The Stolen White Elephant

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by Mark Twain



[Left out of A Tramp Abroad, because it was feared that some of the
particulars had been exaggerated, and that others were not true. Before
these suspicions had been proven groundless, the book had gone to press.
--M. T.]



The following curious history was related to me by a chance railway
acquaintance. He was a gentleman more than seventy years of age, and his
thoroughly good and gentle face and earnest and sincere manner imprinted
the unmistakable stamp of truth upon every statement which fell from his
lips. He said:

You know in what reverence the royal white elephant of Siam is held by
the people of that country. You know it is sacred to kings, only kings
may possess it, and that it is, indeed, in a measure even superior to
kings, since it receives not merely honor but worship. Very well; five
years ago, when the troubles concerning the frontier line arose between
Great Britain and Siam, it was presently manifest that Siam had been in
the wrong. Therefore every reparation was quickly made, and the British
representative stated that he was satisfied and the past should be
forgotten. This greatly relieved the King of Siam, and partly as a token
of gratitude, partly also, perhaps, to wipe out any little remaining
vestige of unpleasantness which England might feel toward him, he wished
to send the Queen a present--the sole sure way of propitiating an enemy,
according to Oriental ideas. This present ought not only to be a royal
one, but transcendently royal. Wherefore, what offering could be so meet
as that of a white elephant? My position in the Indian civil service was
such that I was deemed peculiarly worthy of the honor of conveying the
present to her Majesty. A ship was fitted out for me and my servants and
the officers and attendants of the elephant, and in due time I arrived in
New York harbor and placed my royal charge in admirable quarters in
Jersey City. It was necessary to remain awhile in order to recruit the
animal's health before resuming the voyage.

All went well during a fortnight--then my calamities began. The white
elephant was stolen! I was called up at dead of night and informed of
this fearful misfortune. For some moments I was beside myself with
terror and anxiety; I was helpless. Then I grew calmer and collected my
faculties. I soon saw my course--for, indeed, there was but the one
course for an intelligent man to pursue. Late as it was, I flew to New
York and got a policeman to conduct me to the headquarters of the
detective force. Fortunately I arrived in time, though the chief of the
force, the celebrated Inspector Blunt was just on the point of leaving
for his home. He was a man of middle size and compact frame, and when he
was thinking deeply he had a way of kniting his brows and tapping his
forehead reflectively with his finger, which impressed you at once with
the conviction that you stood in the presence of a person of no common
order. The very sight of him gave me confidence and made me hopeful.
I stated my errand. It did not flurry him in the least; it had no more
visible effect upon his iron self-possession than if I had told him
somebody had stolen my dog. He motioned me to a seat, and said, calmly:

"Allow me to think a moment, please."

So saying, he sat down at his office table and leaned his head upon his
hand. Several clerks were at work at the other end of the room; the
scratching of their pens was all the sound I heard during the next six or
seven minutes. Meantime the inspector sat there, buried in thought.
Finally he raised his head, and there was that in the firm lines of his
face which showed me that his brain had done its work and his plan was
made. Said he--and his voice was low and impressive:

"This is no ordinary case. Every step must be warily taken; each step
must be made sure before the next is ventured. And secrecy must be
observed--secrecy profound and absolute. Speak to no one about the
matter, not even the reporters. I will take care of them; I will see
that they get only what it may suit my ends to let them know." He
touched a bell; a youth appeared. "Alaric, tell the reporters to remain
for the present." The boy retired. "Now let us proceed to business--and
systematically. Nothing can be accomplished in this trade of mine
without strict and minute method."

He took a pen and some paper. "Now--name of the elephant?"

"Hassan Ben Ali Ben Selim Abdallah Mohammed Moist Alhammal
Jamsetjejeebhoy Dhuleep Sultan Ebu Bhudpoor."

"Very well. Given name?"

"Jumbo."

"Very well. Place of birth?"

"The capital city of Siam."

"Parents living?"

"No--dead."

"Had they any other issue besides this one?"

"None. He was an only child."

"Very well. These matters are sufficient under that head. Now please
describe the elephant, and leave out no particular, however
insignificant--that is, insignificant from your point of view. To me in
my profession there are no insignificant particulars; they do not exist."

