo with a laugh, as he quietly went up close to Keedah, and, butting him with his head, as a goat butts, knocked him down the bank into the river.

"Oh! Ugh! Blurg! Splub!" cried Keedah, as he splattered about in the water. "What are you doing that for?"

"Oh, just to have some fun," answered Umboo and Batu, laughing as they ran off.

"Well, I'll show you some more fun!" cried Keedah, as he scrambled up the river bank, and ran after the other two elephant boys, his trunk raised high in the air.

Umboo and Batu ran as fast as they could, of course, and Keedah raced after them. Finally he caught them, and struck them with his trunk. But it was all in fun, and no one minded it. Then, a little later, when Umboo was standing near the river, Keedah came up behind him and knocked him into the water.

"Now we are even!" laughed Keedah as he ran away.

"I don't mind!" said Umboo. "I was going in for another swim, anyhow. I like to be wet."

So he splashed about in the water and had fun, as did the other elephant boys and girls, and the larger elephants watched them, and let the water soak into their own tough hides.

For about a week the herd of elephants stayed near the jungle river. It was a good place for them. Many palm trees grew about, and there were plenty of other things to eat. There was water to drink and bathe in, and shade to rest in when the sun beat down too hot on the jungle. So the elephants liked it there.

But one day when Umboo and Batu were thinking up another fun-trick to play on Keedah, suddenly the trumpet call of Tusker was heard again.

"More danger!" exclaimed Umboo. "I wonder what it is this time?"

"Let us go ask," suggested Batu. "The others are getting ready to leave. They are closing in. Perhaps we have to run away again."

And that is just what the elephants had to do.

"It is the hunters once more!" cried Tusker. "I smell the man-smell! The danger-smell comes down to me on the wind. We must hurry on. Once more the hunters are after us!" and he trumpeted loudly on his trunk, to call in from the farthest parts of the forest the elephants who might have wandered away for food.

Soon the herd was on the march again. Swiftly they went through the jungle, breaking down small trees and big bushes. They stopped not for thorns, nor anything else in the path. On and on they went, crashing along—anywhere to get away from the hunters with their guns and arrows.

"Are these the same hunters from whom we ran before?" asked Umboo of his mother, as he trotted along beside her.

"I do not know," she answered. "It may be that they are."

For many miles Tusker led his elephant friends through the jungle. Then suddenly he stopped and gave a loud trumpet call.

"Does that mean it is all right, and that we can stop to rest?" asked Umboo.

"I do not think so," said Mr. Stumptail. "That still is Tusker's danger call. Perhaps there are hunters ahead of us, as well as behind."

Tusker stopped, and around him gathered the other elephants.

"What is the matter?" asked Umboo.

"See, boy," answered the old elephant. "There is a fence of big trees ahead. We can not get through that. It is right across our path," and with his trunk he pointed to where there was, indeed, a high fence made of trees, cut down and set closely in the earth and so strong that even the biggest elephant would have had hard work to knock them down.

"Well, if we can't go that way we can go another," said Tusker.

So he turned about, and walked off another way, the other elephants following him.

"Who put the fence there, Mother?" asked Umboo.

"I do not know," answered Mrs. Stumptail. "Perhaps the hunters did, so we could not get into their gardens and eat the corn and other things that grow there. Very good things grow in the gardens which the white and black men plant, and, more than once in the night, I have broken in and eaten them. But it is dangerous, and Tusker does not want to lead us into danger. We will keep away from the fence."

Now, though the elephants did not know it, this fence was not built to keep elephants out of a garden. There were no gardens in that part of the jungle. The fence was put up by hunters on purpose to turn the elephants back, and soon you shall hear why this was done.

"Are we in danger now?" asked Umboo of his father as they hurried along, close beside Tusker.

"No, I think we are all right now," said the oldest, wisest and largest elephant of the herd. "I am going to lead you to the salt springs, where we can taste the salt of the earth. One way is as good as another, and if the fence stops us on one path we will go a new way. We are going to the salt springs."

Every year the herds of elephants in India come down to eat salt, for they need it to keep them well, as horses and cows do on the farm. And the elephant hunters know this too, and so they get ready to capture the wild elephants when they come down each season to get the salt.

The herd was not going so fast now. Tusker felt that they were well away from the hunters, and, though seeing the fence at first scared him a little, he now thought everything was all right.

"We will have good times when we get to the salt springs," said Tusker to the other elephants. "There we can rest, and the hunters will not shoot us."

"Yes, I am hungry for some salt," said Mrs. Stumptail, for she had been to the springs before, and so had many of the older animals.

Along marched Tusker at the head of the herd, and after him came the others. They, too, were hungry for salt, and Umboo was quite anxious to taste some, for he had had very little, as yet. But he liked it very much, and was anxious for more.

But an hour or so later, when traveling along toward where the salt springs bubbled up in the jungle, Tusker suddenly stopped again. Once more he gave the danger signal through his trunk.

"What is the matter now?" asked Mr. Stumptail. "More trouble?"

"Another fence!" cried the old elephant. "The jungle is full of strong fences! We can not go this way, either!"

"What can we do?" asked Umboo. "There is a fence behind us, and now one in front of us. What can we do?"

"Let me think a minute," said Tusker. "I fear there is danger on both sides of us."



CHAPTER X

IN A TRAP

All the other elephants waited while Tusker stood there, swaying to and fro in the jungle thinking. Some people say animals do not think, but I believe they do. At least it is thinking to them, though it may not seem so to us.

"Well, are we going to stay here all day?" asked a young elephant, who was crowded in among the others at the back of the herd. "I want to get to some place where I can have palm nuts to eat. I am hungry. Let's go on!"

"Be quiet!" called Umboo's father to this elephant. "Don't you see that Tusker is trying to think, and find the best way out of danger for us. Wait a bit."

So the elephants waited, and finally Tusker with a shake of his big ears, said:

"I never knew anything like this before. Always when we have come to the salt springs the way has been clear. There have been no man-made fences to stop us. But, since they are here it must be that it is not meant for us to go where the fences are. Very well. I know how to get to the salt springs without going near these things across our paths. We can go straight ahead, between the two fences!"

And that was just what the hunters, who had put up the fences in the jungle wanted. They wanted the elephants to go along between them, for, at the places where the fences came to an end, was a strong stockade, or trap, to catch the wild elephants.

Umboo, and none of the other elephants knew this at the time, but they learned it later, to their sorrow, some of them. When hunters in the Indian jungle wish to capture a lot of wild elephants, to work for them, or to be turned into trick elephants for the circus, the hunters do this.

First they find the place where, each year, the wild elephants come down from the hills, or out of the jungle, to taste the salt. For, as I told you, elephants must have salt once in a while, just as horses, cows and sheep on the farm need it. The elephants will travel a long way, and brave many dangers, to get salt.

