the elephants of Africa, where I came from, are wilder, larger and
more fierce than those of India, where our friend Umboo used to live.
People hardly ever ride on an African elephant's back."

"Well, let us hear more of Umboo's story," suggested Humpo, the camel.
"It seems to me everyone is talking but him."

"That's so," spoke Horni, the rhinoceros. "Please go on, Umboo. Tell
us about how you were lost in the jungle."

So the big circus elephant, slowly swaying to and fro, and gently
clanking his chains, told more of his jungle story.

When he looked all around among the trees, which were dripping water
from the heavy rain, and when he could not see any of the other
elephants, Umboo felt very badly indeed. For animals, even those who
live in the jungle, get lonesome, the same as you boys and girls do
when you go away from home.

"Well, if I am lost," thought Umboo to himself, as he held the branch
of palm nuts, "I must see if I can not find the way home." For though
elephants have no real home, traveling as they do to and fro in the
jungle so much, Umboo called "home" the place where he had last seen
his mother and the rest of the herd.

Since Umboo could not see a long way through the trees, as he might
have done if he had eyes as sharp and bright as a big vulture bird, he
had to do what most elephants do--smell. So he raised his trunk in the
air, dropping the palm branch to the ground, and sniffed as hard as he
could. He wanted to smell the elephant smell--the odor that would come