The incident is an example of the deliberate purpose of many persons to take unfair advantage of the circus and illustrates how completely their nefarious plans sometimes go awry.
Trouble came unceasing that same day. The crowd was ugly and seeking fight, and some of its members even invaded the rings and insulted performers. We were told that night that ours was the only circus that ever left town without undergoing the annoyance of having the side ropes cut, a playful prank of the place. On the night journey from lot to cars, the hippopotamus cage tipped over and was righted with great difficulty, while the huge inmate roared his fright and disapproval. Later, the big vehicle conveying the side-show paraphernalia collapsed near the same spot and made more work and delay, and filled the roughs with glee at our plight. The colored “snack stand” proprietors, who, of course, are no part of the show, were robbed of their proceeds by native thieves, amid great wailing, and a colored man was killed by the cars in the confusion at the loading place. The circus men were the only witnesses to rush to him in the hope of giving relief. Never were men, women, and children happier over a change of scene than when our trains moved to new environments.
During the night run, a desperate attempt was made to rob the money wagon. Two men were busily working with brace and bit and hammer and saw, when the watchman, patrolling his lonely beat along the line of cars, came upon them. They jumped from the slow-moving train and escaped in the darkness.
The well-organized circus seldom misses a performance. Rain and mud are its enemies, but their combined endeavors only infrequently prevent erection of tents, and the parade and exhibition which then infallibly follow. There are instances in which the elements have upset plans for two or three successive days, but conditions are seldom so unkind. Shovel and pickaxe and beds of absorbing straw accomplish wonders. If denied the opportunity to erect the “big top,” sometimes the show is given in the less expansive menagerie tent and the animal cages are kept on the cars. The enforced arrangement is unsatisfactory to circus man and patron, but to the former it gives the consolation that the day will not be entirely without receipts.
The recuperative powers of the circus are marvellous. Many a show which has been almost entirely exterminated by a railroad wreck or other disaster has within a few weeks again taken up the thread of dates. The reason for this quick restoration is that duplicates of almost every necessity can be obtained. A hurry call brings a new tent to replace the damaged one. Men who make a business of supplying circus menageries with animals ship a great new variety at once, and in an incredibly short time the renewed show is on the move once more.
CHAPTER II
ARRIVAL AND DEBARKATION
Through the gloom of night and the dusk of early morning the heavy circus train labors on its journey to transient destination. The distance diminishes slowly. Sometimes the line of cars is shunted to one side and stands patient and inert while expresses clatter by; again, its dragging weight defies the straining efforts of the engine, and it is left in solitary helplessness while the iron horse scurries off for aid; often the cars are rattled together with body-racking violence. Farmers in the barnyards rub their eyes in mute astonishment at the moving spectacle, and cattle scamper from fright. Other trains are in hot pursuit. Their burden, too, is man and beast and varied showy paraphernalia. Four or five sections are required to transport the vast and wondrous effects of the circus.