Knowing this the hunters build long fences on each side of the road leading down from the hills to the salt spring. When the elephants crash their way through the jungle, on their way to the salt, they come to one of the fences. This turns them aside, and they go along until they come to another.

Then, just as did Tusker, and his friend Umboo and the other elephants, being between two strong fences, there is only one other thing to do. They can go between them toward the salt spring, or away from it. But, as they want salt very much, the big animals tramp along the two miles of fence toward the salty place, and, knowing the elephants will do this, the hunters are ready for them. Now I shall tell you what happened.

For a few minutes longer Tusker stood swaying in the jungle. He was trying to think what was the best thing for him to do, for he was the leader of the herd, and they would all do as he did, just as a flock of sheep will follow the old ram, even on the dangerous railroad track sometimes.

"Come!" trumpeted Tusker through his trunk, "we will go between the two fences to the salt springs."

"Is the salt good, Mother?" asked Umboo, for he had only had a little in his life, and as I told you, hardly remembered it."

"Very good, indeed," said Mrs. Stumptail. "You shall soon see and taste for yourself."

So along through the jungle, half way between the two lines of fence, went the elephants, little and big. They had not gone very far before, all of a sudden, Tusker stopped and raised his trunk in the air.

"Be careful!" he cried. "I smell danger! I smell the man smell! Oh, elephants, I fear something is going to happen."

And something did happen.

From behind the herd of elephants, and from both sides of them, came a terrible noise. It was as though a hundred thunderbolts had been shot off at once, and a terrible clapping sound was heard, as if the wings of great birds were flapping.

These noises were made by hunters up in the trees on each side of, and behind, the elephants. The hunters fired their guns, making the noise like small thunder bolts and other black men banged pieces of dry wood together, making the clapping sound.

The elephants were very much frightened. Never before had they heard anything like this.

"Oh, what is it?" cried Umboo, keeping close to his mother. "What is it all about. Does the salt spring make that noise?"

"No, it isn't that," said Mrs. Stumptail. "That must be the danger of which Tusker spoke. Be quiet and listen to what he is saying."

The old elephant leader had to trumpet through his trunk as loudly as he could to be heard above the noise of the guns and clappers.

"There is danger, O Elephants!" cried Tusker. "The man-smell is all around us, and the terrible noises are behind, and on both sides of us. There is only one place that is quiet, and that is straight ahead. We must go that way! Forward!"

And straight ahead rushed the elephants, toward the place where there was no noise. As they went on Mr. Stumptail looked to either side and saw where the two lines of fence came together into a place like a big ring, and the ring also had a fence around it.

"Look, Tusker!" cried Umboo's father. "Is it all right to go there where the fence is?"

"It is the only place to go to get away from the hunters," said Tusker. "They are behind us and on both sides. Only ahead of us is there none. We must go that way!"

And this is just what the hunters wanted. They made no noise in front of the elephants on purpose so they would rush that way. For, in that direction, was the strongly fenced-in stockade, or trap, with long barriers on each side leading to it.

To the elephants, who were frightened by the shooting and clapping noises behind, and on both sides of them, the silence in front of them seemed just what they wanted. Toward it they ran, not knowing that the trap was waiting for them.

Into it they rushed, the noise behind them sounding louder and louder now, with more guns shooting and more clappers clapping. Into the quiet of the stockade rushed Tusker, Mr. and Mrs. Stumptail, Umboo, Keedah and all the others.

And then, when they were safely in the trap, a great big door of logs, as strong as the fence of trees of which the stockade was built, fell with a bang behind them, shutting the elephants in. Then the shooting and clapping stopped.

For a moment it was quiet in the jungle, the only sound being the wind blowing in the trees, or the rubbing of the rough-skinned elephants' bodies, one against the other, making a queer, shuffling noise. The big animals crowded together in the middle of the stockade trap, and waited for what would happen next.

"Is this the salt spring, Mother?" asked Umboo.

"No," she sadly answered. "It is not. This is dreadful!"

"What has happened?" asked Umboo. "And why do Tusker and the other big elephants look so scared?"

"Because we are caught in a trap," answered the boy elephant's mother. "I have heard tell of these places, but I was never in one before."

"Can't we get out?" Umboo wanted to know.

"Tusker will try, and so will your father," said Mrs. Stumptail. "All the strong elephants will try to break out. Perhaps it will be all right yet. Listen, Tusker is going to speak."

Tusker, the big bull, raised his trunk and said:

"O, Elephants! I am sorry, but I seem to have led you into a trap. I did not know it was here. I tried to lead you away from the man-smell and away from the danger, but I have led you into worse. Now I will try to get you out. I see what has happened. The hunters made their fences in the jungle so we could only come this way—this way into the trap. But we shall break out!

"Come over here by me, Mr. Stumptail, and you too, Mr. One Tusk, and you also, Bumper Head. Come, we will rush at the fence of this trap and batter it down. In that way we can get out. We shall fool these hunters yet. Come, we will batter down the fence and once more we will be in our jungle!"

"Yes, we will knock down the fence!" cried the other big elephants through their trunks. And they made such a rumble, and struck the ground so heavily with their great feet, that the earth trembled.



CHAPTER XI

UMBOO GOES TO SCHOOL

"What is going to happen now?" asked Umboo the big elephant boy of his mother, as the great creatures stood huddled together in the middle of the stockade, or trap. "What is going to happen now?"

"Wait and see," advised Mrs. Stumptail, and she was much worried.

I have called Umboo a "big" elephant boy, for he was small no longer. He had grown fast since I began telling you about him as a baby drinking milk, and now, though of course he was not as large as his mother or father, nor as strong as Tusker, I must not call him "little" any more.

"Come, Elephant brothers!" cried Tusker. "We will break down the trap fence, and then we shall be free to go out into our jungle again."

But it was not so easy to do this as it was to say it. The men who had built the fences and trap well know that the elephants would try to get out, and the stockade had been made very strong.

Besides this there had been dug, inside the trap, and close to where the heavy tree-stakes had been driven into the ground, a ditch, or trench. There was no water in this ditch but on account of the trench the elephants could not get near enough the inside of the fence to strike it with their heads. If they had done so they would have gotten their front feet into the dug-out place, and, perhaps, would have fallen over and hurt themselves.

So when Tusker and the others hoped to knock the fence down by hitting, or butting, it with their heads, they found they could not, as the ditch stopped them. They could only just reach the fence by stretching out their trunks; they could not bang it with their big heads as they wanted to.

"Can't we ever get out of the trap?" asked Umboo of his mother when Tusker and the others had found they could not knock down the stockade fence. "Can't we ever get out?"

"And did you ever get out?" eagerly asked Snarlie, the tiger, who, with the other circus animals, listened to Umboo's story. "Did you ever get out of the trap, Umboo?"

