Umboo. "My friends, the African elephants, are much larger than I am,
and they are wilder and fiercer, and so they are hardly every caught
for the circus."

"I remember a great big elephant in a circus I was once with--not this
one, though," said Humpo, the camel. "His name was Jug--no it was not
Jug, and it wasn't Jig, but it began with a J."

"Maybe it was Jumbo," suggested Umboo.

"That was it--Jumbo!" cried Humpo. "He was a very big elephant."

"Yes, I guess he was," said Umboo. "I have heard of him, but I never
saw him. He was an African elephant, and they are all large. Poor
Jumbo!"

"Why do you say that?" asked Chako the monkey. "Poor Jumbo?"

"Because he is dead," said Umboo. "Poor Jumbo was struck by one of
those big puffing animals, of steam and steel and iron, that pull our
circus train over the shiny rails."

"You mean a choo-choo-locomotive-steam-engine," said Woo-Uff, the
lion.

"I suppose that is the name," said Umboo. "Anyhow, Jumbo was hit by an
engine, and, big as he was, it killed him. His bones, or skeleton, are
in a museum in New York now."

"Is New York a jungle?" asked Gink, who had not been with the circus