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Refresh and try again. Toomai of the Elephants. Little Toomai slept for some time, and when he waked it was brilliant moonlight, and Kala Nag was still standing up with his ears cocked. For example, in “Toomai of the Elephants”, Little Toomai is the second youngest of a long line of mahouts, or elephant handlers, more specifically, the keepers of the 47-year-old elephant known as Kala Nag, or the Black Snake. He turned where he was lying all along on Pudmini's back and said, "What is that? Toomai of the Elephants is a short story by Rudyard Kipling about a young elephant-handler. Little Toomai was hanging eight feet up in the air, and he wished very much that he were eight feet underground. "Of that I have my doubts," said Petersen Sahib. First published in St Nicholas Magazine, December 1893, collected in The Jungle Book, 1894. Little Toomai lay back and slept all through the long afternoon and into the twilight, and while he slept Petersen Sahib and Machua Appa followed the track of the two elephants for fifteen miles across the hills. It is only your carelessness in driving. Machua Appa had no need to look twice at the clearing to see what had been done there, or to scratch with his toe in the packed, rammed earth. Hira Guj, Birchi Guj, Kuttar Guj, ahaa! Any story telling about a night of elephants dancing deserves four stars. One night he slid down from the post and slipped in between the elephants and threw up the loose end of a rope, which had dropped, to a driver who was trying to get a purchase on the leg of a kicking young calf (calves always give more trouble than full-grown animals). Little Toomai called out. Little Toomai could only count up to ten, and he counted again and again on his fingers till he lost count of the tens, and his head began to swim. But just like the humans do to the elephants in general in the story, this plot neglects Kala Nag's importance. What Little Toomai liked was to scramble up bridle paths that only an elephant could take; the dip into the valley below; the glimpses of the wild elephants browsing miles away; the rush of the frightened pig and peacock under Kala Nag's feet; the blinding warm rains, when all the hills and valleys smoked; the beautiful misty mornings when nobody knew where they would camp that night; the steady, cautious drive of the wild elephants, and the mad rush and blaze and hullabaloo of the last night's drive, when the elephants poured into the stockade like boulders in a landslide, found that they could not get out, and flung themselves at the heavy posts only to be driven back by yells and flaring torches and volleys of blank cartridge. and he shook his head. Little Toomai was frightened. Big Toomai prodded Kala Nag spitefully, for he was very angry, but Little Toomai was too happy to speak. Maro! The grass began to get squashy, and Kala Nag's feet sucked and squelched as he put them down, and the night mist at the bottom of the valley chilled Little Toomai. Little Toomai came in with a joyous tunk-a-tunk at the end of each verse, till he felt sleepy and stretched himself on the fodder at Kala Nag's side. "He throw a rope? The new elephants strained at their ropes, and squealed and trumpeted from time to time, and he could hear his mother in the camp hut putting his small brother to sleep with an old, old song about the great God Shiv, who once told all the animals what they should eat. Return to the The Jungle Book Summary Return to the Rudyard Kipling Library, The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett, Uncle Tom's Cabin - Harriet Beecher Stowe. Then the branches closed over his head again, and Kala Nag began to go down into the valley--not quietly this time, but as a runaway gun goes down a steep bank--in one rush. Little Toomai pattered after him, barefooted, down the road in the moonlight, calling under his breath, "Kala Nag! I am sick of rope and chain. At last there was no sound of any more elephants moving in the forest, and Kala Nag rolled out from his station between the trees and went into the middle of the crowd, clucking and gurgling, and all the elephants began to talk in their own tongue, and to move about. There was no tune and no words, but the thumping made him happy. I have seen it. He may have belonged to some little native king's establishment, fifty or sixty or a hundred miles away. This book was not satisfying to me. All things made he--Shiva the Preserver. It was first published in St Nicholas Magazine (December 1893) and reprinted in the collection of Kipling short stories, The Jungle Book (1894). Next morning he gave him a scolding and said, "Are not good brick elephant lines and a little tent carrying enough, that thou must needs go elephant catching on thy own account, little worthless? Arre! He did different assignments but in the end he worked on taming … What was Little Toomai called at the end of the story? He would get his torch and wave it, and yell with the best. Two hours later, as Petersen Sahib was eating early breakfast, his elephants, who had been double chained that night, began to trumpet, and Pudmini, mired to the shoulders, with Kala Nag, very footsore, shambled into the camp. Or else Petersen Sahib will surely catch thee and make thee a wild hunter--a follower of elephant's foot tracks, a jungle bear. Kala Nag! Ho! The worst that can happen. he said, at last, softly to his mother. "We have swept the hills! Hai! One new elephant had nearly grubbed up his picket, and Big Toomai took off Kala Nag's leg chain and shackled that elephant fore-foot to hind-foot, but slipped a loop of grass string round Kala Nag's leg, and told him to remember that he was tied fast. Kala Nag saw him, caught him in his trunk, and handed him up to Big Toomai, who slapped him then and there, and put him back on the post. He heard the click of tusks as they crossed other tusks by accident, and the dry rustle of trunks twined together, and the chafing of enormous sides and shoulders in the crowd, and the incessant flick and hissh of the great tails. By all the Gods of the Hills, these new elephants are possessed, or else they can smell their companions in the jungle." The huge limbs moved as steadily as pistons, eight feet to each stride, and the wrinkled skin of the elbow points rustled. "Oho!" Little Toomai is a fearless boy whose father—and grandfather before him—is an elephant driver for the government. "That thou shouldst never be one of these hill buffaloes of trackers. Make your salute to Toomai of the Elephants! If he had not found what he wanted, I believe he would have been ill. The next few days were spent in getting the elephants together, in walking the newly caught wild elephants up and down between a couple of tame ones to prevent them giving too much trouble on the downward march to the plains, and in taking stock of the blankets and ropes and things that had been worn out or lost in the forest. Kala Nag put Little Toomai down, and he bowed to the earth again and went away with his father, and gave the silver four-anna piece to his mother, who was nursing his baby brother, and they all were put up on Kala Nag's back, and the line of grunting, squealing elephants rolled down the hill path to the plains. This running up and down among the hills is not the best Government service. Anyways , I love rudyard kipling's books such as the jungle book and Rikki-tikki-tavi.

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