Thrills of Circus Life

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 852, 21 December 1929, Page 22

Thrills of Circus Life

The Tantrums of Anna the Elephant . . . The Lion Tamer Who Was “ Mauled Twice Nightly.” The Sanger family is destined f.> hr remembered so long as circuses, are a popular form of amusement. In the folbnring article from the “Sunday \~ er . Mr. ir«io» Dishcr interviews Mr. George Sanger on the completion of his 5 oth year of ring life. HEVER stand between a solid wall and an elephant. Some frolicsome instinct within his ponderous breast may tempt him to flatten you against it. This has happened more than once, and the tale is generally told not in a hospital but at an inquest.

I thought of such accidents the other afternoon when I stood in the shadow of a rather quarrelsome old female elephant named Anna. Her trunk was friendly enough as its little finger explored my pockets, but there was a mischievous glint in the eyes that looked down upon me from a majestic height. Now. although I have taken more delight in throwing oranges into elephants’ mouths than in shying at coconuts. 1 had come without any gift. Would Anna be annoyed? It seemed unlikely—and, anyhow, the wall behind me was canvas. So I left off apologising to her and talked instead to her master, Mr. George Sanger, of elephants and their ways. He was born in the circus, and there is little of its lore he does not know backward. It is now 50 years since he began to take an active part in the management of the show first run by his father, John Sanger, and then by his brother, “Lord” John Sangor, who died very recently. Robbed Her Babies To know more about elephants and their ways listen to what Mr. Sanger told me of wicked old Anna, besides her adult companion, Betty, and the two babies »they are supposed to mother. “Betty,” he said, “is always concerned about the little one s w elfare, but Anna has no maternal feelings whatever. There was a time when we missed one of them. Then we heard it squealing. Anna had taken it behind a wagon, and was giving it a good old-fashioned spanking with her trunk.” As though she gloried in hearing of this exploit, Anna at once wheeled round, stretched out her trunk toward the babies, and stole an armful of their hay. “Anna!” her master called, reproving. She put it down, turned round again, and (so I imagine) gave me a wink. “Thoroughly obedient,” commented Mr. Sanger, “except in one respect, aud that I cannot understand at all. They won’t let one of my men come near them. He is our best groom and all the horses love him. But every elephant we’ve ever had has hated him at first sight—though we take great care that these belonging to our show are tame nowadays. “We had a mankilling tusker with us once. He murdered his keeper while we were at Padiham, in Lancashire, some 20 years or so ago, and then broke loose. The first 1 knew of it was when he came pounding and bellowing across the fields to me. You know how a dog behaves when he knows he has done wrong? It was exactly like that. The Man Killer “His remorse was so thorough that we forgave him, and he performed all his tricks in the tent, night after night, as peaceably as ever, until his crime was almost forgotten. Then he had another attack of lust—this time in the ring, with a crowded audience all around him.

“He knocked his keeper over with a blow of his trunk. When I shouted at him he turned and ran at me. I dodged his charges at first, hut lost my rooting and fell. In a couple of strides he was over me. Down came his head, a black mass that looked like a fall of rock, and my ttiigh was stabbed by a blow from one of his shortened tusks. “There was no doubt that I should have been the second of his victyns, had not a plucky negro given him a powerful kick behind the knee. After that it was rather like a bull-fight—-only, of course, our danger was far greater than that of a toreador. Compared with an elephant, the bull is a weakling. I remember a show In Madrid when they matched one against the other. The bull, mad with fury,

charged with all his f Olt . e elephant barely moved. He m !“* the life out of his opponent as you might kill a rabbit. So jui. T imagine how our men felt v tackling the angry beast in the • B In order to head him off stampeding spectators, they x him from the back and ran the open with him In pursuit ral ° “So they tired him out ard . him down. It happened that v manrv were in camp near by f ,eo ' brought their carbines, and ila e H fire at a spot marked on his forei.-J One lurch, with wild trumpetinra fy 3ll him. however, aud they fled ’ head constable arrived. "Hand a * gun,’ he said. He only need«c „ * shot. The criminal was dead umtH* executioner took away two ot'liie as trophies. As for myself l Wat , ® up for sixteen weeks, and h*il , hobble about on crutches for a while.” 10B * "'Ve had a huge, powerful lion .k attacked its trainer every tim,. jf went into its ‘den.’ Spectators wh saw one performance usually queued n° to see the next. ‘The lion’ll gei this time,’ they used to say. ' la! ‘They waited until the trainer cam. staggering back to renew the struck* His clothes were in tatters, his Jf. newly repaired, and his arms in w dages. He gingerly opened the this The moment it closed behind him i* was pinned against the bars, with snarling fangs at his face, jviati and beast wrestled for mastery, untl ths man, thankful to escape with kin n; gave up the task. Out he went hn? ging his injuries and gasptnr for breath. Lion Never Got Him “Yet, like a hero, he was reacy for the next performance. More and more bandages appeared on his head and showed beneath the gaps in hit coat

and trousers. ‘The lion’ll get hln next time,’ everybody said. “But thei lion never ‘got liin.’ It was an aged ‘monarch of the jungle that inhabited that cage. It was let out at night to stroll with his beloved master to the cook’s tent. There these two, after their life uni death struggles, sat down side by side. The victor gazed up into the leser’s face w-’th dog-like devotion, waiting for the easily digested tit-bits that we tenderly placed into its toothless mouth. Return of Turpin “Just before we parted I congratulated Mr. Sanger on reviving the circus drama, “Dick Turpin’s Ride to York.” “I’ve seen some strange specimens of the circus drama in my time,” he answered. “There used to be a little tenting show in *he West country whose bills proclaimed the ‘grand equestrian spectacle of the Battle of Waterloo.’ I went to see it. Napoleon, who entered first, said: T arranged to meet Wellington here, but as h 6 has not turned up. I will entertain you with the tricks of my performing mare, Bes3.’ Then Wellington, acted by a half-caste, arrived. ‘I arranged,’ he told us, ‘to meet Napoleon ere, but as he has not turned up, I will erfortain you with a few tricks on the slack wire.’ “Afterward they rode Into the ring together and executed a mimic sword combat, during which the attendant 1 lit flares close to the seats. Then was so much smoke that the audienc! was forced out of the tent before It had a chance to make any sounds oi disapproval.”