THE ELEPHANT AND ITS KEEPER
The 15th of August 1945
IN A ROTTING OLD WATERMILL deep in the mountains, twenty kilometres from the edge of town, there were living an emaciated elephant that had none of its former majesty, and a man who was so shrivelled that it was impossible to know his age or even his gender.
Too many undernourished people and animals appear in these stories, I know, but it was wartime, after all. There were probably some plump people with glossy skin even at that time, but you never saw them among the regular citizens.
Even now, the rationing system is still nominally in place,* but during the war it was strictly regulated. To begin with everyone was given 350g of rice per day, but in 1945 this was reduced to 320g and wasn’t always just rice but contained defatted soybeans, normally used as fertilizer, or the corn or wheat bran meant for chicken feed. So children and grown-ups all went hungry year round, and looked like death warmed up.
When there isn’t enough food for people, then there certainly isn’t enough to fatten up the cows and pigs and other livestock destined for human stomachs, much less for dogs and cats. From about 1941, such beloved pets began disappearing off the streets, and the zoos began asking families to let them have their vegetable peelings and used tea leaves for the animals. Photos appeared in the newspaper of a hippopotamus that would normally have eaten a whole cabbage sticking its muzzle into tea leaves, and lions that would normally fight over pieces of beef instead contemplating some lumps of frozen whale.
Even so, they could still get by. In April 1943, however, there was no longer any doubt that there would soon be air raids on the Japanese mainland, and nobody could say what might happen then. The animals were normally docile, but they might be so traumatized by the ear-splitting explosions and resulting fires and smoke that they would break out of their cages and run away. With bombs dropping from the sky and feral animals on the loose on the ground, it really would be like hell on earth. And so it was decided to dispose of all the animals that might pose a danger to people and livestock, such as the tigers, polar bears, leopards, lions, black bears, hyenas, brown bears, Indian elephants, crocodiles, lynxes and emus.
“Our lion is already old, his eyes are bad and he’s missing some teeth. He’ll be lucky to live another year.”
“Same with the crocodile. It was cold this winter, and he’s getting really weak. He’s right off his food, too. He’ll go soon enough without any help from anyone.”
All the keepers of the various animals tried hard to avoid having to kill the ones in their care. And the animals themselves, now that they were being fed only a third of what they needed, and not the type of food they were accustomed to, all lay listless in their cages. Even if there was an air raid, they didn’t look as if they had enough energy to run away, let alone go on the rampage.
Not only that, but the children still loved coming to visit them despite their sorry state. Imports of rubber from the tropics were no longer reaching Japan, so there were no more balls to play with, or sports shoes, and not many toys or books either, so going to see the animals in the zoo was one of the few pleasures left to them.
“We can’t take away their only enjoyment from them. If it comes to the worst and there’s an air raid, I’ll take responsibility for not letting the tiger run riot.”
“How about moving the zoo to the mountains? They’ll have berries and grass to eat, too.”
But whatever they said, it all fell on deaf ears. The truth was that the military had issued the order mainly in order to shock the nation. In 1943 everyone still believed Japan was winning the war, and however much the military warned about impending air raids, nobody really believed them. After all, the authorities had been continually ramming home the message: “We will never allow a single enemy plane to enter our airspace,” which made it even harder for them now to admit they were actually losing.
And so they decided to sacrifice the zoo animals, since they weren’t really needed anyway. Once the people heard that the lions and the elephant had been killed, they would have to face up to the fact that the situation was really desperate. Also, they could use the death of the animals to inflame the people’s hatred for the enemy, since ultimately the enemy was to blame. That would help to deflect criticism from themselves once the air raids started.
Given the many motives behind the decision, it was hardly surprising the zookeepers didn’t get anywhere with their protests. In August 1943 an article appeared in the newspapers announcing that the animals at Ueno Zoo in Tokyo had been disposed of, and soon afterwards the regional zoos reluctantly followed suit.
Although they were referred to as wild animals, actually they were quite used to humans, and more than a few of them even performed tricks. The keepers thought of them as their own children. And surely there was nothing more pitiful to behold than starving animals without the means to hunt for their own food.
“How are we going to kill them?”
“Poison would be best, wouldn’t it?”
“They say nicotine is toxic for snakes.”
They spent days debating this, but since none of them wanted to go ahead with the task at hand they couldn’t come to any decision.
By the end of 1943, the zoo that was home to the elephant still hadn’t obeyed the order, but at length the military issued them a final notice warning them that if they delayed any longer they would dispatch someone to shoot the animals.
The keepers prepared a last dinner for the animals, giving up their families’ own rations to provide a choice feast. Unaware what was afoot, the leopard purred in delight as it sunk its teeth into a chicken, the black bear enjoyed some walnuts and the lynx some mice. All the food contained sleeping pills.