"Tell us about that part!" begged Woo-Uff, the lion. "Once I was caught in a trap, but it was made of a net, with ropes of bark. It was then that Gur, the kind boy, gave me a drink of water."

"And I was in a trap also," spoke Snarlie, the striped tiger. "I fell into a deep pit. It was almost like your trap, Umboo, except that the sides were of dirt, and the pit was very deep. I could not jump out. But after a while I did not mind being caught, for I was taken care of by Princess Toto."

"Let us hear how Umboo got out of the trap," said Chako, the monkey.

"How do you know he got out?" asked Humpo, the camel.

"Isn't he here with us now?" asked Chako, who was a very smart monkey. "And if he hadn't got out of the trap he wouldn't be here. Anybody knows that!"

"Oh, yes; that's so," said Humpo, who did not think much, being quite content to eat hay, and let others do most of the talking. "But, all the same," went on the humpy creature, "I should like to hear how Umboo did get out of the trap."

"I'll tell you," said the elephant boy, and he went on with his story.

When the big elephants found, because of the ditch, that they could not get near enough the stockade fence to knock it down with their big heads, they became very wild. They raised their trunks and made loud trumpet sounds through them. They beat the earth with their feet until the ground trembled, and some of them rushed at the gate, which had fallen shut behind them, as they hurried into the trap to get away from the noise.

But the gate, which had no ditch in front of it, was the strongest part of the trap, and the elephants could not batter it down, try as they did. Tusker and the others banged into it, but the gate held firmly.

"Well, if we can't get out, what are we going to do?" asked Umboo of his mother.

"We shall have to stay here until the hunter-men come, I suppose," answered Mrs. Stumptail.

"Will they shoot us?" asked Umboo.

"I hope not," his mother said.

But Umboo need not have been afraid of that. Elephants in India are worth too much to shoot. They can be sold to circuses and park menageries.

But, better than this, the elephants in India do much work. They pull great wagons, that many horses could not move, and they work in lumber yards, piling up the big, heavy logs of teakwood, from which those queer, Chinese carved tables and chairs are made, and which wood is also used in ships. The Indians teach the elephants how to pile up big logs very carefully, and so straight that a big pile may be made without one falling off. Besides this the rich men of India, the Princes, own many elephants, which they ride on in little houses, called howdahs which are strapped to the backs of the big animals.

But before the wild elephants can be used thus they must go to school, to learn to be gentle, and to do as their drivers, or mahouts, tell them to do. And so Umboo went to school and I shall tell you about that.

Of course it was not such a school as you boys go to, and the big elephant boy did not have to learn to read and write. But he had to learn the meaning of Indian words, so that when he heard them he would know which meant go to the right or which to the left, and which meant to stand still, to kneel down or to go forward.

But I am getting a little ahead of my story. Umboo was still in the stockade trap with the other elephants. And there they were kept two or three days, without anything to eat or anything to drink. Fast they were kept in the stockade, where they could not get out, and as the days passed, and they felt very badly at not having anything to eat, or anything to drink, the elephants grew more quiet. No longer did they rush at the fence, and fall into the ditch. They huddled together in the middle part, and rubbed their trunks against one another, as men, in trouble, might shake hands.

"Oh, will we ever get out of this, and have sweet bark and palm nuts to eat again?" asked Umboo. "It was almost better to be lost in the jungle, as I was, than it is to be here, for then I had enough to eat. But of course I was lonesome without you," he said to his mother. "But I am hungry now."

"Perhaps they will let us out, or feed us soon," she said.

And, a little while after this, a noise was heard at the strong gate of the trap. It was slowly opened, but the elephants that were caught did not rush out. They feared more danger.

And then, to the surprise of Umboo and the others, in through the gate came great big elephants, and on the tops of their heads sat men, dressed in black clothing. And the men had strong ropes in their hands.

As soon as Tusker saw these men, and smelled them, he cried through his trunk:

"Ho, Brothers! Here is danger indeed! I smell the man-smell, even though it comes with other elephants like ourselves. We must get away from the danger!"

Tusker rushed at the gate, but before he could reach it two of the new elephants, who were tame, hurried toward him. The men on their heads threw the big ropes about Tusker, and he was pulled by the two elephants over toward a tree in the stockade, where he was made fast.

Tusker tried, with all his strength to break the ropes, but they only slipped easily around the tree, from which the bark had been taken to make it smooth and slippery for this very purpose.

"Be quiet, big, wild elephant," said one of the tame ones with a man on his head. "Be quiet and tell your friends to be quiet also. No one will hurt them. They will have food to eat, and sweet water to drink, if they are quiet."

Tusker heard this, and so did some of the other wild elephants. They were hungry and thirsty.

"Will you give us water to drink?" asked Tusker, for his trunk and mouth were very dry.

"You shall have water enough to swim in," answered one of the keonkies, or tame elephants.

"And may we eat?"

"You shall have all the palm nuts you want. That is if you are quiet."

"Then," said Tusker to Umboo, and the other wild elephants, "we may as well take it easy and be quiet. Raging about will do us no good, and we must eat and drink."

So most of the wild elephants became quiet. Some of them still tore around, trumpeting, but the big tame elephants pulled them with ropes to the trees where they were made fast. Mrs. Stumptail, and the other mother elephants, soon calmed down, and the boys and girls, like Umboo and Keedah, did as their mothers did.

In a short time the wild elephants were all either tied fast to trees, or were led away between two of the tame ones. Umboo was taken away from his mother.

"Oh, where am I going?" he cried to the tame elephants, one on either side of him. "I want to stay with you, Mother! Where are you taking me?"

"Do not make such a fuss, elephant boy," spoke one of the tame ones. "You will come to no harm, and you will see your mother again. You are going to go to school. You are young, and you will learn much more easily than some of the big elephants. Also you will have good things to eat and water to drink. Be nice now, and come with us."

Umboo had to go along whether he wanted to or not, for the big, tame elephants would pull him by the ropes. They led him to a sort of stable, and there he found some green fodder, some palm nuts and a tub of water. And Umboo drank the water first, for he was very thirsty. Then he ate and he felt better, though he wondered what had become of his mother.

But he did not wonder long, for elephants, and other animals, are not like boys and girls. They grow up more quickly, and get ready to go about for themselves, getting their own food, and living their own lives. And Umboo was big enough, now, to get along without his mother.

"Were you once living in the jungle, as I was?" asked Umboo of Chang, which was the name of one of the tame elephants.

"Surely," answered Chang, "I was as wild as Tusker, your big herd- leader. But when I was caught in the trap, as you were, and sent to school, I found the life here was much easier than in the jungle. It is true I have to do as the mahouts tell me, but they treat me kindly, they feed me and I never have to go thirsty, and when my toe nails get too long they smooth them down for me with a rough brick. Also they scrub my skin to keep away the biting bugs. You will like it here, Umboo, and soon you will go to school and learn how to pile the teakwood logs."