I described he wrote. When I was done, he said:

"Now listen. If I have made any mistakes, correct me."

He read as follows:

"Height, 19 feet; length from apex of forehead insertion of tail, 26
feet; length of trunk, 16 feet; length of tail, 6 feet; total length,
including trunk, and tail, 48 feet; length of tusks, 9 feet; ears
keeping with these dimensions; footprint resembles the mark left when one
up-ends a barrel in the snow; the color of the elephant, a dull white;
has a hole the size of a plate in each ear for the insertion of jewelry
and possesses the habit in a remarkable degree of squirting water upon
spectators and of maltreating with his trunk not only such persons as he
is acquainted with, but even entire strangers; limps slightly with his
right hind leg, and has a small scar in his left armpit caused by a
former boil; had on, when stolen, a castle containing seats for fifteen
persons, and a gold-cloth saddle-blanket the size of an ordinary carpet."

There were no mistakes. The inspector touched the bell, handed the
description to Alaric, and said:

"Have fifty thousand copies of this printed at once and mailed to every
detective office and pawnbroker's shop on the continent." Alaric
retired. "There--so far, so good. Next, I must have a photograph of the
property."

I gave him one. He examined it critically, and said:

"It must do, since we can do no better; but he has his trunk curled up
and tucked into his mouth. That is unfortunate, and is calculated to
mislead, for of course he does not usually have it in that position."
He touched his bell.

"Alaric, have fifty thousand copies of this photograph made the first
thing in the morning, and mail them with the descriptive circulars."

Alaric retired to execute his orders. The inspector said:

"It will be necessary to offer a reward, of course. Now as to the
amount?"

"What sum would you suggest?"

"To begin with, I should say--well, twenty-five thousand dollars. It is
an intricate and difficult business; there are a thousand avenues of
escape and opportunities of concealment. These thieves have friends and
pals everywhere--"

"Bless me, do you know who they are?"

The wary face, practised in concealing the thoughts and feelings within,
gave me no token, nor yet the replying words, so quietly uttered:

"Never mind about that. I may, and I may not. We generally gather a
pretty shrewd inkling of who our man is by the manner of his work and the
size of the game he goes after. We are not dealing with a pickpocket or
a hall thief now, make up your mind to that. This property was not
'lifted' by a novice. But, as I was saying, considering the amount of
travel which will have to be done, and the diligence with which the
thieves will cover up their traces as they move along, twenty-five
thousand may be too small a sum to offer, yet I think it worth while to
start with that."

So we determined upon that figure as a beginning. Then this man, whom
nothing escaped which could by any possibility be made to serve as a
clue, said:

"There are cases in detective history to show that criminals have been
detected through peculiarities, in their appetites. Now, what does this
elephant eat, and how much?"

"Well, as to what he eats--he will eat anything. He will eat a man, he
will eat a Bible--he will eat anything between a man and a Bible."

"Good very good, indeed, but too general. Details are necessary--details
are the only valuable things in our trade. Very well--as to men. At one
meal--or, if you prefer, during one day--how man men will he eat, if
fresh?"

"He would not care whether they were fresh or not; at a single meal he
would eat five ordinary men.

"Very good; five men; we will put that down. What nationalities would he
prefer?"

"He is indifferent about nationalities. He prefers acquaintances, but is
not prejudiced against strangers."

"Very good. Now, as to Bibles. How many Bibles would he eat at a meal?"

"He would eat an entire edition."

"It is hardly succinct enough. Do you mean the ordinary octavo, or the
family illustrated?"

"I think he would be indifferent to illustrations that is, I think he
would not value illustrations above simple letterpress."

"No, you do not get my idea. I refer to bulk. The ordinary octavo Bible
weighs about two pound; and a half, while the great quarto with the
illustrations weighs ten or twelve. How many Dore Bibles would he eat at
a meal?"

"If you knew this elephant, you could not ask. He would take what they
had."

"Well, put it in dollars and cents, then. We must get at it somehow.
The Dore costs a hundred dollars a copy, Russia leather, beveled."

"He would require about fifty thousand dollars worth--say an edition of
five hundred copies."

"Now that is more exact. I will put that down. Very well; he likes men
and Bibles; so far, so good. What else will he eat? I want
particulars."

