He would get his torch and wave it , and yell with the best . But the really good time came when the driving out began , and the Keddah -- that is , the stockade -- looked like a picture of the end of the world , and men had to make signs to one another , because they could not hear themselves speak . Then Little Toomai would climb up to the top of one of the quivering stockade posts , his sun-bleached brown hair flying loose all over his shoulders , and he looking like a goblin in the torch-light . And as soon as there was a lull you could hear his high-pitched yells of encouragement to Kala Nag , above the trumpeting and crashing , and snapping of ropes , and groans of the tethered elephants . `` Mael , mael , Kala Nag ! -LRB- Go on , go on , Black Snake ! -RRB- Dant do ! -LRB- Give him the tusk ! -RRB- Somalo ! Somalo ! -LRB- Careful , careful ! -RRB- Maro ! Mar ! -LRB- Hit him , hit him ! -RRB- Mind the post ! Arre ! Arre ! Hai ! Yai ! Kya-a-ah ! ''
he would shout , and the big fight between Kala Nag and the wild elephant would sway to and fro across the Keddah , and the old elephant catchers would wipe the sweat out of their eyes , and find time to nod to Little XXXXX wriggling with joy on the top of the posts .
Arre Dant Hai Kya-a-ah Mael Maro Nag Toomai goblin tusk