"And will I ride men on my head?" asked Umboo.

"Yes, you will learn to do that, and many things more," said Chang. But even he did not know all the wonderful things that were to happen to Umboo, nor how he was to go in the circus.



CHAPTER XII

UMBOO IS SOLD

Umboo, the big elephant boy, did not at once begin to learn the teakwood log-piling lesson. Just as in school you do not learn to read the first day, so it was with Umboo. He had to be trained by his keeper and the keonkies, or tame elephants.

And, after the first feeling of being sorry at having been taken away from his mother, Umboo grew to like the new life. His mother was sent to another big stable, farther away, though Umboo saw her once in a while. With him, however, were many of the wild elephants he had known when the herd was in the jungle. Keedah was one of these elephants.

"I don't like it here at all!" snarled Keedah, when he had been led up beside Umboo, a few days after they had all been caught in the trap. "I don't like it, and I'm not going to stay!"

"What are you going to do?" asked Umboo.

"I am going to run away," said the elephant boy, whom Umboo had once, in fun, knocked into the river. "I am going to run away, and go out in the jungle."

"Oh, no. I wouldn't do that if I were you," quietly said one of the tame elephants, coming up behind Keedah just then, and the half-wild elephant was so surprised that he nearly dropped a wisp of hay he was eating.

"If you ran away we should have to run into the jungle after you," went on the tame elephant. "And when we brought you back you would not have a nice time. It is better to do as you are told, and to learn to do what the black and white men tell you. For then you will be kindly treated, and have plenty to eat. And the work you will learn to do, after you go to school, as you and Umboo will go, will not be hard. Take my advice and stay where you are."

"Well, I guess I'll have to," said Keedah, with a funny look at Umboo. "I didn't know he heard me," he whispered, as if the tame elephant were a teacher in school, which, in a way, he was.

And then began long days and months of lessons for Umboo and the other wild elephants. They were not wild any longer, for the first thing they learned was that the tame elephants would help them, and next that the white and black men would be kind to them and feed them. So the jungle elephants, who used to roam about with Tusker for their leader, lost most of their wildness, quieted down, and were sent to different places in India to work in the lumber yards, or to carry Princes on their backs.

Umboo and his mother had to say good-bye, but they hoped to meet again, and though for a time Umboo felt sad, he soon forgot it as he had many things to learn.

One of the first was to let a man come near him to pat his trunk, and to feed him. In the beginning Umboo was very much afraid, because he smelled the man-smell, which Tusker had so often said meant danger. But Umboo grew to know that not all men were dangerous. For, though some might be hunters, with guns and sharp arrows, those who had caught the wild elephants were kind to the big animals.

"I wonder why I am afraid of the man?" thought Umboo. "He is much smaller than I am. His head hardly comes up to my tusks, and some of the tame elephants are even larger than I. Why are we so afraid of the men as to do just as they tell us?"

Of course Umboo did not know, but it is because man, who is also an animal, is put in charge of all the beasts of the jungle, the woods and fields. Animals are given to help man, and to feed him. And as a man has more brains—that is he is smarter than animals—he rules over them. Thus it is that even great elephants, and savage lions and tigers, as well as horses, know that man is their master, and must do as he wants them to.

So, though he could see that he was larger than a man, Umboo did not think much farther than this, and so he never made up his mind that, if he wanted to, he could run away, and that no one man could hold him. But perhaps it was just as well as it was, and that the elephant remained gentle and did as he was told, not trying to use his great strength against his friends.

One of the first things Umboo learned was to walk along, when he was told to do so in the Indian language.

At first Umboo did not know what this word meant. But his keeper gently pricked him with a sharp hook, called an "ankus," and to get away from the prick, which was like the bite of a big fly, Umboo stepped out and walked away.

"Ha! That is what I wanted you to do, little one," said the Indian, speaking to Umboo as he might to a child. And indeed the Indian mahouts consider their elephants almost like children.

When Umboo had learned that a certain word meant that he was to walk along, he was taught two others, one of which meant to go to the left, and the other to go to the right. Then, in a few weeks, he learned a fourth word, which meant to stand still, and then a fifth one, which meant to kneel down.

And though, at first, the elephant boy did not like doing the things he was told to do, as well as he had liked playing about in the jungle, he soon grew to see that his life was easier than it had been with Tusker and the others.

He never had to hunt for food, as it was brought to him by the keepers. Nor was he ever thirsty. And, best of all, he never had to drop what he was eating and run away, crashing through the jungle, because Tusker, or some other elephant had trumpeted the call of:

"Danger! I smell the man-smell!"

Umboo was used to the man-smell now, and knew that no harm would come to him. He knew the men were his friends.

And so he who had once been a wild baby elephant, grew to be a tame, big strong beast, who could carry heavy teakwood logs on his tusks, and pile them in great heaps near the river, where they were loaded upon great ships. Umboo did not know the boats were ships, but they were, and soon he was to have a ride in one. But I have not reached that part of his story yet.

Sometimes, instead of being made to pile the logs in the lumber yard, Umboo would be taken into the forest, where the Indians cut the trees down. The forest was something like the jungle where the boy elephant had once lived with Tusker and the others, and where he had played, and once been lost.

In the forest were great trees of teakwood and these the elephant workers had to drag out so they could be loaded upon carts, with great wooden wheels, and brought to the river. One day Umboo and Keedah were taken together to the teak forest.

"Now is our chance, Umboo," said the other elephant after a while as they went farther and farther into the woods. "Now is our chance!"

"Our chance for what?" asked Umboo, speaking in elephant talk, of course, and which the Indian keepers did not always understand.

"This is our chance to run away and go back to the jungle," went on Keedah. "When the men are not looking, after we have hauled out a few big logs, we will go away and hide. At night we can run off to the jungle."

"No," said Umboo, shaking his trunk, "I am not going to do it. If we run away they will find us and bring us back. Besides, I like it in the lumber yard. It is fun to pile up the big logs, and lay them straight."

"Pooh! I don't think so," said Keedah, who had not given up all his wild ways. "I am going to run!"

And so, watching his chance, when the Indian men were not looking, Keedah sneaked off into the dark part of the woods. In a little while he was missed, and the keepers, with shouts, started after him. They tied Umboo to a tree with chains, leaving him there while they went to hunt Keedah.

"They need not have chained me," thought Umboo. "I would not run away. I like my men friends too much, for they are good to me."

The keepers got other elephants and hunted Keedah in the forest. For three days they searched for him, and at last they found him and brought him back. For Keedah had forgotten some of his wildness, and did not know so well how to keep away from the men who were after him, as he had known when he lived in the herd, with Tusker to lead the way.

So Keedah, tired and dirty, and hungry too, it must be said—for he had not found good things to eat in the woods—Keedah was brought back. And he was kept chained up for a week, and given only water and not much food. This was to tame him down, and make him learn that it did not pay to run off when he was taken to the teakwood forest.

