Better Than Men

by Rush C. Hawkins

The old keeper used to say that Columbus “was full of odd whims and more given to mischief than malice.” When there was any hard work to be done, like lifting cage wagons out of the mud, or clearing roads of fallen trees, he was always ready to do his full share, and was never so happy as when actively engaged in some laborious occupation. Once in a while he would take it into his head that he would like a good run and an opportunity to indulge in mischief, such as uprooting trees, scattering fence rails, pulling off barn doors that happened to be standing open, etc. etc. It was his habit to signify his desire, after the “show was over,” by trumpeting nervously, dancing in his elephantine way, and tugging at his chain. These notifications did not come very often, but when they did, if not too inconvenient, his request was complied with. These calls never came just before the performance or while it was in progress. The mischief-loving old sinner was far too wise for that, for he had a most lively appreciation of the usual inflow of goodies from the boys and girls who were courageous enough to encounter the danger of “feeding the elephant.”

The last conversation I had with the successful old keeper, only a year before his death, was about his singular charge, and he insisted upon the truthfulness of his old theory—that the elephant was not naturally bad, but hated confinement, demanded kindness and consideration from those who were the visible instruments used in depriving him of his liberty, and, when he received neither, revenged himself by killing the tyrants who were depriving him of the freedom to which he was naturally entitled.

My old friend used to say: “It’s awfully hard lines for such a magnificent old beast as Columbus was to be tied up and deprived of liberty, and, if I had been in his place, I would have killed more fools of keepers than he did. Why, the old elephant was just as smart as any of us. He had thought the whole thing out for himself and put the boot on the right leg every time. He knew we’d no right to confine him the way we did, and made up his mind to be judge, jury, and executioner, and in his time he did a lot of killing. I don’t quite remember how many he made away with; some put it as high as ten, but I guess seven or eight would be about correct.

“When I was first asked to take charge of Columbus, I was in the business part of the ‘Show,’ and had never thought of becoming an elephant-driver. But somehow, without effort or knowing why, I got well acquainted with the old fellow, and, although often warned of his dangerous amusements, was never afraid of him.

“During the winter of 183- and 183- we were in quarters at C——. The confinement had been long and close, and during the whole winter Columbus had been restive and cross. When it came time to start out for the summer’s business no one could be found to drive him. So, as a last resort, the owners offered me a large salary for the job. I had no fear concerning the success of the undertaking, but hesitated about becoming a professional ‘elephant-man,’ but the big pay was a great temptation, and I yielded.

“The first few days after we started out upon the road, my charge was cross and cranky, and I had to watch him all the time as a cat would a mouse. Upon one occasion, when against my orders, just for the mere deviltry of the thing, he went out of his way to turn over a plantation cart that was standing by the roadside, I went for him savagely, with hook and spear, and gave him a big dose of something he didn’t want; he soon had enough, threw up his trunk, and yelled like a schoolboy being flogged.

“This submission proved to be his complete surrender to my will, and from that time we got on like a pair of loving brothers. We became strong friends, and I used to talk to the old rascal as I would to a human being. I have always believed he understood more than half I said to him.

“He became very fond of our morning race. It was the custom to start early in the morning—never later than four o’clock. When we would get fairly out of a village where we had exhibited the day before, I would ride up alongside and ask him if he would like a run, he would answer by throwing up his trunk, giving a trumpet sound of joy, and starting off at a stiff gait, keeping it up until I called a halt, and, if we happened to be near a stream deep enough to hold him, he would take to it, and stay until the rest of the show came up.

“No, I never had much difficulty in getting along with Columbus. From the start he found out I was not afraid of him, and that I would give it to him if he cut up any of his wicked capers; and he also came to understand that I was his indulgent friend who humored many of his harmless whims and treated him kindly.

“At the end of two years I was both glad and sorry to leave him. The watchful confinement had become irksome, and I was sure that as soon as I would leave him he would get into trouble,—which he did, and had a bad time of it to the end of his days. I have always felt kind of sorry for having put the knife through his ear, and never would have done it if I had not been excited and scart half out of my wits. If I had given my common sense half a chance, it would have told me that his lying down was a sign of recognition of authority, and that he was willing to throw up the sponge and behave himself. But I guess he forgave me, for, whenever afterwards I went near him, he would give me the old time friendly greeting.