In those days our menagerie was exhibited in the same tent used for our
circus performance, the seats being arranged on one side and the animal
cages on the other. Imagine the scene! Several thousand terrorized and
screaming men, women and children rushed wildly in all directions, the
combustible tents and paraphernalia were in flames, and above all could
be heard the roar of the terror-stricken animals, beating madly against
their iron bars. Two of the largest dens had been placed together and
the partition bars withdrawn, so as to form one big cage, wherein the
lions and tigers were exercised by their keepers. The fire burned the
woodwork so that this double cage came apart and liberated the
ferocious animals. These lions and tigers escaped among the people and
added a new element to the general pandemonium of terror. Words cannot
convey an adequate idea of that awful moment.
As the tents and cages slowly burned out, total darkness came upon us.
In the excitement, one of the men in the audience happened to jump on a
crouching lion and yelled that he was in the clutches of the beast;
however, the animal was as thoroughly frightened as the man. Some of
the animals were loose all night, and one Royal Bengal tiger
disappeared altogether. No trace whatever was found of his remains when
the debris was examined, and he probably escaped to the nearest woods.
Near to the tent was one of those prickly osage hedges, and into this
hundreds of people ran, becoming so entangled in the thorny network
that it was almost impossible for them to extricate themselves. Many
were badly lacerated by the brambles. There was no sleep in Council
Bluffs that night.
Several of our wagons disappeared and one carriage was never afterward
found. Four or five horses were lifted and blown into a lot some
distance from where they had been stabled. To add still further to the
misery that prevailed, the catastrophe ended with a cloud-burst and the
earth was fairly deluged, so that in a short time what little remained
undestroyed by wind and flame was floating around in a sea of water.
Dense darkness prevailed and nothing could be done till dawn. It was
then found that the cyclone had done even more damage to the city than
we had at first supposed. Though the circus was a complete wreck, it
was learned that both the city and its suburbs had suffered severely,
and it was considered providential that the performance had attracted
so great a concourse of the people from their homes.