Read Modoc: The True Story of the Greatest Elephant That Ever Lived Page 24


  Coming down the back side of the mountain was pure joy. Tree-laden valleys sloped up to meet them as the open spaces of the country spread out in a great panorama. From the moment he and Modoc left the village Bram found himself becoming anxious finally to arrive in the United States.

  Once they reached the main road, a special truck had been constructed to haul Mo to the ship dock. It was a flatbed truck. No walls! Bram, with a smile, had Mo step onto the bed of the truck. The whole back of the truck crunched down, raising the front tires off the ground a few inches! Then, once she was on, Bram found center. He marked out four circles in which he instructed her to put her feet. Mo kept her feet in the circles pretty well. When she had an itch and raised her foot to scratch, the truck would swerve a bit until her itch was satisfied.

  Bram rode in the back with her so she would feel secure. He instructed the driver to go very slow, especially around corners. One of the mahouts rode up front to be sure he held the speed down. Then off they went down the twisted mountain road. Even though the truck was most unusual, riding in it reminded Bram of when he used to drive with his father. Things were different then.

  The ship was smaller than The Ghanjee. She was a sailing vessel rather than a steam freighter, and her three masts towered into the sky. Under the circumstances this was the best Mr. North could do. The name of the ship was sprawled across the side of the bow but it was in some Arabic language Bram couldn’t pronounce. Because there was no port crane to lift Modoc onto the deck, a huge ramp had been built and secured between the dock and the ship. Mo’s eyes were as big as the portholes when she looked down between the slats of the ramp into the sea below.

  Only Bram’s gentle persuasion, urging one foot after another, gave her the security and trust to board the ship. Many had heard the story of her terrifying experience at sea, and a round of applause went up as her hind foot took its final step and cleared the ramp.

  Seeing the ship and the ocean had brought back the horrors of the sea. Mo knew and felt the slightest movement. Being a sailing vessel, the ship didn’t compare with the huge steam freighter they had traveled on previously. Rather than cut a wedge though the ocean, it rode with the waves, at the mercy of the sea.

  Mo refused to enter the hold. All the begging and pleading from Bram was met with strong resistance. She remembered only too well the terrifying experience that had happened down there. With special arrangements from the captain and a bit of persuasion money from North, a makeshift “elephant’s quarters” was erected aft on deck—a position high up and directly in front on the open deck. A huge brilliant orange and gold emergency flag was used as a roof to protect Modoc from the rays of the sun. It caused a glow to filter down across her body that seemed to light her from within like an ethereal spirit. She appeared as a golden statue.

  “She would be the first to sight anything out of the ordinary, had she a mind to,” rasped the first mate. Being up top gave her the freedom to see the ocean, to know what was happening. The crew nicknamed her the Sea Nymph, a most unlikely name. When the sails were full, her stance was commanding, leaning into the wind, trunk raised, tusks forward as though going into battle.

  As the days drifted by the warm ocean winds calmed Mo. Her personality seemed relaxed and her diet returned to normal. The head injury was healing nicely.

  The ship headed west across the Bay of Bengal, around the southern tip of Africa, heading for the eastern coast of the United States.

  Modoc seemed to ride the waves while standing still. The roll of the ship caused her to lean forward and backward, keeping her balance. The nights were warm, calm, the sea as still as glass.

  The weeks turned to months. For exercise Bram learned to help hoist the sails, climbing to the top masts, taking turns in the “bird’s nest.”

  Early morning found Bram on deck. He had heard that they would be in sight of New York harbor that very day. He strained his eyes searching the horizon. Nothing. Until a blast from Mo caused all to look, and there dead ahead—land!

  She had spotted it long before anyone. One of the sailors had made a huge red and white sailor cap and neckerchief for her. The hat had a band around it to keep it from falling off. The scarf was tied in a bow and hung across her chest. She wore them proudly.

  The great day had arrived! The ship had turned its bow and was heading directly into the New York harbor!

