“The story of the brute’s reluctance to leave his young friends in England was judiciously spread broadcast here and he became the feature of the circus, whereas otherwise he would probably have attracted only passing attention. It was his own fortuitous conduct and not the superior skill of the showman that made his circus career so profitable. Jumbo was killed by a train at St. Thomas, Ontario, in July, 1885. A dwarf elephant with him escaped injury, and the show made some capital by asserting that the big elephant sacrificed his own life in shielding his small companion. As a matter of fact, he was seized with another fit of unyielding stubbornness and wouldn’t step down an embankment out of an express’s path. He was never south of Louisville or west of Omaha. Matthew Scott was his keeper. He shared not only his bed, but his bread and tobacco with his charge. After the brute’s death he followed the circus wherever it went, and during the winter visited almost daily the preserved skin and bones of his late companion. “There was, of course, a Jumbo II., but he was nowhere near the size of the original beast. Harnessed with electrodes and other apparatus he stood in the middle of the Stadium at the Exposition Grounds at Buffalo, N. Y., on November 9, 1901, and gave the world a practical demonstration that an elephant can take twenty-two hundred volts of electricity with apparent unconcern. If the electric current reached his nerves he manifested no sign of it. Electric wires had been run from the Exposition power house to what was to be Jumbo II.’s death platform, and when the signal was given, twenty-two hundred volts were turned on. It merely tickled the beast. Jumbo II. was unharnessed and taken back to his home in the Midway. Explanations made by the electricians were that the elephant’s hide had the resistance of rubber and formed a non-conductor impervious to electricity. Others said the voltage was not sufficient. He had developed man-killing qualities, but is still alive.