Having researched the subject, the zoo director had decided the method that would cause least suffering was strangulation. However, they didn’t have anyone who could use a lasso. Therefore they would first put the animals to sleep so they could place a noose around their necks, then tie both ends of the rope to the lowest bars on the cages. When the medicine wore off and the lion and the leopard gave a big yawn and hauled themselves to their feet, the noose around their necks would tighten, and when they tried to free themselves it would tighten even further. This would avoid causing any external wounds so that the zoo would be able to preserve them in all their beauty by stuffing them. And it worked. Practically all the animals struggled at most for just three minutes before losing consciousness. The longest was the polar bear, which took ten minutes.
As soon as the animals died their glossy fur coats instantly faded, and the only beautiful thing about them was the reflection of the clear winter sky in their wide-open eyes. And as it happened, the taxidermist had just been called up and sent on the double to the front, so in the end they couldn’t be stuffed. The zoo director therefore dug a hole in the mountain behind the town and buried them there, leaving a marker so that at least they would be able to retrieve their skeletons.
The only exception to this whole scenario was the elephant. They had tried putting a noose around its neck, but it either snapped it with its prodigious strength, or was smart enough to slip it off. All they could do was let it die of starvation. It ate more than any of the other animals and must have been the hungriest on such meagre rations, so the zoo director thought it would probably die within a week with no food.
The only animals now left in the zoo were the hogs, sheep, monkeys and birds, as well as the elephant now chained up in what appeared to be a pleasant, sunny spot. However, it was so hungry that it could barely remain standing. No visitors came, of course, and even its keeper didn’t show up. It wondered what on earth it had done to deserve such treatment.
What had happened to the man who had always come every day whatever the weather, to clean its hut, feed it, check its health and take care of it, make sure it didn’t catch cold, and stay with it day and night if it had stomach problems to ensure it wasn’t too hot or too cold? How come he hadn’t shown up for the l
ast three or four days? It was terrible to be feeling so hungry, but it was even worse to be without the very person it had grown so fond of. And what about that irritating hyena that had made so much noise with its cackles? And the tiger that roared? It hadn’t heard them for a while, either. The elephant felt as though everybody had abandoned it, and tears trickled down its face.
Suddenly it heard the excited voices of children playing and it eagerly stood up on its shaky hind legs, straining to see. But those merry sounds had been carried on the wind from a distant park and soon faded. Then it caught sight of its keeper in the distance and tried weakly to do a trick for him, but the man who had always smiled at its efforts just looked as if he had seen a ghost and ran off as fast as his legs could carry him.
The keeper had been the one to teach the elephant tricks. They had been in a circus together, but in 1940 the circus had broken up and they had both been taken in by the zoo. The elephant had been terrified when being taught tricks and wondered why on earth it had to do such things, but after all it had been sold to the circus soon after birth, and its keeper was like a mother to it. If only they could be together again, even for just a moment, thought the elephant. It knew it had been sentenced to death even though nobody had told it so.
It had no idea what had happened, but it was clear it didn’t have much longer to live. If only it could feel its keeper’s hand stroking its body or scratching its ear just one more time, it thought. Unable to stand any longer, it sat down. It was dozing off, almost losing consciousness, when suddenly it felt its head being patted. Normally its hearing was sharp even when fast asleep, but it was so weak it hadn’t been aware of anyone approaching.
“Shhh!” the keeper said to stop it from trumpeting for joy in its surprise. Without a word, he took out some potatoes, dried bananas, vegetables and peanuts from his rucksack, and emptied out some straw that he’d wrapped up in a cloth, and indicated the elephant should eat. The elephant shook its trunk in pleasure. Of course it wasn’t enough, but it hadn’t been given such nourishing food for three or four years. Feeling energized, it started doing tricks for the keeper, standing first on its hind legs, then on its front legs, but the keeper just told it, “No need for that now,” and looked away. He started picking up the pieces of straw left by the elephant, not leaving a single one. “I’ll be back soon, so stay well,” he said as he rushed off.
The keeper came every other night, sneaking in like a thief to bring the elephant food. The elephant regained its health, but the zoo director grew suspicious. “This is very odd. A month has gone by and the elephant should have died of starvation by now. But its skin is looking healthier than ever!” So he posted a lookout at night, and the keeper was soon found out.
“Look, it has to die anyway, and you’re just prolonging its suffering. The poor thing is hungry all the time,” the zoo director told him.
“Okay,” the keeper said. “Just let me spend one more night with it. After tomorrow morning I promise I won’t set foot here ever again.”
He loaded some straw, vegetable scraps and various other bits and pieces for the elephant onto a handcart, and brought it to the zoo. For the first time in ages the elephant ate its fill and enjoyed some quality time with its keeper, and fell into a deeply satisfied sleep. In the middle of the night, though, the keeper roused it, saying, “Wake up! We have to get out of here,” his voice tense. He had already removed the chains from its feet, and now placed a heavy load on its back. “Let’s escape to the mountains. I found the perfect hiding place for us. There’s plenty of grass there too, and a clean stream nearby.”
He pulled the sleepy elephant out of its shed, and led it through the pitch-black streets. Despite their efforts to tread stealthily, the elephant was so big that each step thudded heavily on the ground. Nevertheless, the blackout order was in place and no light at all was allowed to spill outside, so the grey elephant blended into the darkness. Even if you were right next to it you wouldn’t see it.