"I wish I had done as you did, and stayed," said Keedah sorrowfully to Umboo. "I am not going to run away any more."

So Umboo and the other wild elephants who were caught at the same time as he was, stayed around the lumber camp, and did work for their white and black masters. Sometimes a few of the elephants were sold, and taken away by Indian Princes, to live in stables near the palaces, to have gold and silver cloths fastened on their backs, and then the howdahs, in which rode the rich Indians, would be strapped on.

Sometimes other wild elephants were brought in, having been caught as Umboo had been. And once Umboo helped to tame one of these little wild ones, telling him to be nice, as he would be kindly treated and have food and water.

And one day new adventures came to Umboo.

By this time he was a big, strong elephant, nearly fully grown, for it was now many years since he had been a baby in the jungle. And one day, as he was standing near a pile of lumber, that he had helped to build, one of the white men, whom he knew, and who had been kind to Umboo, took a handkerchief from his white, linen coat pocket, and wiped his face, for the day was hot.

Then a little spirit of mischief seemed to enter Umboo. And this little spirit, or fairy, seemed to whisper:

"Take his handkerchief out of his pocket with your trunk, Umboo, and make believe wipe your own face with it. That will be a funny little trick, and will make the men laugh, and maybe they will give you some soft, brown sugar." This the elephants like very much.

Umboo saw the edge of the handkerchief sticking out of the man's pocket. Very softly the elephant reached put his trunk and took it. Then Umboo flourished the piece of white linen in the air, as the man had done, and pretended to use it, though Umboo's face was much larger than the man's, and really needed no handkerchief.

The man turned around, as he heard his friends laughing, and when he saw what Umboo had done the man smiled and said:

"Ha! That elephant is too smart to be piling lumber. I heard the other day where I could sell one to go in a circus. I'll sell Umboo! He will make a good circus elephant, to do tricks."

And so Umboo was sold, though at first he did not know what that was, nor where he was to be taken. He only thought of how the men laughed when he took out the handkerchief from the pocket.



CHAPTER XIII

UMBOO ON THE SHIP

The man who bought Umboo was one who owned part of a circus. He traveled about in India, and other far-off countries, looking for strange animals that he could send to America, across the ocean, where they would be put in cages and tents and shown to boys and girls, and also grown-up folk. You may think a circus is all fun and peanuts and pink lemonade, but it also teaches us something. Without a circus many boys and girls would never know what an elephant looks like; or a lion, or tiger or camel, except, perhaps, by pictures.

"And I'll send this trick elephant over to a circus," said the man who had bought Umboo from the lumber yard. "I think he will be a smart elephant, and make the boys and girls laugh." He knew Umboo liked boys and girls, for many of them had ridden on his back as he worked in the lumber yard.

"I thought Umboo was smart as soon as I saw him take the handkerchief from my pocket,' said the lumber man to the circus man. "That is why I sent for you to let you buy him. For I knew you wanted a smart, young elephant for your circus."

"Yes, I am glad to get Umboo," spoke the circus man. "I wonder if he will do that handkerchief trick again? I'll try him."

So the circus man stood near our elephant friend, and let the end of his handkerchief stick a little way out of his pocket.

Umboo knew at once what was wanted of him.

"I'll just pull that white rag out and hear the men laugh," thought the elephant boy to himself. "I don't know why they think it is so funny, but I'll do it. I guess they would think it more funny if they could have seen me knock Keedah into the river."

Umboo reached out his trunk, when the man's back was turned toward him, and gently took out the handkerchief. Then the big elephant boy pretended to wipe his face with it.

"Ha! Ha!" laughed the circus man. "That is a good trick! I must give the elephant a big lump of sugar."

He did so, and Umboo liked it very much, letting the sweet juice trickle down his throat.

"I wish they would give me sugar every time I take out the white rag," thought Umboo. "It's fun!"

After this Umboo did not pile lumber any more. He was taken out of the yard, and kept by himself in a small stable, and given nice things to eat until one day the circus man opened the door and called:

"Well, Umboo, I guess we are ready to start now. You are going to say good-bye to India and to the jungle. You are going where Jumbo went— off to America to be in a circus show!"

Of course Umboo did not understand all that the circus man said to him, but the elephant boy thought to himself:

"Well, he is kind to me. He gives me sugar. I'll go with him, and pull that white rag out of his pocket as often as he lets me. I wonder what he was saying about Jumbo?"

For Umboo remembered hearing the other elephants talking about Jumbo, who, however, came from Africa and not from India.

"Come, Umboo!" called the circus man. "You are going on a big ship, and take a long ride. I hope you will not be seasick."

Umboo did not know exactly what a ship was. He had seen big boats come up the river, near where he worked, to get lumber, and some of the elephants, who had been down near the ocean shore, said those boats were ships. And of course Umboo did not know what it meant to be seasick.

However he liked the circus man, and when the elephant boy came out of the stable he felt around with his trunk in the man's pocket.

"For," thought Umboo, "if I pull that white rag out of his coat again, maybe he'll give me some more sweet sugar."

So, with the tip of his trunk, which could pick up little things, even as you can with your fingers, Umboo felt about for the handkerchief. He did not find it, however.

"Ha! Ha!" laughed the circus man, "You did not forget, did you? You are going to be a good trick elephant, I'm sure. Here is my handkerchief, in my other pocket. I put it there to fool you!" and he turned about so that the white cloth could be seen hanging down on the other side of his coat.

"Ha! That's funny!" thought Umboo. "I did not know the man had two pockets!"

Then the elephant pulled out the handkerchief again, and the man laughed and gave him a extra large lump of sugar.

"Now come with me, Umboo," said the man, and he led him away, out of the lumber yard.

"Where are you going?" called Keedah, and some of the other boys.

"I don't know," answered Umboo, in elephant talk, of course. "But I heard the man say something about making me do tricks in a circus."

"Oh, then you are going to have a fine, time," said one of the keonkies, or tame elephants, that help train the wild ones. "If you go to the circus you will have fun. A friend of mine was once in one, and then, in his old age, he came back to India to live. And he said he never enjoyed himself so much as in a circus. And how he did used to talk about the peanuts!"

"What are peanuts?" asked Umboo.

"I don't know," answered the keonkie, "but Zoop—that the was the name of my friend—said they were almost as good as the sweet sugar and palm nuts."

"Then they must be very good," said Umboo, "and I shall like them. Good-bye, friends!" he called. "Maybe some day I'll come back from the circus."

"But you never did; did you?" asked Snarlie the tiger, who, with the other animals in the tent, was listening to Umboo's story. "You never did go back, for you are here yet."

"No, I haven't gone back to India, and I don't believe I ever shall," spoke Umboo. "Sometimes I wish I could go back in the jungle for a little while, and get a few palm nuts, but the peanuts here are just as good, and there is never any danger."

