He knew the men were his friends.
And so he who had once been a wild baby elephant, grew to be a tame,
big strong beast, who could carry heavy teakwood logs on his tusks,
and pile them in great heaps near the river, where they were loaded
upon great ships. Umboo did not know the boats were ships, but they
were, and soon he was to have a ride in one. But I have not reached
that part of his story yet.
Sometimes, instead of being made to pile the logs in the lumber yard,
Umboo would be taken into the forest, where the Indians cut the trees
down. The forest was something like the jungle where the boy elephant
had once lived with Tusker and the others, and where he had played,
and once been lost.
In the forest were great trees of teakwood and these the elephant
workers had to drag out so they could be loaded upon carts, with great
wooden wheels, and brought to the river. One day Umboo and Keedah were
taken together to the teak forest.
"Now is our chance, Umboo," said the other elephant after a while as
they went farther and farther into the woods. "Now is our chance!"
"Our chance for what?" asked Umboo, speaking in elephant talk, of
course, and which the Indian keepers did not always understand.
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