There was a loud blare of trumpets and a vigorous beating of kettle-drums, while the spectators cheered heartily, as Cezardis turned somersaults, stood on his head, and played all sorts of pranks on the back and above the ears of the elephant.
The animals walked first leisurely and then more hurriedly around the ring. When the second round was completed, Cezardis boldly slid down the trunk of the leader, and with a graceful bow ran out of the way.
The keepers adroitly arranged the elephants in pairs, throwing a gourdful of capsicum into each mouth, in order to increase their pace.
“The race begins! Close thy bets!” shouted Cezardis.
The trainers of the animals used the goad unsparingly, and soon the huge mountains of flesh were stretching their tree-like legs to the utmost.
They trotted ponderously side by side for a few moments amid the clangor of bells, the deafening shouts of the multitude, and an ever-increasing tempo of music.
“Sven and Loke lead the first quarter!” yelled the judges.
“Their pace increases!” cried everybody, and the excitement was at fever heat when the elephants began to trumpet.
Before they reached the half-stake they were all galloping wildly, and the spectators were beginning to look at each other with blanched faces.
On the racing animals came round the turning-point, trumpeting and bellowing furiously. Every jump shook the ground under them like an earthquake, until the pavilion itself rocked like a ship at sea.