"Please go on with your story," begged Horni, the rhinoceros. "I want to hear how you got over here, and joined the circus."

"I came on a ship, just as you did," answered Umboo, and then he went on to tell how he was led away from the lumber yard.

To get from the place where he had, for a year or more, been piling up teakwood logs, to the great, salt ocean which the ships crossed, Umboo had to take a ride on the railroad. He might have walked, but this would have taken too long.

Umboo had never before seen a railroad, a railroad car or a locomotive, and when he first noticed the big, black engine, puffing out smoke and steam, the elephant boy was as frightened as when he had seen the snake in the jungle. Umboo raised his trunk in the air, and made a loud trumpet sound of danger.

"Don't be afraid," said a tame elephant near by. "There is nothing to hurt you."

"Nothing to hurt me!" cried Umboo. "What do you call that big, black thing, whose breath steams out of the top of his head, as mine sometimes comes out of my trunk on a cold morning? Nothing to be afraid of? Why, that is worse than a big rhino! Much worse!"

"That is the engine, and it will give you a nice ride," said the tame elephant. "It will pull you along the shiny rails, and you will never have to lift your foot. Go close up to it, and see that it will not hurt you. Don't be afraid!"

Umboo trembled, but the circus man spoke kind words to him, and then the elephant walked slowly up to the engine, or locomotive. It snorted and puffed and tooted its whistle, and at each new sound Umboo started back, and would have run away. But the man spoke to him, and the tame elephant talked to him, and finally Umboo saw that the engine did not get off the shiny rails.

"Well, if it stays on them it can't chase after me," thought Umboo. "I can run to one side, but that big, black animal, that puffs steam out of the top of its head, can't. I guess I'll be all right."

Then Umboo was led past the engine, (which, of course, did him no harm) up a sort of little bridge of wood—a runway—that went from the ground into a big freight, or box car. At first Umboo feared this bridge might break with him, as he was so heavy, and an elephant doesn't like to step on anything that will give way and let him fall.

So Umboo first tried it with one foot, and then with another, and, finding it would not break, he stepped on it and walked into the car. There was plenty of straw in it, so Umboo would not be hurt if the car jolted as it rumbled along over the railroad tracks, and inside his new stable the elephant boy found some sweet roots and palm nuts.

He was so interested in eating these that, at first, he did not notice when the train started, and before he knew it Umboo found himself being pulled along without having to take a step.

"Ha!" thought the elephant. "It's just as the keonkie told me, I can move without lifting a foot! I am having a fine ride!"

Two days later Umboo reached the seashore and was led from the railroad car, and over to a big ship that was waiting in the harbor. To Umboo it looked more like a big house than a ship, and when they took him to the gang-plank, or another run-way, as they had taken him to the one that led into the freight car, he was again afraid something would break and let him fall. But when he tried it with his fore-feet, and found it firm, up it he walked and soon he was in a sort of stable, on board the big ship.

To his surprise, Umboo found other elephants there also, and from various parts of the ship came the smell of many different wild animals—camels, sacred cows from India, a rhinoceros, a buffalo and many strange beasts.

For this was a circus ship, and was bringing to America many strange birds and animals from the jungle.

"Now, Umboo, we are off!" said the circus man, as he came down to see the elephants and other creatures. "You are all going to start across the ocean in this big ship, and I hope none of you will be seasick."

Of course Umboo and the other elephants did not understand exactly what the man said, but they knew he was kind to them, for he gave them some food to eat and water to drink.

Pretty soon the ship began to pitch and toss and roll. It was out on the big ocean. The elephants did not so much mind the rolling motion, as they never stopped swaying themselves, and they were used to it, but some of the other animals had a bad time.

I wish I could tell you all that happened on board the ship, that was taking Umboo to the circus, but I have not room in this book. I'll tell you one thing that happened, though, and Umboo often used to laugh about it later.

One day, when the ship had been sailing about a week, a man came down in the hold, or stable where the elephants were. This man was a sort of joker. He liked to play tricks on animals and sometimes on his friends, and this time he thought he would play a trick on Umboo.

The man took a sour lemon, and plastered it all on the outside with some sticky brown sugar. This he held out to Umboo, saying:

"Here; have a nice, sweet lump!"

Of course Umboo thought it was all sugar, but when he chewed it, and found inside a sour lemon, it made tears come into his eyes, and he curled his trunk, and made such a funny, wrinkled face, that the man laughed and exclaimed:

"Oh, see how the elephant likes a lemon! Isn't that a funny trick!"

But I don't think it was a funny trick at all, and neither did Umboo. As soon as he could do so, he let the sour lemon drop out of his mouth into the straw on which he stood.

"Ha!" said the elephant next to Umboo. "If I could reach that man I'd tickle him with my trunk, and maybe pinch him, too."

"So would I," said Umboo. "But I can't reach him," and he could not, for the elephant was chained fast to the wall of the ship.

"But I'll know him when I see him again," exclaimed Umboo, "and the next time he comes near me maybe I can play a trick on him."

"I hope you can," said the other elephant.

And now you wait and see what happened.

The ship sailed on and on over the sea, each day coming nearer and nearer to America, which is the land of the circus. And Umboo and the other animals grew tired of being kept below decks, in the darkness. They wanted to get out into the sunshine.

Each day Umboo kept watch for the man who had given him the lemon in the lump of sugar, but the trick-player did not again come down where the elephants were.

And finally, one day, the circus man came down. He quietly rubbed the trunk of Umboo, patted him, and spoke kind words to him, feeding him good sugar.

"Now, my trick elephant," he said, "we will soon be going ashore, and we will see how you like a circus."



CHAPTER XIV

UMBOO IN THE CIRCUS

Many things happened to Umboo after he was taken out of the ship in which he had crossed the ocean. And there were so many of them that he could not remember all of them to tell his circus friends who were listening to his story.

"But did you get seasick?" asked Humpo, the camel. "That's what I want to know. Did you get seasick?"

"No, I did not," answered Umboo. "But I was tired of staying in the dark part of the ship so long. I wanted to get out in the sun. And I wanted to see if I could do that trick again, of taking the white rag from the man's pocket."

"And did you?" asked Snarlie, the tiger.

"I did, the first chance I had," answered Umboo. "But that was not until I had been off the ship for a day or so."

Umboo and the other animals were taken from the ship, and again put in railroad cars to be taken to a sort of training place. Wild animals, fresh from the jungle, are not taken at once to the circus. If they were the lions would roar, the tigers would snarl and the elephants would try to break loose and run away, and this would so scare the boys and girls who went to the circus that they would never come again.

So circus men first send the animals to a sort of training camp. There is one in Bridgeport, Conn., and another in New Jersey, on the Hackensack meadows. There the wild beasts are taken in charge, by men who know how to train them.

