Elephant story is a personal memory

Ruapehu Bulletin, Volume 14, Issue 656, 1 October 1996, Page 11

Elephant story is a personal memory

A personal account by Celeste Ventura (then VeraBrailey) The elephant tale ( Bulle - tin, 10 September) by Greg Maylen was more than that to our family and his story stirred truly unforgettable memories. It was about 1 959 and we lived on the house nearest the mountain road on Railway Row (it has since been removed). Doug King and family lived next door. Bullen's circus arrived on the train at day-break with elephants waving their trunks out of the tops of stock wagons. It was one of the last big circuses. The elephants were unloaded first at the loading ramp and walked between .the tennis cOurts and the creek, over the little bridge and along Railway Row in front of the four houses at our end, just as we were leaving for school. Six elephants, camels, horses —

the lot. The circus was to be camped in the rugby field behind the houses (now approximately the ranger station land). After school, the circus was already set up with six or more elephants and an impressive group of other animals grazing along our back fenee. At one point, my sister and I looked up from our conversation on the back step to see four huge efc ephants walking through the gap in the fence where we had had firewood deli vered. Before their keeper wheeled them around and back out, they had walked all over Dad's Christmas potato crop, which was just showing green. He's since said he had the deepest spuds in New Zealand that year! The mountain road used to run much closer to the river than at present, curving down approximately the

other side of the toilets and back up to meet the existing road at the bush line. All the animals including the elephants were taken to drink at the little pool below the road and Mollie (as I think she was known) reached across the river and ate tutu on the opposite bank. She fell ill and drew crowds of children, vets, doctors and worried onlookers concerned at this huge and beautiful creature helpless among us. All sorts of cures were suggested and tried. She was administered enemas and emetics (both at the same time!). There was talk of stabbing to relieve the bloat but I didn't stay around for that. I know she was cut about the tail to bleed but eventually, and mercifully, after about two hours she died. I went back when a bulldozer had been called in which dug a shallow dip

and rolled her in. Her tethering peg, a big steel rod, was placed at the head of the grave and she was left with probably about a foot of earth covering her. My brother kept constant vigil over the grave because as the bloat receded the animal decomposed. Of course the earth caved slowly in and the smell began... It was summer and our house was down-wind. Mum took great exception to this — somehow adult noses are more sensitive than kids'. She ended up phoning the health department and explaining that even the washing smelled of elephant. I need to mention Mum was the one who also supplied hot scones to the elephant caregivers and luxflakes by the box-load for the elephants enemas. My brother had a small business flourish around that same elephant. Even-

tually you could wiggle the tetheringpeg loose and Ron would entice friends to pay him to look at the "elephant' s eye" by pulling the peg out and letting them gaze down the hole. Mum said a university group came back a yeai later, sawed off the elephant's head and took ii away to study (Mollie ap-

parently was the only known specimen who could stand on her head unsupported). The spot where the i pachyderm was buried is approximately under the Mountain Road just before - the ranger station footpath veers off. t Our family got free tickets to attend that night's

show and an acrobat fell in a balancing act and broke his collarbone - we all know it was because Mollie had died.