"He will leave Bibles to eat bricks, he will leave bricks to eat bottles,
he will leave bottles to eat clothing, he will leave clothing to eat
cats, he will leave cats to eat oysters, he will leave oysters to eat
ham, he will leave ham to eat sugar, he will leave sugar to eat pie, he
will leave pie to eat potatoes, he will leave potatoes to eat bran; he
will leave bran to eat hay, he will leave hay to eat oats, he will leave
oats to eat rice, for he was mainly raised on it. There is nothing
whatever that he will not eat but European butter, and he would eat that
if he could taste it."

"Very good. General quantity at a meal--say about--"

"Well, anywhere from a quarter to half a ton."

"And he drinks--"

"Everything that is fluid. Milk, water, whisky, molasses, castor oil,
camphene, carbolic acid--it is no use to go into particulars; whatever
fluid occurs to you set it down. He will drink anything that is fluid,
except European coffee."

"Very good. As to quantity?"

"Put it down five to fifteen barrels--his thirst varies; his other
appetites do not."

"These things are unusual. They ought to furnish quite good clues toward
tracing him."

He touched the bell.

"Alaric; summon Captain Burns."

Burns appeared. Inspector Blunt unfolded the whole matter to him, detail
by detail. Then he said in the clear, decisive tones of a man whose
plans are clearly defined in his head and who is accustomed to command:

"Captain Burns, detail Detectives Jones, Davis, Halsey, Bates, and
Hackett to shadow the elephant."

"Yes, sir."

"Detail Detectives Moses, Dakin, Murphy, Rogers, Tupper, Higgins, and
Bartholomew to shadow the thieves."

"Yes, sir."

"Place a strong guard--A guard of thirty picked men, with a relief of
thirty--over the place from whence the elephant was stolen, to keep
strict watch there night and day, and allow none to approach--except
reporters--without written authority from me."

"Yes, sir."

"Place detectives in plain clothes in the railway; steamship, and ferry
depots, and upon all roadways leading out of Jersey City, with orders to
search all suspicious persons."

"Yes, sir."

"Furnish all these men with photograph and accompanying description of
the elephant, and instruct them to search all trains and outgoing
ferryboats and other vessels."

"Yes, sir."

"If the elephant should be found, let him be seized, and the information
forwarded to me by telegraph."

"Yes, sir."

"Let me be informed at once if any clues should be found footprints of
the animal, or anything of that kind."

"Yes, sir."

"Get an order commanding the harbor police to patrol the frontages
vigilantly."

"Yes, sir."

"Despatch detectives in plain clothes over all the railways, north as far
as Canada, west as far as Ohio, south as far as Washington."

"Yes, sir."

"Place experts in all the telegraph offices to listen in to all messages;
and let them require that all cipher despatches be interpreted to them."

"Yes, sir."

"Let all these things be done with the utmost's secrecy--mind, the most
impenetrable secrecy."

"Yes, sir."

"Report to me promptly at the usual hour."

"Yes, Sir."

"Go!"

"Yes, sir."

He was gone.

Inspector Blunt was silent and thoughtful a moment, while the fire in his
eye cooled down and faded out. Then he turned to me and said in a placid
voice:

"I am not given to boasting, it is not my habit; but--we shall find the
elephant."

I shook him warmly by the hand and thanked him; and I felt my thanks,
too. The more I had seen of the man the more I liked him and the more I
admired him and marveled over the mysterious wonders of his profession.
Then we parted for the night, and I went home with a far happier heart
than I had carried with me to his office.


II

Next morning it was all in the newspapers, in the minutest detail. It
even had additions--consisting of Detective This, Detective That, and
Detective The Other's "Theory" as to how the robbery was done, who the
robbers were, and whither they had flown with their booty. There were
eleven of these theories, and they covered all the possibilities; and
this single fact shows what independent thinkers detectives are. No two
theories were alike, or even much resembled each other, save in one
striking particular, and in that one all the other eleven theories were
absolutely agreed. That was, that although the rear of my building was
torn out and the only door remained locked, the elephant had not been
removed through the rent, but by some other (undiscovered) outlet.
All agreed that the robbers had made that rent only to mislead the
detectives. That never would have occurred to me or to any other layman,
perhaps, but it had not deceived the detectives for a moment. Thus, what
I had supposed was the only thing that had no mystery about it was in
fact the very thing I had gone furthest astray in. The eleven theories
all named the supposed robbers, but no two named the same robbers; the
total number of suspected persons was thirty-seven. The various
newspaper accounts all closed with the most important opinion of all
--that of Chief Inspector Blunt. A portion of this statement read as
follows:

The chief knows who the two principals are, namely, "Brick" Daffy
and "Red" McFadden. Ten days before the robbery was achieved he was
already aware that it was to be attempted, and had quietly proceeded
to shadow these two noted villains; but unfortunately on the night
in question their track was lost, and before it could be found again
the bird was flown--that is, the elephant.

Daffy and McFadden are the boldest scoundrels in the profession; the
chief has reasons for believing that they are the men who stole the
stove out of the detective headquarters on a bitter night last
winter--in consequence of which the chief and every detective
present were in the hands of the physicians before morning, some
with frozen feet, others with frozen fingers, ears, and other
members.

When I read the first half of that I was more astonished than ever at the
wonderful sagacity of this strange man. He not only saw everything in
the present with a clear eye, but even the future could not be hidden
from him. I was soon at his office, and said I could not help wishing he
had had those men arrested, and so prevented the trouble and loss; but
his reply was simple and unanswerable:

"It is not our province to prevent crime, but to punish it. We cannot
punish it until it is committed."

I remarked that the secrecy with which we had begun had been marred by
the newspapers; not only all our facts but all our plans and purposes had
been revealed; even all the suspected persons had been named; these would
doubtless disguise themselves now, or go into hiding.

"Let them. They will find that when I am ready for them my hand will
descend upon them, in their secret places, as unerringly as the hand of
fate. As to the newspapers, we must keep in with them. Fame,
reputation, constant public mention--these are the detective's bread and
butter. He must publish his facts, else he will be supposed to have
none; he must publish his theory, for nothing is so strange or striking
as a detective's theory, or brings him so much wonderful respect; we must
publish our plans, for these the journals insist upon having, and we
could not deny them without offending. We must constantly show the
public what we are doing, or they will believe we are doing nothing.
It is much pleasanter to have a newspaper say, 'Inspector Blunt's
ingenious and extraordinary theory is as follows,' than to have it say
some harsh thing, or, worse still, some sarcastic one."

"I see the force of what you say. But I noticed that in one part of your
remarks in the papers this morning you refused to reveal your opinion
upon a certain minor point."

"Yes, we always do that; it has a good effect. Besides, I had not formed
any opinion on that point, anyway."

I deposited a considerable sum of money with the inspector, to meet
current expenses, and sat down to wait for news. We were expecting the
telegrams to begin to arrive at any moment now. Meantime I reread the
newspapers and also our descriptive circular, and observed that our
twenty-five thousand dollars reward seemed to be offered only to
detectives. I said I thought it ought to be offered to anybody who would
catch the elephant. The inspector said:

"It is the detectives who will find the elephant; hence the reward will
go to the right place. If other people found the animal, it would only
be by watching the detectives and taking advantage of clues and
indications stolen from them, and that would entitle the detectives to
the reward, after all. The proper office of a reward is to stimulate the
men who deliver up their time and their trained sagacities to this sort
of work, and not to confer benefits upon chance citizens who stumble upon
a capture without having earned the benefits by their own merits and
labors."

This was reasonable enough, certainly. Now the telegraphic machine in
the corner began to click, and the following despatch was the result:

FLOWER STATION, N. Y., 7.30 A.M.
Have got a clue. Found a succession of deep tracks across a farm
near here. Followed them two miles east without result; think
elephant went west. Shall now shadow him in that direction.
DARLEY, Detective.

"Darley's one of the best men on the force," said the inspector. "We
shall hear from him again before long."

Telegram No. 2 came:

BARKER'S, N. J., 7.40 A.M.
Just arrived. Glass factory broken open here during night, and
eight hundred bottles taken. Only water in large quantity near here
is five miles distant. Shall strike for there. Elephant will be
thirsty. Bottles were empty.
DARLEY, Detective.

"That promises well, too," said the inspector.

"I told you the creature's appetites would not be bad clues."