And it was to a place like this that Umboo was taken. It was not at all like a circus, except for the number of wild animals about. There was no big white tent; nothing but a sort of large barn, and there were no gay flags fluttering, and no bands playing music. All that would come later.

Umboo was chained in the middle of the barn, with the other elephants, and some hay was given him to eat. At first the elephant, who, not long before, had been wild in the jungle, and later piling teakwood logs, was uneasy and a bit frightened. So were his companions.

"But don't be afraid, Umboo," said the kind man who had come all the way from India with the elephant. "You will soon like it here, though you may not like being taught tricks. But you will like it when you can do funny things, and make the boys and girls laugh. Also, when you do your tricks well, you shall have lumps of sugar."

"Well, I hope there will be no lemons inside the lumps," said Umboo to Char, another big beast next to him.

"What is that about lemons in sugar?" asked Char.

"Oh, a man on the ship played a trick on me," answered Umboo. "I haven't seen him since, but I am on the lookout for him, and when I do see him, if I get near enough—well, I'll make him wish he hadn't fooled me."

"It was a mean trick," said Char. "I hope you find that man."

For a few days the elephants, and other wild jungle animals, who were to be tamed and taught to do things in the circus, were left to themselves. This was to get them quiet after their long trip, and to make them feel at home.

Umboo did not have to be tamed, for he was already kind and gentle. But some of the lions and tigers were fierce and wild, and they had to get to know that the circus men would not harm them. Most of the elephants, like Umboo, were no longer wild, but they knew nothing about being trained to do tricks. None of them could even so much as take a handkerchief out of a man's pocket, so really Umboo was one class ahead of them. But that did not make him proud.

One day, about a week after he had come to the circus-barn, Umboo saw some men coming toward him with ropes and other things. Among the men was the one from India, and this man Umboo liked.

"Now, Umboo" said this man, "you are going to learn a harder trick than that of taking a handkerchief from my pocket. You are going to learn to stand on your hind legs. It may seem hard to you at first, but it is easy when you know how, and you will like it. The boys and girls who come to the circus to see you, will like it, too, and you will get sugar if you do the trick well."

Of course Umboo did not know all that the man said to him, but he understood that something new was going on, and he reached out his trunk to touch his friend.

"I haven't any sugar for you now," said the man with a laugh, "but I may have some later. Let me see how you behave."

The men began putting ropes around Umboo's big neck. He did not mind this, for it had been done before, in India, when he was to pull a heavy wagon of teakwood logs. But this time it was different.

All of a sudden Umboo felt his front legs being lifted from the ground. His head and trunk went up in the air, and all his weight came on his hind legs. They were strong enough to bear it, but the elephant did not know what was going on.

"It's all right, my elephant friend!" said the man from India. "Up! Up! Stand up! Stand on your hind legs, Umboo!"

And Umboo had to do this whether he wanted to or not. The rope, on which the men were pulling, and which was fast to a hook in the ceiling of the barn over head, was lifting Umboo's front feet from the ground. This left him only his hind legs, and he had to stand on them whether he wanted to or not.

If you have ever tried to teach your dog to stand on his hind legs, you will know what was being done to Umboo. When you try to teach your dog this trick, you generally take him where he can stand up in a corner, so he can lean against the wall and will not fall over backwards or sideways; for that is what he feels like doing when you lift up his front legs.

But an elephant is so big, you see, that it would take a very large corner for him to back into. And he is so big and heavy that not even ten men could lift up his front legs. So they just hitch a rope around his head, and then men, hauling on the rope and pulleys, lift the front of the elephant, as men hoist up a piano.

"Ugh!" grunted Umboo through his trunk, as he felt his head and front legs going up. "What in the world is this?"

"Don't be afraid, my jungle friend," said an old big, tame elephant, who was kept in the circus barn just to make the others feel more at home. "Don't be afraid. You are only being taught the first of your tricks. I was taught the same way. It won't hurt you. Here, throw your weight on your back legs, and stand on them—this way."

And, to the surprise of Umboo, the other elephant, without the help of any ropes, reared himself up in the air and stood on his hind legs just as your dog can do.

"That's the way to do it!" said the trick elephant.

"I wonder if I can?" said Umboo.

"Try it," urged his new friend.

And when the man loosed the ropes, and let Umboo's front legs down, after they had hoisted them up once, he suddenly gave a little spring, and up he went, standing on his hind legs all by himself, and almost as good as the trick beast could do it.

"Well, I declare!" cried one of the men. "That elephant is the smartest one we ever trained. He does the trick after being shown just once!"

"Oh, yes, I knew he was smart when he did that handkerchief trick," said the man from India. "Umboo will be ready to join the circus before any of the others."

Once more Umboo was hoisted up by the ropes, but there was really no need for it. He knew what was wanted of him, and he did it.

"That's fine!" said the big elephant. "If you learn the other things as easily as you learned this trick, you will have no trouble."

"Are there other tricks to learn." asked Umboo.

"Oh, many of them," answered Wang, the best trick elephant in the circus. "You have only just begun."

And Umboo found that this was so. In the ten days that followed he was taught many more tricks. Some of them he did not learn so easily as he had the one of standing on his hind legs, and the ropes had to be used many times. But the other trick elephants, of whom there was more than one, showed the untrained ones what to do, and, in time, Umboo and his friends could go through many "stunts," as the circus men called them.

Umboo learned to lie down and "play dead," he learned to stand on a little stool, like an over-turned washtub, he learned to kneel down over a man stretched on the ground, and not crush him with the great body, weighing more than two tons of coal.

Other tricks, which Umboo learned, were to take pennies in his trunk, lift up a lid of a "bank," which was a big box, drop the pennies in and ring a bell, as if he had put money in a cash drawer. He also learned to turn the handle of a hand organ with his trunk, to ring a dinner bell, and do many other tricks, such as you have seen elephants do in a circus.

Then, one day, the man from India came where Umboo was, and giving him some peanuts, which our friend had learned to like very much, said:

"Well, now it is time you joined the circus. You know enough tricks to make a start, and your circus-trainer will teach you more. So off to the circus you go, Umboo! Off to the circus!"

And the next day Umboo went.



CHAPTER XV

UMBOO REMEMBERS

Brightly in the sun gleamed the white tents. In the wind the gay flags fluttered. Here and there were men selling pink lemonade and peanuts. Around the green grass were the big wagons—wagons that needed eight or ten horses to pull, wagons shining with gold and silver mirrors— heavy, rumbling wagons, which Umboo and the other elephants had to push out of the mud when the horses could not pull them.

"And so this is the circus, is it?" asked Umboo, as his friend, Wang, and he were led up to the tents.

"This is the circus," spoke Wang. "But I forgot. This is your first one; isn't it?"

"The very first," answered Umboo. "My! It's lots different from the barn where I learned my tricks, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, heaps different. It's more jolly," said Wang.

