I meant to say before this that Jumbo heartily hates and abominates rats, and it is no wonder, for when he was young and weak, after coming to my care, he was almost devoured by them. Very often in the dead of night I have been awakened by poor Jumbo’s groans, as if in pain and trouble, and, when I hastened to see what was the matter, I have beheld the rats by hundreds gnawing his hoofs, and snapping viciously at his legs and tail. In my rage, I have often, with the aid of my good short stick, and by the light of a bull’s-eye lantern, slaughtered them by the score. This method I found did not check them. So I put my inventive faculties to work, and made a peculiar, though simple, trap that soon cleaned out the rodents. Jumbo really seemed to thank me for the deliverance, judging by his affectionate antics.
CHAPTER X.
ACCIDENTS CAUSED HIS KEEPER BY JUMBO; ALSO, HOW HE SAVED HIS KEEPER’S LIFE.
Once after arriving at Jersey City from the West on the steam cars, from which place we were about to go by float to Brooklyn, we had to be shunted off the main line onto a switch to let the mail train pass. I was in Jumbo’s car, and he was standing up, I was on the off side from the train, about the middle of Jumbo’s body, when up came the puffing locomotive, snorting and whistling, rushing past from behind, and as Jumbo could not turn around in his car to see what was up, he just gave one lurch from the train side when the steam went through the grating of his car, and came over, catching me quite tightly between his side and the side of the car. He gave me such a squeeze that I don’t want any more like it. I have always been on my guard ever since. I was slightly hurt, but it was not of much consequence.
This occurred at first when we commenced riding in steam cars, a thing Jumbo and I were not used to.
Jumbo was awfully sorry, and grieved over my absence like a little girl left without its mamma in the company of strangers.
On our way from the city of New York, going down to the boat, Jumbo somehow or other put his forefoot down on my big toe and smashed it. I am inclined to think it was my own fault, as I was gazing about me, admiring the immense crowds that were swaying to and fro on each side of us, hardly leaving room to walk, and I suppose my attention being for the moment engaged I probably put my toe under his foot. He couldn’t say, “you should put your feet in your pocket,” but he looked awfully annoyed at himself as he saw me limping along, and, when I looked up at him, his eyes said more than an ample apology from a human being.
Last year in our winter quarters I was busy making Jumbo’s bed, when he, trying to move around so that I could fix things nice, gave a tug at the immense cable by which he is chained to the earth, a tug that cut my shin bone. I thought for the moment my leg was broken, but it turned out merely a severe gash, which did not necessitate my leaving him.
On this occasion Jumbo turned round on hearing my exclamation of pain, and as much as said, “What’s up now?” Jumbo knew he had not touched me, and of course he never saw the chain strike me, as he had his back to me.