Modoc: The True Story of the Greatest Elephant That Ever Lived

by Ralph Helfer

  “Right now.”

  “That’s great news! Isn’t it?” asked Bram, taking Gertie’s arm. She snuggled close to him.

  The vet put his hand on Bram’s shoulder, “Bram, these elephants have been down for a long time. Some won’t make it, even with the vaccine. They’re just too far gone.”

  Bram’s expression immediately changed. “You mean like Modoc?” he asked somberly.

  The vet put his head down. “Like Modoc.”

  The helicopter landed in the vacant lot next to the circus grounds. Three doctors, armed with hypodermic needles, spread out among the elephants, each giving huge dosages of the antidote. Ten cc’s intravenous was slowly injected into the large vein on the inside of the back foot. But it was too late for two of them.

  One by one their labored breathing suddenly stopped. Their huge bellows came to a halt. One was Bertha.

  Modoc lay like a rock. Only the rhythmic swelling of her stomach and the blinking of her eyes was testimony to the life inside. The groans of pain seemed to be coming more steadily. She would seem to hold her breath, her body would rock, and then as the pain subsided she would relax till the next one. Bram stood by, feeling helpless at her discomfort. He had watched the doctors work on the other elephants and thought about Mo and finally came to a decision. He knelt by her as Gertie watched his pain from a small distance, holding herself strong for him. Curpo was astride Mo’s back, gently stroking her skin, touching her for comfort, to let her know that they were all there for her. Bram spoke tenderly to Modoc, hoping she could hear, hoping she wasn’t afraid.

  “Mo,” he said, “it’s all right. I don’t want you to suffer. You’ve been through so much in your life. Maybe it’s time you got to rest. Maybe it’s time you moved to the next phase, to do what’s next for you. I can’t bear to see you like this, Mo. I’d rather let you go than keep you in pain.”

  All of a sudden Bram heard a slight belly rumble. He put his ear to her stomach. Could it be? Yes, it was there, sure enough—a belly rumble. He stood up, excited.

  “Curpo! Curpo! Come down! Now!”

  “What’s wrong, Bram?” he asked, sliding off.

  “Kelly!” he cried, looking around like a wild man. “Kelly, get over here—and bring some help!”

  Gertie rushed forward. “What’s the matter, Bram, what is it?”

  “I need Kelly—NOW!”

  A minute later Kelly came rushing in with some other men.

  “Bram, what’s happened?”

  “Kelly, you and the others get behind her, now! When I tell you—push!”

  Seven or eight men got behind her.

  The stomach started its laboring, the groaning came, and then the rocking.

  “Now! Push!”

  The rocking became stronger, more persistent. The veterinarian appeared and took a place among the men.

  “Push harder!”

  Her body began a rocking motion, raising her feet high in the air.

  “AGAIN—NOW! PUSH!”

  And on one big push, Modoc was up on her brisket, sphinx style. A roar of happy laughter, tears of joy, and applause followed.

  The vet was flabbergasted. “I don’t understand.”

  “Mo was trying to tell us to get her on her brisket. She knew from experience this was necessary for her recovery. We knew the peritoneal cavity functions normally in this position and her circulation would return. Modoc started the healing and the vaccine did the rest!”

  The vet took a temperature reading and wiped his brow in astonishment. “It’s returning to normal. But how is it possible that she would know what is good for her?”

  “I wonder how…” said Bram, tongue in cheek.

  Gertie leaped into Bram’s arms, tears of happiness flowing down her cheeks, and then flew into Kelly’s, giving him a hug, and finally gave Modoc a huge kiss. Curpo feigned disgust at her antics until he received the same big hug and he, in turn, grabbed her and gave her a big kiss. She burst out laughing for the first time in a very long time. Bram joined in while the others stood and watched, as confused and bewildered as ever. Bram, Gertie, Curpo—and Modoc knew.

  Two months later the first elephant performances since the poisoning got under way.

  A moment of silence was asked for those that had died.

