His tail was continually in motion, and at intervals he uttered a piercing melancholy scream--far different to the usual trumpet-like bellow of his voice.

He lifted his huge limbs, and then plunged them back again to the bottom, until the foam gathered upon the water with his continued churning.
But the oddest of his actions was the manner in which he employed his long tubular trunk.

With this he sucked up vast volumes of water, and then pointing it backwards ejected the fluid over his back and shoulders, as if from an immense syringe.

This shower-bath he kept repeating time after time, though it was evident he was not at his ease.
They all knew he was angry.

Swartboy said it would be exceedingly dangerous to be seen by him at that moment, without having a horse to gallop out of his way.