The City Jungle Read Online Free PDF Page A

something like a covert smile.
    The curator half turned to the men outside, supporting himself with one hand against the elephant’s forehead. “Remove the body quietly! And inform the authorities.”
    They covered the dead boy with sail-cloth, and making an unrecognizable parcel of him, heaved him on a hand-car and trundled him off.
    â€œPhilip and William, you stay here,” commanded the curator. “You, too,” he shouted after one of the keepers. Then he turned to the elephant again.
    â€œDo you know that you’ll probably have to be shot? Have you gone mad, old fellow? The penalty for murder is death! Even for a great lord like you. Which is just as it should be!”
    â€œBut he’s perfectly peaceable!” It was Eliza’s anxious voice.
    â€œSilence!” commanded the curator.
    She was still, frightened at her own outcry.
    â€œAre you going to maul me?” the curator continued. “Or kill me? Me? After we’ve hit it off so well for nearly twenty-five years!”
    The elephant did not stir, but continued to sway his trunk back and forth.
    â€œWell, we’ll see,” said the curator, slapping the elephant’s gray iron-like forehead as he spoke. “We’ll see, my friend, how things stand with you! We’ll see whether you’re in your right mind or ripe for a bullet.”
    â€œBe careful now!” he commanded the tensely listening men in a low voice. “The hooks! But don’t let him see you!”
    Cautiously William and Philip fetched two steel prods, a long and a short one, whose points were as sharp as needles. They came nearer.
    â€œStay outside,” the curator ordered. “Watch every motion! And if you have to, let him have it in the eyes and trunk.”
    Suddenly he stooped and snatched at Minka.
    She eluded him with a short bleat. As the curator started to chase her the elephant became wildly excited. His huge ears clapped up and down with a rustling noise. He raised his trunk high, and a piteous sound issued from his gaping red mouth, like the tone which issues from a trumpet blown by an inexperienced trumpeter.
    The curator did not relax his pursuit of Minka. ­Pardinos placed himself squarely across his path. His trunk swished wildly through the air as if it were ­seeking some support, his ears clapped up and down incessantly. The broken poignant tones kept issuing from his throat.
    Presently Philip and William were compelled to enter the cage.
    The curator walked around the elephant and tried to catch Minka.
    With a sudden lightning-quick movement, ­Pardinos threw himself on the floor between Minka and the curator. It was a powerful gesture of unconditional obedience and passionate entreaty.
    The curator swung himself over the mountain of Pardinos’ body, caught the goat, took her in both arms, and carried her, walking close to the wall, past Pardinos, to the entrance.
    Once more the elephant was on his feet. But he made no move to follow the curator. He stood rooted to the spot, stricken as if by a blow of fate.
    Accompanied by Philip and William, the curator left the cage.
    â€œThat settles it,” he burst out as he set down Minka. She immediately bounded over to the cage.
    â€œCatch her,” muttered the curator. Eliza crouched down and clasped the goat gently, whispering words of consolation to her.
    The curator mopped his forehead, cheeks and neck with his handkerchief. It was not until then that his heart began to throb so that he could hear it pounding in his throat and temples. It was then, when it was all over, that he realized how upset he had been.
    â€œWell?” he asked, with a glance of inquiry at the others. “Well? Does either of you dare say now that the old fellow is dangerous? Or that he ought to be shot?”
    Neither answered.
    The elephant came up to the bars, stretching his trunk longingly after Minka whom he could not reach, but who bleated to him. Both animals