  Everybody was running everywhere. It was still a little overcast but the sun would break through soon, and it promised to be a bright and sunny day. The huge foghorns blasted their arrival. Bram stood at the railing. He could see the tips of huge buildings high in the air. He had never even imagined a city so large. A fog bank left over from the night was lifting from a small island. As the ship approached, a large statue appeared. He heard someone call it the Great Lady. Another spoke of it as the Statue of Liberty. She was magnificent! They passed close by, horns blaring. Modoc took up the note and together the horns and the trumpeting signaled their arrival. Bram noticed how even Modoc looked small in comparison to her, but there was one thing they both had in common. They were both great ladies!

  Modoc leaned into the warm breeze coming from the city. She raised her trunk and smelled the strange odors, gathering up all the information she could before they arrived.

  A caravan of trucks picked them up and brought them to a squeaky stop. Back doors were opened. Planks were dropped. Cargo was unloaded.

  This was the circus grounds of the world-famous North Circus! Crowds of people had come to see the now-famous “Sea Elephant.” There were more people than Mo and Bram had ever seen.

  “Bram! Bram!”

  The voice came from somewhere in the crowd. A man was trying to fight his way through. He broke from the multitude of people and rushed toward Bram.

  “Kelly? Kelly! Oh my gosh. Mo, it’s Kelly!”

  The two men grabbed each other, hugged and danced around like kids. Bram was speechless. “How? Why? This is wonderful!”

  “Did you forget? I work here!”

  Bram had never even thought that Kelly would return to the circus. They were good friends, these two. There were tears on both sides but neither would admit it.

  “Hey, Kelly, we’ve got a ship to unload,” cried a voice from behind.

  “I’ve got to go now, Bram. I’ll see you later,” and he was gone, lost in the crowd he had come from.

  Bram unloaded Mo. They both were in rapture. A whole city in canvas. Why, the entire Wunderzircus could have fit in just one of the large tents! There were people everywhere. Clowns, circus hands, roustabouts, animals everywhere—camels, horses, giraffes, and elephants! Modoc was ecstatic! She blasted her newly found foghorn trumpet, attracting the attention of some ten or fifteen of them. They, in their own style, blasted back. This started the lions roaring from the menagerie tents, the zebras and horses braying, and the hysterical hyenas laughing. All saw fit to welcome Mo to her new home.

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  SHE WAS THE BIGGEST FROM THE START. Even old Bertha, the lead elephant, couldn’t match her size. Mo’s tusks had grown, and although not long, they were thick and impressive. She was being groomed to be the center of attraction from the very beginning.

  Beautiful ornate golden sheaths were made for her that slipped over the tips of her tusks and extended upward for almost a foot. They were etched with designs of the circus: acrobats, clowns, tiger and lion heads, and of course, elephants. Bram heard that a special blanket was also being made.

  Mr. North saw that Bram and Modoc were treated quite well. They were going “First Cabin.” A small but neat trailer was given to Bram. It featured a kitchen, a closet, and a compact but comfortable living room with chairs and a radio. The trailer was fully equipped with a stove, a heater, and an outdoor patio with a folding table, two chairs, and a portable green canvas roof.

  It, like the trailers of the other performers, was designed to be loaded on the circus train as it moved from city to city. The toilets were separate units but always within wal
king distance, Bram knew that Mr. North never did anything out of the goodness of his heart. He figured Mr. North wanted to keep them happy so they would give a great performance. North couldn’t risk anything going wrong for his opening day and surely didn’t need any problems. What better way to keep them content?

  To Bram, his salary was a lot of money but it was far less than what the other trainers received. Bram and Modoc were introduced to the other trainers and elephants. Kelly had mentioned it wouldn’t be easy at first. Lots of jealousy, pride—egos ran rampant and one had to be “about themselves” so no harm would come to theirs.

