whisky, which he filled up with water and gave to the shivering animal.
There is no use giving an elephant whisky unless you give him enough.

Now came a run of an hour and a half without stop, and during this time
Arstingstall was alone in the animal-car, and about as busy as he ever
expects to be on this earth. The trouble began when he unloosed the
elephant's chains to lead him nearer the stove, for it looked as if his
ears might freeze, as happens. Indeed, an elephant's ears will sometimes
freeze so hard that big pieces drop off, while a frozen tail has been
known to drop off entirely.

Against such chances Arstingstall wished to take precautions, so he led
the elephant down the car, through the jumble of animals and cages, all
the less prepared for mischief as this was rather a smallish elephant,
not over six feet at the shoulder and showing only half-grown tusks. But
they were sharp. Whether it was the whisky taking violent effect or some
sudden hatred for his keeper--at any rate, that elephant, long before he
reached the stove, set forth upon a murderous campaign the like of which
Arstingstall had never known. Before he realized the danger, he felt the
creature's trunk twisting around his neck, and he was hurled violently
to the floor. There he lay helpless, while the elephant hesitated, one
might fancy, whether to kneel on him and crush the life out or run him
through with his tusks.

In that moment's pause Arstingstall made a last despairing effort, did
the only thing he could do, sunk his teeth into the fleshy finger that
curls around the end of an elephant's trunk and covers the opening so
that no invading mouse may enter and work destruction. In all an
elephant's great body, there is no spot so sensitive as this finger,
and, with a scream of pain, the animal loosed his hold, whereupon
Arstingstall sprang behind one of the cages. But the elephant was after
him in a moment, swinging his trunk and trumpeting black murder.
Arstingstall dodged behind the camels, behind the sacred bull, behind
the stove. The elephant followed him everywhere, profiting by his
smallness, and where he could not go himself he sent his curling trunk.
Arstingstall, out of breath, climbed on top of the lion's cage, thinking
to find some respite, but the red-ended trunk pursued him. Once more he
tried biting tactics, and as the reaching finger swept along the cage
top he seized it again in his teeth, and this time took a piece clean
out