to your mother, elephant boy."

Then the snake glided away through the jungle, and, watching the end
of her tail vanish under a bush, Umboo started off by himself. He had
not heard the sounds spoken of by the serpent, but he knew the noises
were such as a herd of elephants would make.

"She must have good ears, to hear what she heard," thought the
elephant boy. "And yet her ears were not as large as mine."

So, flapping his own big ears, and wishing he could hear with them as
well as the snake could with her small ones, Umboo stalked on through
the jungle in the way she had told him to go.

It was not very long before he heard a crashing sound. Then he lifted
his trunk, still holding the palm branch, and he sniffed and snuffed.
And then, to the long, rubbery nose of the elephant boy, came the wild
smell of other jungle animals.

"Ah! Now I smell the herd!" he cried. "Now I am not lost any more!
Hurray!"

Of course when an elephant says "Hurray" it is different than the way
you boys and girls say it. But it means the same thing.

On hurried Umboo. The crashing noises sounded more plainly now, and
the elephant smell became stronger. Then, as he burst his way through
the bushes, Umboo saw the other elephants standing together in a
little clearing in the jungle, and Umboo's mother seemed to be talking
to them.