y mistake and Syd did what he said, while the
other elephants did the thing he meant to say. Anyhow, Syd turned on
'Patsy' and let him have both tusks, brass balls and all, right through
the body. Killed him in half a minute. Why, sir, they took 'Patsy's'
watch out through his back. That's the sort of thing you're liable to
run up against."

"Did they kill Syd?" I asked.

"No; they gave him the benefit of the doubt. You see, it ain't square to
blame an elephant for obeying orders."

Then came the story of how they killed bad old Pilot at the Madison
Square Garden back in 1883, fought his hard spirit all night long with
clubs and pitchforks and prods and hot irons, one hundred men flaying
and jabbing in relays against a poor, bound animal that died rather than
yield--died without a sound as day was breaking. "Yes, sir," said
Newman; "he never squealed, he wouldn't squeal, and three minutes before
he died he nearly killed me with a swing of his trunk. Oh, he was game
all right, Pilot was."

Newman came back to the difficulty of working animals broken in by
another tamer, but he declared that the thing can be done in some cases
if the new tamer has in him that unknown something to which all wild
beasts submit. His own wife, for example, after a dozen years of
peaceful married life, determined one day that she would make a herd of
eight big Asiatic elephants obey her, a thing no woman had ever
attempted. And within three weeks she did it, and drilled the herd in
public for years afterward--in fact, became a greater star than her
husband. All of which was most unusual, and due entirely to her
exceptional nerve and physical power. "Why, sir," said Newman, proudly,
"she was six feet tall and built like an athlete. She--she only died a
few years ago, and--and--" That gulp and the catch in his voice told the
whole story. This was no longer a dauntless elephant-trainer, but a
stricken, heart-broken man. What now were glories of the ring to
him--his wife was dead!

II

METHODS OF LION-TAMERS AND THE STORY OF BRUTUS'S ATTACK ON MR. BOSTOCK

THE wild-beast tamer as generally pictured is a mysterious person who
stalks about sternly in high boots and possesses a remarkable power of
the eye that makes lions and tigers quail at his look and shrink away.
He rules by fear, and the crack of his whip is supposed to bring
memories of torturing points and red-hot irons.

Such is the story-book lion-tamer, and I may as well s