"And it's different from the jungle," went on Umboo.

"Oh, yes indeed! It isn't at all like the jungle," said Wang. "I remember the jungle very well. I always had to be sniffing here and there for danger, and often I had to drink muddy water, or else I went hungry. Here that never happens. All we have to do here is to perform our tricks, push a wagon out of the mud now and then, and eat and sleep. You'll like it here, Umboo."

"I'm sure I shall," he answered. "But what is that funny noise?"

"That is the music playing," answered Wang. "In the circus we do our tricks to band music. It's more fun that way."

Umboo liked the music, and there was one man who played a big horn— larger than himself, and the horn went: "Umph-umph!" just as Tusker used to trumpet through his trunk.

Umboo and the other elephants were taken into the animal tent, and placed around the outer ring, their legs chained to stakes driven in the ground. In cages were monkeys, lions, tigers and other beasts of the wood or jungle.

"Was it this circus of ours which you were first taken to, Umboo?" asked Humpo. "I came here about a year ago."

"No, it was not this one, but it was one like it," said the elephant. "I came here about a year ago."

"I remember that time," said Snarlie. "I liked you as soon as I saw you, Umboo."

"So did I," spoke Woo-Uff, the lion, stretching out his big paws.

"Let us hear the rest of Umboo's story," suggested Chako, the monkey. "Did you like the circus?"

"Indeed I did, very much," Umboo answered.

Then he told how he stood in the ring, and watched the boys and girls, and the men and women, come in to look at the animals before they went in the main tent, to sit down and watch the performers and animals do their tricks and "stunts."

Boys and girls, and some grown-folk, too, gave the elephants peanuts and bits of popcorn balls which the big fellows liked very much, indeed.

While Umboo was standing in line, with the other elephants, waiting until it was time for them to go in the big tent, and perform their tricks, such as standing on their hind legs and getting up on small barrels, our jungle friend saw a man coming toward him with a bag in his hand.

And, all at once Umboo remembered something. He looked sharply at the man and thought:

"Ha! There is the fellow who gave me the sour lemon inside the lump of sugar. Now is my chance to play a trick on him."

The man, with the bag in his hand, walked toward Umboo. To that man all elephants looked alike. He did not know he had ever seen this one before, and had played a mean trick on him. And the man said to another man who was with him:

"Watch me fool this elephant. I have an empty bag. I have blown it up full of wind, so that it looks like a bag of peanuts. I'll give it to this elephant and fool him."

"Maybe he'll bite you," said the other man, and the first one answered:

"Pooh! I'm not afraid. Watch me! I fooled an elephant once before. I gave him a lemon in some candy, and you should see the funny face he made. Ha! ha!"

"Ah, ha!" thought Umboo to himself. "He laughs, does he? Wait until I see what a funny face he is going to make."

The man held out the bag of wind to Umboo. But, instead of taking it, and getting fooled, the wise elephant suddenly dipped his trunk into a tub of water that stood near. Umboo sucked his trunk full of water and then, all at once, before the man knew what was going to happen, Umboo blew the water all over him.

"Whewiff!" went the water in the man's face, and all over his new suit, that he had put on to wear to the circus.

"Oh, my!" cried the man. "What happened?" and he spluttered and stuttered and gurgled. "What happened?" he asked, as he backed away and wiped the water from his face.

"I guess what happened," said the man who was with him, but who did not get wet, "was that the elephant played a trick on you, instead of you playing one on him. That's what happened!"

"I guess it did," said the man, whose windblown bag was all wet and flabby now. "But I don't see why he did it. I never fooled him before!"

"Maybe this is the same elephant you fooled with the lemon," said the second man.

"It couldn't be," spoke the wet one. "That was a long while ago, on a ship, and an elephant can't remember."

"But I did remember," said Umboo, as he told his story to his circus friends. "I could remember that man even now, if I saw him. And so I got even with him for giving me a lemon," and the big elephant laughed, until he shook all over like a bath-tub full of jelly.

"What happened after that?" asked Umboo.

"Oh, after that the man went out of the circus tent," said the elephant. "Everybody was laughing at him and the funny faces he made. But the water didn't hurt him much, and he soon dried for it was a hot day."

"And did you do your tricks in the circus?" asked Chako.

"Oh, yes, I went in the ring, and heard the music play. Then all us elephants stood on our hind legs, and I played the hand organ, rang a bell, put pennies in my bank and did many tricks. And one I did I liked best of all."

"What was that?" asked Horni, the rhinoceros.

"It was firing a little brass cannon," answered Umboo. "Some other elephants and myself played soldiers at war, and toward the end I had to pull a string with my trunk. In some way, I don't just know how, the string fired the cannon. None of the other elephants would do it. They were afraid, but I wasn't. I saw that the cannon wouldn't hurt me if I didn't get in front where its black mouth was, so I pulled the string. And when I did the cannon went 'Bang!' And the band played, and the big drum went 'Boom!' and the big horn went 'Umph-umph!' and the boys and girls yelled like anything. It was lots of fun!

"I liked that circus very much. I hope, someday, they'll let me shoot a cannon here."

"Maybe they will," said Woo-Uff, the lion. "I should like to hear it. But is that all your story, Umboo?"

"That is all, yes. I stayed with that circus for some time, and then was sold again, and as you all know, brought here. And I like it here very much, because you are all so kind to me. And I enjoyed listening to the story you told, Woo-Uff, and to Snarlie's story also."

"Well, we liked yours," said Chako, the monkey, as he hung by his tail and ate a peanut.

"Is there any one else who can tell a story?" asked Snarlie. "We will soon be traveling on again, but after that, when we settle down to rest, I should like to hear another tale."

"I can tell about my jungle," said Chako.

"We have had enough of jungles," said Woo-Uff. "Does any circus animal know any other kind of stories?"

"How would you like to hear one about the hot, sandy desert?" asked Humpo, the camel.

"That would be fine!" cried Umboo. "Tell us your story, Humpo!"

"I will," promised the camel. And, if all goes well, that story will be in the next Circus Animal Book; if you think you would like to read it. It will be called "Humpo, the Camel."

The elephants swayed to and fro, their leg-chains clanking in the tent. The monkeys chattered among themselves. Snarlie, the big, striped tiger yawned and stretched. Woo-Uff, the lion, laughed.

"Ha! I wonder what makes that lion so jolly?" said one of the circus keepers.

"Perhaps the elephant tickled him," suggested a second man.

"Maybe he had a funny dream," spoke another.

"Both wrong!" said Woo-Uff, in animal language that the other circus beasts could understand. "I was laughing at the way Umboo squirted water on the lemon-man."

"Yes, that was funny," said Umboo. "Very funny!" And he, too, laughed as he chewed his hay.

And, now that his story is finished, we will say good-bye to him and his friends for a while.

THE END.