It didn't seem as though anything wrong could
happen. The elephants wouldn't come out of the creek, so the boss
canvasman went over to where there were about 500 cowboys and Indians on
horseback, and asked them to ride into the creek and drive the elephants
out where the rest of the animals were, on the prairie.
Gee, but that was the greatest mistake he could have made. The men on
horseback didn't want any better fun, so they made a charge, in line of
battle, just like Sheridan's cavalry, down the bank, into the creek,
yelling and waving lariat ropes, and snapping whips and the elephants
got out of that creek in a hurry. The cowboys threw lassoes over the
hind feet of the elephants, and tried to hold them, and the elephants
bellowed, and dragged the cowboys and their ponies right amongst the
other animals, and in about a minute, as the boss canvasman said when he
came to, and they were picking the cactus thorns out of him: "Hell was
just plumb out for noon."
The buffaloes smelled the Indians, and they started to stampede, like
they used to do when they lived on the plains, and all the animals
followed, dragging the men who had hold of their ropes, and away we all
went over a rise of ground, the zebras in the lead and the elephants
fetching up the rear, the cowboys and Indians behind, yelling and
ki-i-ing, and more than 500 Indian dogs barking.
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