THE BASKET TRICK
When we discussed the Mango Tree trick, I commented unfavourably upon
the veracity of our friend Macpherson. Let me here state definitely
that there is no such person as far as I know, though the description
of the trick as I have given it, was related to me word for word in
the smoking room of an outward bound ship. It was capped by some one
saying that they had seen the tree grown without earth, on the deck of
a steamer on its way to Australia. I make no comment on this version
of the Mango Tree trick. There are many people who describe tricks to
me and ask how they could have been done. Some of these baffle all
explanation. They are so marvellous, that I am convinced that they
have never been done and could never be performed.
Such tricks as described to me are usually the fruit of a vivid
imagination, pure and simple. As an instance of this, I will relate an
incident that happened some time ago in Calcutta. I gave a performance
in a public place in which I did a billiard ball trick. In the trick,
the greatest number of billiard balls that I have at any one time in
my hands is two. Throughout the whole of the trick I use no more than
one red, two white, and two smaller white balls. Five in all. After
the performance, I was having a well earned drink, when a complete
stranger to me asked if I had seen "that chap who did the tricks." I
could truthfully answer "no" and did so. "He was an absolute marvel,"
said the stranger "there he was on the stage in evening dress with
both arms bared (I never bare my arms) and he produced the whole set
of pool balls, every single colour of them." This was said to me
within ten minutes of my having performed the trick, and the five
balls that I used had been exaggerated into sixteen or seventeen. I
forget how many balls are used at the game of Pool.
The French Police truthfully say that no two untrained persons can
describe accurately in detail a scene witnessed an hour previously. I
am sure that all our Indian judges can verify this statement. It can
be easily proved by any one of my readers trying with his friends. It
is this inability to accurately describe what has been seen that
assists the conjuror so much in deceiving his audience. It is this
inability which unfortunately results in rumours being spread of
wonderful performances being given by magicians in distant lands,
notably the Rope trick, with which I will deal later. Such rumours
and stories are started by persons who from bravado will swear that
they have seen this, that, and the other, in order generally to be the
centre of their astounded listeners.
A trick that is most frequently described is that known as the Basket
trick, which is in my opinion the chef d'oeuvre of the Indian
Jadoo-wallah. It is a wonderful bluff usually wonderfully shewn.
A perfectly good basket is placed on the ground. It is shewn to be
quite empty and devoid of any trap, false bottoms or other mechanism.
After a well conducted altercation with his assistant, a small boy,
the performer tells him to get into the basket. The boy attempts to do
so, but finds that it is too small to contain more than his feet and
legs doubled up. The Jadoo-wallah presses forward the little boy's
head and this leaves only his shoulders and back visible. A large
cloth of thick texture is then thrown over the little boy who is half
in and half out of the basket, and the lid is balanced on top of all.
A little more altercation ensues when the Maestro takes a big stick
and aims a mighty blow at the basket. As the blow falls the lid sinks
down on to the top of the basket, and a terrible silence is the
result.
The Jadoo-wallah realises that he has killed his assistant, and, if a
good showman, bewails his lot suitably. He then decides to get rid of
the body and, in some cases, to restore it to life again. In order to
show that a tune on the "bean" has the required effect of making the
body disappear, he lifts the lid of the basket and first with one foot
and then the other steps on to the cloth covering the basket and
presses it down to the bottom. There is nothing in the basket!
To further prove the emptiness of the basket he replaces the lid,
through the middle of which there is a hole, and through this hole
thrusts down in all directions a sword. Occasionally he thrusts it
through the sides. There is nothing in the basket. The body has
disappeared.
This ends the trick, though on occasions the performer orders the lad
to re-appear from the end of the garden, or elsewhere.
The collection is made, the basket is hitched up on the shoulder pole
and with his bag of tricks the Jadoo-wallah moves on to the next
bungalow. How can it be done?
[Illustration]
First let us note carefully the shape of the basket. It is oblong,
about two feet high with a bulge in all its sides, so that the bottom
of the basket is larger than the top.
When the boy gets into the basket he places both feet into it and sits
down, filling the basket thus:--
[Illustration]
When the performer pushes his head forward the boy gets into this
position:--
[Illustration]
The cloth is then thrown over all, the boy and the basket, and while
the lid is being placed on top, and the altercation continues, the boy
gets into this position, holding the basket lid up with one hand.
[Illustration]
The lid of the basket being held up like this causes the audience to
think that his former position is unaltered.
If one were to take away the cloth and look inside the basket one
would see the boy lying something like this.
[Illustration]
The performer takes away the lid which the boy has allowed to sink
into its proper place after the terrible blow with the big stick, and
to show the emptiness of the basket, puts his feet into the basket,
between the body and bent up legs of the boy, and sits down on top of
the assistant. By doing so he pushes the cloth down close on to the
boy.
He then gets out again, replaces the lid and thrusts the sword through
the hole in the lid twisting it in all directions. Were it not for the
thickness of the cloth, which is by now close to the body of the boy
by reason of the performer having pressed it down by sitting in the
basket, the sword would certainly hurt the little chap. Incidentally
the sword is none too sharp.
The sword is withdrawn and pushed through the sides, above the body of
the boy.
The basket is proved undeniably empty.
If my readers doubt this explanation, let them offer the Jadoo-wallah,
at this stage of the game, two thousand rupees to be allowed to fire a
No. 8 cartridge from a 12 bore gun from a range of thirty yards at the
empty basket. The performer will not accept the offer unless he values
the boy at less than two thousand rupees and has a good chance of
escaping arrest for murder. I have offered it twice with impunity.
The trick divides into two endings. One can always tell which ending
it will have by a glance at the basket. If it has two ropes which pass
underneath it, permanently attached, the betting is that the boy will
appear from the end of the garden. The reason of this is that after
the re-appearance of the boy--a duplicate of the one in the
basket--the permanent ropes on the basket allow it to be hitched up
on the shoulder pole and carried away, with the disappeared boy still
inside it. When the Jadoo-wallah gets round the corner, the little
assistant gets out while his impersonator goes a round about way into
the next compound ready to re-appear at the end of the next
performance of the trick.
If the basket has no ropes attached to it, odds are on the performance
ending by the magician apologising profusely to his Gods who restore
the boy from the depths of the basket again. The performer in this
case has no duplicate, and the trick if well presented is almost as
effective as the other, with the more elaborate ending.