always is in the jungle.

Perhaps it was this steam, which was like a fog, rising all around
him, that puzzled Umboo. And most certainly he was puzzled, for, when
he had been walking quite a distance, he suddenly stopped and
listened.

"This is strange," he said to himself. "I don't hear any of the other
elephants. And I ought to be back with the herd now."

He listened more carefully, flapping his ears which were, by this
time, about as large as a baby's bath tub. They were still growing. To
and fro Umboo moved his ears, listening first one way and then the
other. He could hear the patter of the rain, and the chatter of a
monkey now and then, also the fluttering of the big jungle birds,
with, every little while, the rustle of a snake. But the elephant boy
could not hear the noise made by the other elephants.

"I guess I haven't walked far enough," he said to himself. "I must go
along through the jungle some more. But I did not think I came as far
as this when I was looking for a tree to knock over."

So, taking a tighter hold of the branch of palm nuts in his trunk, off
started Umboo again, splashing through the muddy puddles. He looked
this way and that, and he listened every now and then, stopping to do
this, for he made so much noise himself, as he hurried along, that he
could hear nothing else.

"Well, this is certainly funny!" thought Umboo, when he had stopped
and listened about ten times. "I can't hear any other elephants at