The Stolen White Elephant

THE STOLEN WHITE ELEPHANT
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