The Memoirs of a White Elephant

First, I tossed the rings; then a target was placed, and I stood before it, with a basket of balls beside me. I picked up the balls with my trunk, and threw them at the target – and I believe I never missed.

The target being removed, a huge ball of iron was brought to me, and I stood upon it with my four feet, balancing myself, and moving slowly forward. This exercise fatigued me excessively; so, to afford me a rest, I was made to play a Dramatic Scene.

A young King and a beautiful young Queen were supposed to be travelling happily in the country. All at once sounds of the hunt are heard; I appear – chased by horsemen; the young King and Queen try in terror to hide themselves; I pretend to be enraged, and run furiously two or three times round the Circus. Then I see the Queen, and rush towards her. Then, in the Scene as originally composed by Moukounj – (for my master had become an author, in order to increase the brilliancy of my theatrical career), the King should strive to protect the Queen with his person, draw his sword, and bury it in my breast, and I should fall, apparently dead. The sword, of course, had a blade of tin, which slipped up inside the handle. But this finale was changed by me after the first evening.

It was Miss Nightingale who played the young Queen. She was most lovely in this part, with a robe of delicate white gauze under which glistened a tunic of mauve silk. And when I saw her, looking so beautiful, the memory of Parvati, which never left me, came over me more vividly and tenderly than ever before; so that, instead of rushing violently upon her, I stopped; and then came forward slowly, and humbly and submissively – knelt at her feet! The audience applauded tremendously, and it was decided to retain this denouement for the Scene hereafter.

After this, I made the circle of the Ring five times on a Bicycle, an enormous Bicycle built for my stature. (You can imagine with what difficulty an elephant could balance himself on such a machine!) I worked the pedals with my forefeet and steered with my trunk.

Next, I had to stand up and dance a Polka; and, finally, I had to play another Dramatic Scene – a Comedy, composed by Mr. Oldham.

They brought into the middle of the Circus a Table and a Chair of the proper size for me. Then a couple of uprights, between which hung a bell, with a cord attached.

I entered, sat down in the chair, and with my trunk pulled the bell-cord. Instantly, Mr. Oldham, dressed like a Waiter, ran in. I made him understand that I wished my dinner.

"Yes, Mr. Elephant – it will be ready immediately!"

He went out. Then I drew from a bag fastened around my waist a pair of enormous spectacles, and put them on. Then I took a news-paper and pretended to read – (though at that time I did not really know how to read!) After a while, as Mr. Oldham did not return, I pretended to grow impatient, and rang again, and Mr. Oldham ran in:

"Yes, Mr. Elephant… Your dinner will be ready in a few minutes!"

Twice more I rang, and twice Mr. Oldham ran in and repeated the same thing, "Yes, Mr. Elephant, your dinner will be ready in a few minutes" – without bringing me anything. The third time he brought me merely one dish, which contained nothing but a few rolls, and I swallowed them in one mouthful.

I rang again and Mr. Oldham appeared; I signified that I wished something more. After a long while he brought me a second dish, with a few vegetables, which I ate up as quickly as the first. I ordered another dish, and this time he brought me fruits, cakes, and a bottle of Champagne, which I popped loudly!

I now rang for the last time, and signed that I desired my bill. Without waiting a moment this time, Mr. Oldham brought me an enormously long piece of paper. I put on my spectacles, having taken them off to eat. I looked at the bill, and gave a deep roar of indignation. Mr. Oldham fell to the ground as if terror-stricken, and bounded up again:

"What is the matter, Mr. Elephant?"

I expressed my displeasure by tearing the bill, and getting up and stamping on it.

"You think it is too much?"

I made a sign that I did.

"But you must pay it!"

I signified that I would not.

"What! You will not pay me?"

I continued to signify "No."

"Very well! Mr. Elephant, we will see about that!" and he called out:

"Hi! there! Police! Police!"

Then entered Mr. Trick and Mr. Trock, dressed as Policemen.

"Policemen!" said Mr. Oldham, "here is Mr. Elephant who refuses to pay my bill!"

"Oh, very well! we will arrest you, Mr. Elephant, and take you to the Station House," said Mr. Trick.

"Yes! Off with him to the Station House!" said Mr. Trock.

At this threat I appeared to be very much agitated, and, using my trunk, I drew out of my bag a number of imitation bank notes, which I threw down on the table – and went hastily out, while Mr. Oldham performed an extravagant and burlesque dance of triumph with Mr. Trick and Mr. Trock…

This scene always delighted the public, who invariably encored me two or three times. But I felt humiliated at playing the part of a buffoon, and making a clown of myself.

I lived in this way for several years; when the receipts fell off in any city, Mr. Hardwick took us to another. We went from Calcutta to Chandernagor, from Chandernagor to Patna; then I saw Benares, Alahabad, Delhi, and other places.

I need not have been very unhappy. I had made myself respected by those who at first attempted to tease me. Mr. Oldham was proud of his pupil and loved me; Moukounj was always the same good, kind fellow who had received me; and my four friends, Miss Annie, who, I had occasionally protected from her mother's violence, Circé Nightingale, Miss Sarah Skipton, and Miss Clara Morley were always kind and spoiled me incessantly.

But, alas! I thought constantly of my beautiful life of other days – so calm – so happy; and I thought of Parvati, who perhaps was sad and ill-treated, and whom I might have defended. Had she forgotten me? Or, if she thought of me, must she not accuse me of ingratitude? And, had I not been indeed ungrateful, to leave her as I did, because of a wicked jealousy?..