They climbed a long slope to a mountain path, and when the path petered out the elephant simply carried on with the keeper on its back telling it where to go, walking on and on until first light. At length they reached a flat clearing surrounded on three sides by mountains. It had once been pasture, but all the farmhands had been sent off to the war and their horses and cows appropriated by the government, and not a soul was living here now.
There was only a crumbling hay barn and a shed that provided shelter from the elements. “What do you think? It’s cold now, but once spring comes you will have plenty of fresh grass to eat, and nobody will come looking for us all the way out here,” the keeper said, selecting some of the more edible-looking bits of stale hay and giving them to the elephant. Then he unpacked the baggage, taking out the pots and pans, bowls, earthen charcoal brazier and food that he’d brought along for himself.
The elephant had only ever lived in a confined space, first in the circus and then in the zoo, and to begin with was disoriented by the sheer size of the pasture. Once accustomed to it, though, it dashed around this way and that, surprised at its own speed. It had only ever plodded along before now! When the first signs of spring came, it was as if a great feast was spread all around with new leaf buds and fresh grass, unlike the dry straw it was used to. Even the birdsong was different, and sounded much clearer.
While the elephant frolicked innocently, the keeper was ever vigilant of what was happening around them. After all, if it ever became known that an elephant was grazing in the mountains, there would be an almighty ruckus. And the elephant was very visible. Deer, monkeys and bears could all run into the trees where they would be safe, but there wasn’t anywhere the elephant could hide.
Early summer brought wild strawberries, and fireflies hovering around the stream. The elephant flourished during height of summer and grew so plump that even the zoo director wouldn’t have recognized it. The keeper, on the other hand, had grown thin. He had somehow managed to make the food he’d brought with him last until spring, but since then he had been eating the same things as the elephant. It was a pity he hadn’t brought any seeds with him, but he couldn’t go back to the town now. There was no need for elephant-keepers in the war effort and he’d been ordered to work in a munitions factory. He was effectively a deserter, and if he showed his face in town he would quickly be apprehended by either the military or civilian police.
He dug up mountain yams and kudzu roots, picked fruit from the trees and stored away enough to tide both himself and the elephant over the coming winter. There was little chance of getting any meat or fish. Sometimes a deer would appear by the stream, but he couldn’t bring himself to kill and eat it, and so he lacked essential nutrients.
Autumn passed and winter came. This winter the snowfall was heavier than usual all over the country, and the old pasture soon turned completely white. The elephant was excited at first, but it had been born in a tropical country and, with frostbite on its trunk and feet, was soon bored with it and spent the winter months shut up in the shed day and night with its keeper. The keeper used the elephant’s trunk as a pillow, while its big ears served as a quilt so that he could sleep quite snugly. When he dried the elephant’s dung it burned nicely in place of charcoal.
The elephant gazed out reproachfully at the snow, longing for spring and tasty fresh grass. But the keeper was thinking that once the snow melted they should move to somewhere new. The war seemed to be intensifying and before long the townspeople would venture deeper into the mountains to collect firewood, schoolchildren would be sent out digging for pine roots, and soldiers would begin making encampments, so they wouldn’t be able to relax any more.
At the first signs of spring, therefore, the keeper roused his emaciated body and started making preparations for the move, waiting impatiently for the snow to melt so that they could be on their way. The elephant bulldozed its way easily through the thickets and forests, but they could not find any grassy clearings where they could stay for more than a few days. They had
no idea what direction they were walking in, and they once inadvertently returned to the town only to find the whole place had been burnt to the ground and nobody was in sight. They wandered around the ruins for a while, but even had they come across anyone they probably wouldn’t have been all that surprised at the odd sight of an elephant with its keeper. There were plenty of even more bizarre things going on in Japan at the time.
However, as the days passed, the elephant grew thinner and weaker, until eventually it no longer had the strength to carry the keeper on its back. Half dead, they wandered aimlessly day in day out, until eventually they arrived at the crumbling old watermill. The keeper didn’t even have the energy to talk, and lay down exhausted. The elephant, too, had lost its flesh and looked more like a deflated balloon. It could still walk, though, and desperately searched the area for food to bring to the keeper, even though he refused to eat it now. The elephant wished it could give him what little flesh it still had. If only it could cut off its soft trunk and get him to eat it, maybe he would become well again! It tried entertaining him with the tricks it had learnt from him, but every time it did this the keeper just said with a smile, “That’s enough, you’ll just wear yourself out. But thank you anyway.”
The war ended on 15th August 1945. The elephant and its keeper would probably have been a hit in peacetime Japan, with no other elephant in the whole country. But then the elephant noticed that the keeper had died, and knew it didn’t have long itself. It picked up the keeper’s feather-light body, placed it on its back and weakly set off once more.
* The story was first published in 1975 and the rationing of rice continued until 1982.
A SOLDIER’S FAMILY
The Cake Tree in the Ruins Page 7