  36

  “ALWAYS WALK IN THE VALLEY OF LIFE. The mountains on either side are rugged and steep. The chasm below treacherous!” Kalli Gooma’s teaching was always with Bram. And he heeded it well. Bram walked in the valley. He had no desire to compete in a world of one-upmanship. There would be enough yang as it was, and he felt better prepared to handle it on familiar territory.

  As the years passed, the trailer was exchanged for a larger one, much to Mr. North’s chagrin, and a pickup truck was purchased to haul special food for Modoc, leather gear that needed repair, things for the house. Each winter and summer brought the same routine and reputation. The circus would quarter in Florida during the winter and play the performance dates all summer long.

  Sometimes a letter would come from the Indian village. The mahouts would gather and write a letter together. They would speak of the elephants, the teak, and always mention Sian’s family.

  “They pray for you in the temple every Sunday and hope you are well.”

  Sometimes Sian’s parents would write. Gertie could always tell the difference in the handwriting. Ja would usually do the writing for the family. He spoke often of the pain the village still carried. So many had died, the families had come together to help and support one another.

  “We have put a monument at the lake where you and Sian first met. We think you would both like that.” The letter went on:

  We thought many times to move her here with us, but I and my family, we think you have chosen a special place for her. She loved you with all her heart, and that love is with her forever. We miss you, Bram, chosen son of the maharajah. Come back to us someday. Our hearts and love are with you and your lady, Gertie.

  Your second family,

  Ja

  “I think that’s sweet of them, Bram. To build such a monument,” Gertie said after he finished telling her.

  “That was such a long time ago,” he said sadly.

  “Do you miss them very much?”

  “Oh, from time to time, I think about them all and what happened, but it’s in the past now and the past gives us our strength, so to be sad about gaining strength is not very wise, is it?” he asked, putting the letter aside.

  “You make things sound so…I don’t know…connected. It’s a nice way to look at life.”

  “It is all connected, dear. Each moment connects to the next and it is through time we move in our lives. All is as it should be—to help us grow and become who and what we are.”

  “And Modoc…?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Ah, Modoc…well, she is…Modoc.”

  The elephants had just finished their grand entry when it happened. A curl of smoke was seen rising from the entranceway.

  At first nobody bothered about it, figuring someone nearby would take care of it. Nobody did. The smoke drifted through the tent, forming a thin line that could be seen high above the arena.

  “Fire!” someone finally yelled. People in the stands rose and looked about, trying to see where it was coming from.

  “Now don’t panic, I’m sure it’s nothing,” said a spectator.

  Suddenly a voice from the loudspeaker boomed, “Attention, please. Would everyone please move to far exit of the tent. Attention, please. Please move in a calm and orderly fashion. There is a small fire near the entranceway. For your safety, and the safety of the animals, please move to the far exit of the tent. Thank you.”

  “There’s a fire!”

  “Where?”

  “Near the entrance!”

  “No, he said the exit!”

  The smoke, now having thickened, had become a dense gray fog throughout the tent. People became disoriented.

  “Which way is
the exit?”

  “Over here!” someone yelled.

  “No, you idiot, you’re telling people the wrong way! It’s this way!”

  “I can’t see!”

  The panic began. Slowly at first, then building into a frenzy. People started screaming, coughing! The smoke by now was thick and dark.

  Bram and Curpo had just finished buckling the blanket and headpiece on Mo when the fire started. They were on their way out the backstage exit when Bram heard the people screaming. He looked at Curpo.

  “Ya go on ahead, I’ll finish ’ere.”

  A nod of okay and he was gone. “Come on, Mo!”

  Bram headed for the exit area. It was much worse than he had imagined. People were crowding, pushing, fighting to get through. Many were falling down.

  Bram yelled, “Follow the elephant! Follow the elephant! She knows the way! Hold on to the blanket, even her tail.”

  “Please take my children!” begged a woman, followed by others. He lifted them up to Mo’s back. All huddled together.

  “Hurry, hurry!”

  A dozen more children scrambled up on Mo’s back. As she started to the exit, the billowing smoke made breathing impossible.

  “Hold your breath as long as you can!” Bram yelled for all to hear. “Move up, Mo. Move! Move!”

