Then the keepers surrounded the beast, and swiftly and skilfully chained his two right feet together and otherwise bound him; and the danger was over.
Frank rushed from the brush to where Bob stood, pale as a sheet.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, anxiously.
“No; but I don’t want to go through any such experience again,” returned Bob. “That’s the first and last time I shall try to photograph an elephant.”
“The camera is teetotally smashed,” went on Frank.
“Serves you right,” growled the head keeper. “If you hadn’t pointed the thing at Jonco he would have been as quiet as a kitten. He don’t take to strange things.”
Frank was about to say something concerning the damages, and who was to stand them, but he changed his mind, for he knew the keeper was more than half right.
It was not long before the circus moved on again. Jonco still acted somewhat wildly, but the keepers kept him well in hand.
“This ends the camera trip,” said Frank, as the last of the equipage passed out of sight around a bend in the road. “The camera is good for kindling wood, and nothing else.”
“It is partly my fault,” said Bob. “What was the machine worth?”