So, in spite of all the kindness by which I was surrounded, I was very, very sad.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE RETURN TO PARADISE

One day the "Grand Circus of the Two Worlds" arrived at Bombay. I was by this time at the end of my endurance – overwhelmed by mortification…

I, the "King-Magnanimous," before whom a whole nation had prostrated itself – I, the fierce warrior, who had shed the blood of the enemy, restored a King to his throne, and had been the loved companion of the most beautiful of Princesses – to be reduced to exhibiting myself in-grotesque parades to astonish and amuse the public!..

Ah! how hard life seemed to me! How lonely I felt among these new companions, in spite of their kind treatment of me!

As I was never to see Parvati again – never return to my lost paradise – why should I prolong my sufferings?

I determined to once more go away, and to seek in the depths of the wild forests the elephants' Burial Place, and there let myself die of hunger, among the whitening bones of my mates.

Yes, this evening's performance should be the last.

When all would be asleep, I would quit my wooden shed; I would swim across the narrow channel that separates the island of Bombay from the main land, and go to find the resting-place where all my griefs would die with me.

I was so preoccupied with the resolve I had taken, and the thoughts it awakened, that I paid little attention to the extraordinary activity which reigned that evening among the artists of the "Grand Circus of the Two Worlds."

Costumes were being repaired, the accessories furbished up; familiar acts were being rehearsed with an altogether unusual care; and they were even sewing in great haste a gold fringe onto a drapery of red velvet – for what purpose I could not imagine.

The performance began much later than usual. It was delayed as much as possible, in spite of the impatient stampings of the public.

When I entered the Ring I saw, facing the entrance, a great space separated from the rest by railings painted red; the front of this improvised box was covered by a drapery of red velvet fringed with gold, and ornamented with the Arms of England, and garlands of flowers. Arm chairs were placed inside.

I knew at once that they expected some distinguished person; but he had not yet arrived, for the box was empty, and made a great dark gap in the midst of the other seats, which were all filled to overflowing by a brilliant audience, gaily dressed.

Mr. Oldham had been obliged, unwillingly, to begin my performance, and I was engaged in balancing on the Rolling Ball, when a general movement of the audience led me to know that the illustrious Personage had arrived.

Being careful not to lose my balance, it was impossible to look up to see who it might be:

"It is most likely the President of Bombay," thought I, and I cared nothing to see him.

But all at once the Ball rolled out from under my feet, I lost my balance, and fell on my knees… A woman's voice had cried:

"Iravata!"

Who could call my name of other days?.. my name of happiness? And the voice – that voice so sweet and musical, which penetrated me like a sword, cast me onto my knees, and sent all the blood to my heart!.. It could be no voice but hers – her own voice! I was sure of it, and yet I dared not look – it seemed as if mistaken I should die!

The audience, surprised and respectful, kept perfectly still; and the voice, grown sad this time, spoke again:

"Have you forgotten me altogether, Iravata?"

In one bound I was on my feet, and before the box, which was just my height, and through tears of joy I beheld Parvati, as if through flames of fire… She caressed me – kissed me – caring nothing for the crowds who looked on in amazement… And I! no human being, even, could have expressed what I felt, and I was more than ever ashamed of the hoarse cries, and the stampings that were the only means I possessed of expressing a joy that took my breath away.

"Ah! Iravata – Iravata!" said she in a low voice, close to my ear: "Thou couldst leave me at such a trying time in my life?.. I saw well enough that thou didst not give thy consent to my marriage; no doubt thou hadst read the soul of the Prince – and it did not please thee! Thy wisdom certainly saw his nature clearly; but thou shouldst have done as I did – resign thyself, and submit to fate, instead of abandoning me – ungrateful as thou wert – because of jealousy? I knew thou wert jealous – and I read the death of the Prince in thy looks of rage! If it was to avoid committing a crime that thou didst leave Golconda, I must forgive thee, in spite of the pain thou hast caused me. Thou mayest return now – for the Prince is no more!"

What I did on hearing these happy tidings was certainly not proper, for I have been instructed that it is not right to rejoice at the death of any one … but I could not help it! I ran three times round the ring at the top of my speed, and trumpeted so loudly that the Audience fled in terror!

The Prince Alemguir and Saphire-of-Heaven were in the box, but I had not seen them at first, so blinded was I by tears.

They had sent for the Director of the Circus, and I now understood they were speaking to him of my ransom.

He showed himself very modest and dignified in the presence of the King and Queen of Golconda, and declared with great frankness that he did not own me, but had only engaged me with my actual master, and that I had so increased the profits of the company that he owed much to me, while nothing whatever was owing to him.

It was, therefore, as a gracious present that he accepted, after many protestations, the magnificent diamond which the King offered him, and a very handsome sum for distribution among the actors of the troupe.

Moukounj now approached, and I made the Princess understand that I did not wish him to be left behind. He conducted himself as well as he knew how, and they did not perceive that he was, as usual – drunk. It was agreed that he should go with us to Golconda.

All the Artists, in stage costume, were now assembled in the Ring.

I bade them good-bye as cordially as I could… But already they seemed far, far away – as if forgotten, and veiled in mists and darkness…

I had once more found my Light – my Life! I could not see nor think of anything else! And while the Champagne corks popped, and the glasses clinked in my honour, it was as if in a dream that I left forever the "Grand Circus of the Two Worlds" – absorbed in the great happiness of feeling once more on my neck the light weight of my beloved Princess, regained at last.

THE END