  Going by instinct to where the open flaps were, she carefully moved forward. People hung on to her from all sides as she headed into the smoke. In the thick of it, some dropped at her side, unable to continue, and others quickly took their places. Like a locomotive coming out of a tunnel, she emerged from the smoke out into the fresh air. Mo staggered and fell in the open lot. She was burning!

  The people fell to the ground coughing, choking, some vomiting, others lying still. Mo was wheezing and gagging, shaking her head trying to get rid of the smoke in her lungs. She blew air and smoke out of her trunk. Bram was on his knees coughing and choking as were the others. He staggered to his feet. People were running to help get the children off, carrying them away from the cloud of smoke coming from the tent.

  Bram managed to find a hose and turned it on, spraying Mo first, then drenching himself with the water.

  “Bram, Bram! Where are you?” He heard Gertie calling his name but his throat had been so ravaged by the smoke, he could barely whisper.

  “Here! Here!”

  When Gertie reached him she barely recognized him. He was covered in a blanket of thick black smoke. The water spray and soot had covered him and Mo with black ooze, dripping like mud.

  “Where’s Curpo?” Bram asked, thinking his friend had escaped into the safe night air.

  “I don’t know! I haven’t seen him. Wasn’t he with you backstage?”

  “He’s still there! Oh my God!”

  Bram ran to Modoc. He knew he could never fight the hysterical crowd pouring out of the tent. But Mo could. He had to get back in to find Curpo!

  “Get up, Mo!”

  Modoc slowly raised herself, her eyes tearing from the smoke. Bram was up on her in a flash.

  “Gertie, hand me that tarp lying over there! When I put it over us, soak it down!”

  Gertie handed it up to Bram, who spread it out over himself and Mo.

  “Now! Gertie, NOW!”

  She blasted the water stream over them till they were soaking wet. Bram headed Mo back into the tent. She never hesitated. Straight in they went. Once inside the big top, Bram could see the smoke had curled upward, giving a slight clearing in the smoke. Fire was racing up the canvas sides of the big tent, the bleachers were afire. He could feel the heat on his face. People ran by, coughing, gasping for air. Mo occasionally raised her foot to step over a body. When they arrived at the spot where they had left Curpo, Bram dismounted so he could see closer to the ground. He held Mo’s ear, leading her through the smoke, trying to calm her as the searing heat and thick black smoke pressed heavy against them both. Visibility was becoming harder and harder. His eyes were tearing and he kept wiping them so he could scan the area.

  “Curpo!” he cried, his voice so harsh it hurt. “Curpo, where are you?” He hoped to hear his friend’s voice holler back, “Bram, over ’ere,” helping the two find each other.

  Nothing. He called again and again until his voice was just above a whisper. All around him he could hear people crying in fear, and in the distance he could hear the sounds of terrified animals—the big cats roaring, the horses whinnying, and trainers’ voices trying to calm them and get them out of the fire line.

  Bram’s lungs were giving out. Mo was gasping for air. They made it to the backstage area when Bram went down. Modoc stood for a moment, then picked him up. He fell again, and again she picked him up. The movement brought him around long enough to see that Mo had found Curpo! She had him in her trunk, carrying him low to the ground where there was less smoke. She herself was staggering but got back to Bram. She gave him a leg up. He grabbed the blanket and by sheer willpower, inched his way to the top.

  “Move, Mosie, Movvvve…”

  Bram passed out on her back, clutching the blanket with a death grip.

  Suddenly there was a loud explosion at the exit! The fire had found its oxygen when people raised the flaps trying to escape. The oxygen coming in from the outside fueled the smoke—and what had been a tunnel of smoke was now a wall of fire! Anyone who had been in there when it happened had met with instant death.

  Modoc saw the wall of flame. She never faltered. She hit it with a vengeance. She screamed an agonizing, roaring trumpet…and raced full tilt into and through the raging inferno! The flames set the blanket on fire. Bram also was afire, as was Mo as she cleared the tent and fell twenty yards outside it.

