them there was no hurry about the herd marching away. And two or three
days later Umboo had grown stronger and was not so wobbly on his legs.
He could run about a little, and once he even tried to bump his head
against another elephant boy, quite older than he was.

"Here! You mustn't do that!" cried his mother. "What trick are you up
to now?"

"Well, this elephant laughed at your tail," said Umboo. "He said it
was a little short one, and not long like his mother's!"

"Don't mind that!" said Mrs. Stumptail, with a sort of laugh away down
in her trunk. "All our family have short, or stumpy tails. That is how
we get our name. The Stumptail elephants are very stylish, let me tell
you."

"Oh, then it's all right," said Umboo, who was called by that name
because he had made that sort of noise or sound through his nose, when
he was a day old. And elephants and jungle folk are named for the sort
of noises they make, or for something they do, or look like, just as
Indians are named.

So Umboo played in the deep jungle forest with the other little
elephant boys and girls until his mother and father saw that he was
strong enough to walk well by himself.

"Now we will start on a long march!" called Tusker one day. "The
jungle here is well eaten, and, besides, it is no longer safe for us
here. So we will march."