“The gnu or horned horse, did not take kindly to science. When one of the savants entered its cage it attacked him so savagely, that three keepers were obliged to go to his assistance. The animal showed a resistance of eleven thousand ohms and seemed paralyzed the moment the current was turned on. The small monkeys behaved very much like little children. The moment they felt the current they screamed and seemed to be undergoing agony. When the wires were removed, they appeared puzzled and three of them took up the electrodes as if to study them. A large blue monkey was so interested that when released he seized the large sponge and began to tear it apart as if to see what it contained that hurt him so. The monkeys offered a resistance of from five thousand to seven thousand ohms. The hippopotamus and sea lion took the full force of the current without wincing; but a dog, after having a moderate current passed through his brain, showed signs of hydrophobia and had to be killed. The wild carnivora showed much sensitiveness to the electric current, manifesting every symptom of rage and distress when only a single cell was employed. A wolf to which a mild current was applied, stood upon its haunches and cried piteously.
“But the elephants proved the star attractions. They actually enjoyed the sensation in every instance, except when a strong current was passed through the trunk. When only a few cells were employed, the huge beasts did not seem to observe the fact, but when the full battery was employed, they rubbed their legs together, caressed savant and keeper alike and squealed their pleasure. No odder sight was ever seen than an elephant with mouth wide open, with one scientist holding a sponge to the huge tongue and a second another to the root of his tail, and manifesting every sign of glee.
“The manner in which animals endure pain always awakens our sympathies. Horses in battle are a striking example of power of endurance and unyielding courage. After the first stinging pain of the wound, they make no sound, but bear their agony with mute, wondering endurance. Elephants also suffer agonies without flinching. When they are shot in a vital spot they sink down on the ground with a low cry, and silently pass away. A dog will go for days with a broken leg without complaint, and a wounded cat will crawl to some quiet place and brood silently over agonies which humans could not endure. A stricken deer will go to some thick wood and there in pitiful submission await the end. Lions, tigers and other beasts will do the same. Seldom do they give utterance to cries of pain. Cattle will meet the thrust of the butcher’s knife without a sound, and a wild dove, with shot from a hunter’s gun burning in its tender flesh, will fly to some high bough or lie on the ground to die, and no sound will be heard save the dripping of its life blood upon the leaves. The eagle, stricken high in air, will struggle to the last, but there will be no sound of pain, and the proud defiant look will not leave the eyes until the lids close over them and shut out the sunlight they love so well.”
Sunday is fast-day in the menagerie tent, and every occupant, caged or uncaged, knows when the day arrives. When the week-day feeding hour—five o’clock in the afternoon—approaches, not one of the animals betrays the feeling of eager desire on Sunday which characterizes them all the other six days. They understand instinctively that there will be no meal. Then on Monday the “cat” animals begin to pace their cages nervously and peer through the bars awaiting the coming of the keepers. They are well aware that liver, which they relish keenly and which keeps them in good physical condition, will be the food. The Sunday abstinence is deemed by the trainers an aid to good health, as copying to some extent the habit of beasts in their native haunts, where food is not obtainable every day. There is little sickness in the menagerie. The animals are studied closely and given assiduous attention if the slightest indisposition is manifested.
CHAPTER VIII
LIFE WITH THE PERFORMERS
The art of seating the audience in the big tent plays a prominent part in the receipts of the day. “Fill the highest rows first,” is the instruction forced upon each usher, and censure or dismissal is the penalty of disobedience. By skilful and systematic arrangement of the crowds, it is possible to utilize every inch of seating space in the vast enclosure. Indifferent or careless performance of the duty leaves the tent, to the casual observer, packed to completion, but in reality here and there are spots not occupied. Hence all ingenuity must be brought to bear to prevent this condition and its consequent financial loss, for the sale of tickets stops when no more seats are available. Sometimes a prosperous day has not been confidently expected and the management orders a four- instead of the usual five-centre-pole tent raised. The difference in seating capacity is several hundred. Then, but not often, for circus foresight is keen, people flock to the lot in thousands and there is no room for their accommodation. The owner is shame and mortification personified.
On the hippodrome track one of the clowns, clad in sober black and looking to be all he represents, waits with imitation camera and tripod for victims. He is an experienced master of human nature. With exaggerated politeness and scrupulous care of detail he poses unsuspecting new-comers, to the boisterous amusement of those already seated. Sweethearts stand in affectionate attitude, mightily pleased and unsuspecting, while he pretends to impress their likeness upon photographic plates. Sometimes he turns their faces from him, tells them not to move until instructed, and then moves quietly away. Very infrequently they take the joke seriously. When anger and retaliation are manifested, he is agile enough to escape punishment.
A boy sings on the topmost seats. His voice is powerful, but pure and sweet, and the tent is filled with the sounds of approval when he finishes. The musical director discovered him in Rochester, N. Y., and has great hopes for his professional future.