The newspapers printed a great many letters from children, who offered their pocket-money, in sums from sixpence to three or five shillings, to buy Jumbo back again. They all wrote with the same idea, that Jumbo would be cruelly used, and would surely die, if he were taken away; but still it was quite clear that the little writers of these letters were not entirely unselfish in their grief, for they had a great deal to say about the nice rides they had already had, and still wished to have, on Jumbo's enormous back.
Older people went so far as to propose to raise money to pay back to Mr. Barnum the £2000 he had given for Jumbo, and perhaps £400 or £500 besides for his disappointment, but nothing more was said of this plan after Mr. Barnum telegraphed that £100,000 would not buy Jumbo back. As Mr. Scott, Jumbo's keeper, said to me, "Mr. Barnum understands his business," and it began to appear that the Zoo Society Council had not understood theirs. Every one who knows Mr. Barnum knows that he is exceedingly kind to animals, and that they thrive, are happy, and live long under his care.
But the English people are not so well acquainted with Mr. Barnum as they will be, perhaps, when Jumbo comes back to the English "Zoo"—as Mr. Barnum very kindly says that he may—and tells his own story. And, after all, it is only fair that Jumbo should try for himself the flavor of American buns, and find that the boys and girls of America are as pleasant to carry and as kind as their English cousins.
People old and young flocked daily to the "Zoo." They carried bags and baskets of buns, crackers, and sweetmeats, and everybody went straight to the elephant-house. Parrots, monkeys, pelicans, and lions were nowhere. On Ash-Wednesday (February 22), I went myself, and when I first entered the elephant-house I thought it must be all going to tumble down, I heard such a loud, startling noise. But it was only Alice, the elephant that they call Jumbo's wife, calling for food. The sound she made by gathering her breath in her cheeks, and blowing it forcibly through her long trunk, was much like that made by crashing both hands strongly down on the bass keys of a church organ when all the loud stops are on.
The greatest crowd was in front of Jumbo's cell. He did not call for food, but stretched his long and elastic trunk out in front of us just like a plate for pennies in church. When let out of the garden, he walked quietly with an even and slow step—which took him along so fast, though, that Scott had to run to keep up with him—until he came to the ladder where the children climb to mount him. The saddle, or howdah, as it is called, was put on his back, and more than a dozen boys and girls mounted, and away went Jumbo, stepping so slowly, but going fifteen feet at a step. Five times I saw him go down the promenade with his laughing load, and come back again to the ladder for a new supply, and each time he looked larger to me than ever. Then he went back with his keeper to his house, and I came away.
After Jumbo was sold, and the problem of moving him came to be considered, an effort was made to get him out of the Gardens and to the Millwall Docks on foot. He went along willingly enough, Scott leading him, until they reached the end of the "Zoo" grounds, but before going out into the road he tried it cautiously with his feet, and perceiving at once that it did not feel like the shingle paths in the "Zoo," he was afraid, and would go no farther.
Then a great box was made, which stood open at both ends. This was mounted on strong wheels, and was so placed in the garden gateway that when the elephants passed out from their own garden into the main grounds they had to walk through it. The wheels were sunk into the ground on a track, and the floor of the box was on a level with the ground. Alice walked through the box back and forth quite willingly, but for some days it was impossible to coax Jumbo to go into it.
Scott was asked to try whipping Jumbo, but he answered that he had never yet struck his favorite a blow, and he never should. In all other respects Jumbo was perfectly obedient and gentle, but he seemed to think that the box was a trap, and to know almost as well as everybody else that if he once went in, he might not come out. It was the intention to let him get used to the box by going through it, and then it was thought that when at last it was closed upon him he would not mind so much about it.
He was also put in chains, in order to accustom him to being fastened during the voyage. At first they were only put on in the mornings, but he made so much fuss and trouble about having them put on the last time, it was thought unwise to remove them again. They are cased in leather, so as not to fret him in the least. They were spread in loops, all over the floor of his cell, and men stood ready at different points to draw them up around him the moment he should place his feet within any of the loops; but the intelligent fellow managed to avoid them for some time.
But he grew tired at last, and began to thrash about with his trunk and ears, and Scott, who was in his cell with him, trying to persuade him, got suddenly pushed up against the wall by a backward movement of Jumbo's huge body. In a moment more he would have been crushed to death, but he had the presence of mind to call kindly to Jumbo, who understood, turned instantly, and released him. Jumbo then became quiet, and the chains were placed.