Jumbo has arrived. Two weeks ago there was published in YOUNG PEOPLE an
account of his departure from England by a lady who knew him very well,
and who was very familiar with his doings during his last days on
English soil.
Now we have the great elephant with us, safe at the Hippodrome, under
Mr. Barnum's care, and where thousands of American children can make his
acquaintance, and find out what made him such a wonderful favorite on
the other side of the ocean.
Jumbo had a great time crossing the sea. A big elephant is a very
awkward passenger when he travels by water. He weighs so much that he
must be kept in the centre of the ship, and he must be fastened so
securely that he can not possibly break loose. Jumbo made the passage in
the same box in which he was drawn eight miles from the Zoological
Gardens in London to the dock where the great steamer that was to carry
him to America lay.
This box was made as strong as oak and iron could make it, and was
provided with openings in the front, through which Jumbo could stretch
out his trunk to receive his food and drink. Jumbo's cage was only a
trifle smaller than the main hatchway of the steamer, and yet it fitted
him almost as closely as if it had been an Ulster overcoat. Being wedged
closely into the hatchway, the box could not be moved by the rolling or
pitching of the ship, and Jumbo, being packed tightly in the box, could
not bruise himself. Thus he was as well situated as a sea-faring
elephant could expect to be.
Jumbo did not like the sea, particularly when he was seasick. When we
remember how seasick a child weighing sixty pounds often is at sea, we
can understand how tremendously seasick an elephant weighing six tons
can be. For the first two or three days of the passage Jumbo suffered
greatly from seasickness. He lost his appetite. He frequently sighed
like a small earthquake, and he tried to get rid of his headache by
beating his head against the front of his box. This remedy seemed to
help him, for on the third day he began to get better, and made a light
breakfast of two hundred pounds of hay, two bushels of oats, a bushel of
biscuits, fifteen loaves of bread, twenty buckets of water, and a few
trifles, and in a few hours he felt well enough to receive visits from
the passengers.
Two keepers--Mr. Scott, who has been with Jumbo seventeen years in
England, and one whom Mr. Barnum had sent over from New York--were with
him constantly while at sea, taking turns in sitting up with him at
night, so that he need never feel lonesome. Lamps were also kept burning
in front of him all night, in case he should want to read, and far more
care was taken of him in every way than of any other passenger. Most of
the time he was amiable, and conducted himself in a way to win the
approbation of everybody. Once, however, he became very ill-tempered,
and his keepers could not please him, no matter what they did. Finally
they brought some little children to him. The sight of them reminded
Jumbo of his happy life in the Zoological Gardens, where he was
accustomed to carry children on his back. The ill-temper vanished, and
he became once more the gentle beast that he had been before he was
forced to go to sea.
In spite of his general amiability, Jumbo does not like to be treated
with disrespect. One of the sailors of the vessel found this out. The
man was washing his clothes near Jumbo's box, and he rudely slapped the
elephant's trunk to make him move it out of the way. This was, in
Jumbo's opinion, an outrage which no gentleman would offer to a
respectable elephant, and he determined to resent it. Presently the man
went away, leaving his clean clothes within Jumbo's reach. The latter
instantly seized them, wiped the deck with them until they were far
blacker than before they had been washed, and with a sweet smile, handed
them back to the astonished sailor.
The great ship, the _Assyrian Monarch_, arrived at New York on the
morning of Easter Sunday. An immense floating derrick was brought
alongside of the vessel, and heavy chains being made fast to the
elephant's box, it was hoisted out of the ship, and lowered to the deck
of a big lighter. Jumbo strongly disapproved of this proceeding, and
mentioned it loudly. It was his opinion that the chains would break
while the box was in the air, and that he would get a terrible fall. In
this he proved to be mistaken, for he was brought without accident to
Pier No. 1, North River, which, being built of stone and iron, was
strong enough to bear his weight, and there he was landed.
It was nearly nine o'clock in the evening by the time that everything
was ready for a start. Eight horses were harnessed to the box, which,
with Jumbo, weighed over twelve tons, and long ropes were fastened to
the axles, so that men could assist the horses in dragging the enormous
load. Each rope was about two hundred feet long, and at least five
hundred people took hold of them. The horses and the men made a
tremendous effort, but after they had pulled the box about three feet,
the wheels sank into the ground, and it could not be stirred. Mr. Barnum
then sent to the Madison Square Garden for two elephants. He proposed to
take Jumbo out of his box, and to introduce him to the two elephants,
hoping that he would accept their invitation to take a stroll up
Broadway with them, and to stop at their hotel--as they would politely
call the Madison Square Garden.
Before the elephants arrived, eight more horses were harnessed to the
box; it was pried out of the mud, and started slowly on its way. At the
Bowling Green the two elephants from Madison Square Garden were met, and
welcomed Jumbo with enthusiastic "trumpetings," to which he courteously
replied. Two or three times the box came to a stop while on the way up
Broadway, but the horses and men pulled and the two elephants pushed
until it was in motion again. It was after midnight when the Madison
Square Garden was reached, and then it was found that the box was so big
it would not go through the doors. So poor Jumbo had to pass the night
in the street.
On Monday, however, he was safely installed in his new home. He has not
mentioned how he likes this new continent, or the strange people among
whom he has come; but considering the attention he receives, and the
dainties fed him by thousands of admiring little folks, he ought to be a
serene and satisfied elephant.