Telegram No. 3:

TAYLORVILLE, L. I. 8.15 A.M.
A haystack near here disappeared during night. Probably eaten.
Have got a clue, and am off.
HUBBARD, Detective.

"How he does move around!" said the inspector "I knew we had a difficult
job on hand, but we shall catch him yet."

FLOWER STATION, N. Y., 9 A.M.
Shadowed the tracks three miles westward. Large, deep, and ragged.
Have just met a farmer who says they are not elephant-tracks. Says
they are holes where he dug up saplings for shade-trees when ground
was frozen last winter. Give me orders how to proceed.
DARLEY, Detective.

"Aha! a confederate of the thieves! The thing, grows warm," said the
inspector.

He dictated the following telegram to Darley:

Arrest the man and force him to name his pals. Continue to follow
the tracks to the Pacific, if necessary.
Chief BLUNT.

Next telegram:

CONEY POINT, PA., 8.45 A.M.
Gas office broken open here during night and three month; unpaid gas
bills taken. Have got a clue and am away.
MURPHY, Detective.

"Heavens!" said the inspector; "would he eat gas bills?"

"Through ignorance--yes; but they cannot support life. At least,
unassisted."

Now came this exciting telegram:

IRONVILLE, N. Y., 9.30 A.M.
Just arrived. This village in consternation. Elephant passed
through here at five this morning. Some say he went east some say
west, some north, some south--but all say they did not wait to
notice, particularly. He killed a horse; have secure a piece of it
for a clue. Killed it with his trunk; from style of blow, think he
struck it left-handed. From position in which horse lies, think
elephant traveled northward along line Berkley Railway. Has four
and a half hours' start, but I move on his track at once.
HAWES, Detective

I uttered exclamations of joy. The inspector was as self-contained as a
graven image. He calmly touched his bell.

"Alaric, send Captain Burns here."

Burns appeared.

"How many men are ready for instant orders?"

"Ninety-six, sir."

"Send them north at once. Let them concentrate along the line of the
Berkley road north of Ironville."

"Yes, sir."

"Let them conduct their movements with the utmost secrecy. As fast as
others are at liberty, hold them for orders."

"Yes, sir."

"Go!"

"Yes, sir."

Presently came another telegram:

SAGE CORNERS, N. Y., 10.30.
Just arrived. Elephant passed through here at 8.15. All escaped
from the town but a policeman. Apparently elephant did not strike
at policeman, but at the lamp-post. Got both. I have secured a
portion of the policeman as clue.
STUMM, Detective.

"So the elephant has turned westward," said the inspector. "However, he
will not escape, for my men are scattered all over that region."

The next telegram said:

GLOVER'S, 11.15
Just arrived. Village deserted, except sick and aged. Elephant passed
through three-quarters of an hour ago. The anti-temperance mass-meeting
was in session; he put his trunk in at a window and washed it out with
water from cistern. Some swallowed it--since dead; several drowned.
Detectives Cross and O'Shaughnessy were passing through town, but going
south--so missed elephant. Whole region for many miles around in terror
--people flying from their homes. Wherever they turn they meet elephant,
and many are killed.
BRANT, Detective.

I could have shed tears, this havoc so distressed me. But the inspector
only said:

"You see--we are closing in on him. He feels our presence; he has turned
eastward again."

Yet further troublous news was in store for us. The telegraph brought
this:

HOGANSPORT, 12.19.
Just arrived. Elephant passed through half an hour ago, creating
wildest fright and excitement. Elephant raged around streets; two
plumbers going by, killed one--other escaped. Regret general.
O'FLAHERTY, Detective.

"Now he is right in the midst of my men," said the inspector. "Nothing
can save him."

A succession of telegrams came from detectives who were scattered through
New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and who were following clues consisting of
ravaged barns, factories, and Sunday-school libraries, with high
hopes-hopes amounting to certainties, indeed. The inspector said:

"I wish I could communicate with them and order them north, but that is
impossible. A detective only visits a telegraph office to send his
report; then he is off again, and you don't know where to put your hand
on him."

Now came this despatch:

BRIDGEPORT, CT., 12.15.
Barnum offers rate of $4,000 a year for exclusive privilege of using
elephant as traveling advertising medium from now till detectives
find him. Wants to paste circus-posters on him. Desires immediate
answer.
BOGGS, Detective.