  People came from everywhere, grabbing Bram and Curpo out of the flames. Buckets of water were thrown on them, water hoses doused the flames, blankets were brought to snuff out the fire on Modoc’s burning flesh!

  Fire engines had arrived, police, ambulances all converged on the scene all racing, hoping to save as many as possible.

  Gertie, who had been called to help with the horses, suddenly appeared. Her face was covered in soot and her dress was torn where she had ripped it to make blinders to cover the horses’ eyes to guide them out of the danger areas. She raced to Bram, kneeling by his side.

  “Bram! Bram, honey! Please. Please.” She was holding him, rocking him like a child. He lay still. A fireman pulled her away. “Let me get him some air.” He clamped an oxygen mask over Bram’s face and felt his pulse. “It’s steady” he said as Gertie closed her eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath of relief. “He should be all right, ma’am. Just let him breathe easy.”

  “What about…?” She couldn’t finish as she eyed their little friend lying next to Bram.

  Curpo hadn’t moved. An oxygen mask covered his face as well. There was no sign of life. The fireman tried to find a pulse. Nothing.

  Gertie turned her head away, unable to comprehend what was happening, and saw Mo lying as though dead. She had crashed headlong into the ground. Her head, tusks, and trunks were buried into the thick mud the water had created. The stench from her burning skin permeated the area. Gertie’s knees almost gave way but she heard a familiar voice, calling.

  “Gertie? Don’t worry! I’ll handle it!” The commanding voice was Kelly’s. He turned to the watching crowd and pointed to several men. “You, pull her head up, and you, get that air hose from the oxygen unit over here!” he ordered.

  Ten volunteers instantly helped to lift Mo’s head so her breathing was unhampered. The air hose was run down her throat. Smoke was still coming from her mouth.

  Kelly formed a line of men in unison to push on her belly to get the smoke out and some air in. He didn’t know if it would help but he had to try! After what seemed like an eternity, Modoc started to cough. She tried to stand.

  “Help her!” Kelly cried, and ordered the men about Modoc. “This way!” As he had seen Bram do on occasion, he now did to help Mo stand. In a few minutes she was on her legs. Shaken, but
upright. She slowly moved to Bram and caressed him with her trunk. Gertie patted her neck and gave her a kiss.

  “Oh, Modoc,” she cried.

  Curpo never regained consciousness. He had swallowed so much smoke that his little lungs collapsed. His small body was covered and put in the waiting ambulance. It didn’t turn on the siren.

  Bram opened his eyes. He saw Gertie’s expression and the tears streaming down her face. He removed the mask from his face and was almost afraid to voice the question.

  “Curpo? Modoc?” he whispered, his throat still raw.

  She knelt beside him and took his hand, her voice choking. “Bram, my love, Modoc’s fine…but…” Her eyes drifted off to the departing ambulance. She shook her head in grief and loss.

  Bram looked away from his wife. The tears filled his eyes.

  Curpo was dead.

  37

  BRAM NEVER DID GET OVER CURPO’S DEATH. He blamed himself for not being there. He should have stayed or…something! Curpo had brought so much love and understanding into his life. He was his brother in life, a companion who was there to listen, to help, and above all, to share his pain and happiness. These thoughts made him realize how very little he knew about Curpo.

  Yes, he knew where he was born, his parents’ names, all that primary information, but what about his feelings about being small? They had never talked about it, or about his never marrying. Maybe because they talked only about Bram’s problems.

  No one ever filled Curpo’s place alongside Bram. He did everything by himself. Sometimes when Gertie or Kelly wasn’t busy, he would let them feed or clean, but no one else.

  After the big top fire the circus closed down. For two years it battled the legal system. Dozens of people, including children, had perished. The lawsuits nearly broke Mr. North but his bulldog attitude kept him fighting to reopen the circus. It was said that he hurt many families by fighting them in court. He had the wherewithal to hire big-shot attorneys, and many cases were won unfairly. Hospital bills that he should have paid were left to the poor people who patronized the circus on that fateful day. Some went bankrupt, others won a small amount but never enough to compensate their losses.