  Mo was kept in the lineup with the other elephants: a total of forty-two! Bram couldn’t believe that many existed outside India. All were females except for four young bulls. They were all kept in position according to size, the smallest at one end, the largest, Modoc, at the other.

  Bertha was the dominant matriarch cow elephant. The others had a great deal of respect for her and always backed down to her wishes. She carried a few scars from her years in the circus.

  Within days Bram had made the rounds and gotten to know all the elephants in his special way. Kelly was amazed at how quickly Bram had captured the respect of the animals.

  “It’s one thing when a couple of elephants take a swing or ram each other but the worst injuries generally come from the bull hook in the hands of rough trainers.” He traced his hands over the old wounds. “These, where the holes festered, had become infected. They were caused by the bull hook being used incorrectly. Foot, Bertha!” ordered Bram. Bertha raised her foot and placed it on a barrel used to trim the elephants’ toenails.

  “Most,” Bram continued, pointing, “are in the region of the upper front leg muscle, behind the knee area on the hind foot, and the joint where the ear joins the head. Sometimes at the top of the back. All these areas are where a bull hook is used gently when handling and controlling the elephant. But no good trainer needs to put holes in his elephant. The bull hook is used to teach, not abuse.”

  Bram put her foot down and leaned against her side. “You know, a young circus elephant’s training may start with a gentle, competent trainer but as the years pass, trainers leave or are fired. Then the elephants are handed down from one trainer to another, each with his own style of training and handling. Bad habits become the way. Rough handling by the trainer puts the elephant in a survival mode—always nervous, jumpy, not knowing what to expect next. Many develop an ‘I’ll get even’ attitude.”

  “Are there any bad ones here?” asked Kelly, looking down the long line of elephants.

  “There’re a few that are waiting for their chance. I’ve told the trainers, but they won’t listen. They think I’m butting in on their jobs.”

  For the first season Mr. North used Modoc as a showpiece. The circus master, after a roll of the drum, would announce the performance:

  “Ladies and gentlemen, children from around the world. The North Circus proudly presents the most FAMOUS, the most DARING, and the BRAVEST animal in the world! Ladies and gentlemen—we give you MODOC—the Golden Elephant!”

  The spotlights would flood the entrance to the arena as Modoc, wearing a solid red velvet blanket with gold trim and tassels, would appear, led by Bram, her golden tusks throwing reflections that glittered in the light.

  There was no mention of Bram throughout the performance. He would lead Mo to the center ring where he put her through the old routine she had performed at the Wunderzircus.

  At first both Mo and Bram were shocked at the number of people! The roar of the crowd! And the applause was deafening! But Bram knew they were not applauding the performance. They loved Modoc for her act of heroism that Mr. North publicized in every newspaper in the country.

  Many had seen the same act done by other elephants, but this was being done by Modoc, the heroine, the one they heard about on the radio, the one who saved the people! This is what Mr. North wanted. His publicity was paying off.

  Bram enjoyed the performance and loved seeing Modoc center ring. And, true, she had saved many lives. But he wanted to be able to show the world Modoc was capable of performing in a way no other elephant had ever done. He knew the time was coming when he would be able to show the world all that his father, the Elephantarium, and Kalli Gooma had taught him.

  Bram never allowed the animal keepers to clean and feed Modoc, which upset the head trainer because the keepers were under his charge.

  “We’ve been doing it the same way for many, many years. Why do you think your way is better?”

  “It’s not. It’s just that I have an alternative, that’s all.”

  The head trainer sat looking perplexed. He really was interested in what Bram was doing but didn’t want to ask. As though reading his mind, Bram spoke. “Look, when the men clean and feed, they do it as a job. They have no interest in the animals. They don’t try to know them, to understand. They don’t look them over for health problems. We both know that many keepers drink, some are what you call winos and come to work reeking of alcohol. If an elephant is in the way, they jab it with a pitchfork to move it. They never check to see if the hay may be contaminated, or if the water container’s clear of algae.”

  “But they’re just animals. You make them out to be human,” offered the head trainer.

  Bram saw that he would never understand. It made him realize that if the head trainer felt that way about keeping them, he probably trained the elephants the same way.

  “Yes, I know,” he said and walked away, bewildering the head trainer even more.

  Bram’s happier times were when Kelly would stop by during his break and share a cup of coffee. They would talk of their past that seemed so long ago and of Bram’s journey since leaving his country. They spoke of Hands.

  “You were probably one of the last to see him,” said Kelly.

  “Ya, he was a good friend. I wanted to thank him for all he did. He saved my life, you know, and so doing, saved Mo.”

  The train seemed to stop at every small town on the East Coast. Bram was amazed at the precision with which the tents went up, the animals were unloaded, and the concession stands were erected. Before he knew it the calliope was playing and people were pouring through the entrance!

  But the weather was changing and soon the circus would close down and move to a warmer climate farther down the coast to wait out the winter. This would be an excellent time for Bram to work with Modoc.

  He had sent his letters home the minute he arrived in New York but had heard only from his mother and Curpo. Gertie had never answered. He decided to write again.

  My dear Gertie,

  The time has passed so quickly. I feel so much older than my years tell me. The terrifying ship experience that I spoke of in my last letter, my trip through India, the death of Sian, so much more, all have taken their toll. Sometimes I feel exhausted after having done just a small amount of work. I am told I still suffer from the shock of what happened. That’s hard to believe seeing it was so long ago. I cried the other night…I can’t believe I am writing this. But I feel that you, Mom, and Curpo are my only family. And I hurt you all. I guess it is my guilt that is writing.

  I have been in America six months and have yet to hear from you. Curpo says he sees you, that you come to the house, bring my mother things of caring—cookies, jams, cakes. They say you refuse to talk about me…us. I understand…so very well. I cannot say that if I had to do it over things would be different. Someone I met while I was in India, Kalli Gooma, a very wise man, said, “All life is…and cannot be judged good or bad.” I was in great pain loving two women. I went to the temple to ask direction. I received no enlightenment. That in itself was an answer. I was forced to look within and do what I felt was right. To be with one I cared for a great deal, knowing that I would never see the other again, was confusing and terrifying for me. I know how I would feel if it was I who had to suffer you loving another man!

  But now one is gone. My love for you has and always will be as strong
a love as one can have for another. Kalli Gooma also said, “A love for one does not take away the love for another.”

  My job is good. Modoc says hello. Please forgive my rambling.

  By early next year I will have saved enough to bring Mom, Curpo and…would you come? I guess not. Your pain must be very great. Gertie, I don’t know how to handle this! I once told you that my love for you would never die. It’s as true today as it was then. Why do I feel so uncomfortable writing to you? My mind is awhirl.

  It is said that we can forgive but never forget. Please at least—-forgive me.

  Please come…

  Love,

  Bram

  Dear Bram,

  My love. You have always been my love. From the first day we met, when I peeked around Modoc’s head to see you up there, so proud. Remember, I danced on her back, we swam at Cryer Lake. You were my prince on your way to be king! And I was to have been your queen!

  Oh, Bram! I was so totally, so completely devastated when I heard about Sian. I know and understand why you did what you did. I can even forgive you. But my love, it still hurt!

  Why, we were never to see each other again! But, as you say, just as bad comes from good, so must good come from bad. If it wasn’t for the horrible war and Mr. North finding you, we would never be writing these letters now. We had been so worried, me and the family. All that time! Not knowing! When you told me about Sian, I, in a strange way, was happy for you. Yes! If one truly loves another, then his happiness is the most important, even if it means being hurt yourself.

  But to lose you! My love for you was great. So, so great! You were the man I would spend the rest of my life with! Now the question that keeps coming into my mind—who would you have chosen had I been there? Bram, Bram, do you hear me? Do you understand the pain, even though I can agree with your decision?