ROGUE ELEPHANTS.
The popular opinion concerning the elephant is, that it is treacherous,
quick to avenge an insult, and possesses a specially retentive memory
regarding injuries received. This is an exaggeration: when compared to
other animals, the elephant excels in its good qualities. Vices are found
only in exceptional cases; the average males being, as a rule, safe,
and not susceptible to sudden changes of temper; while the females are
particularly mild and gentle. Sanderson says, “Among hundreds that I have
known, only two have had any tricks. One of these would not allow herself
to be ridden by a strange mahout, and the other had a great aversion to
any natives but her own two attendants approaching her.”
In the management of these animals, strict discipline always has to be
maintained. Mr. P. T. Barnum tells me, that while his herd of twenty
or more are treated with the greatest kindness, yet fear is the secret
of their obedience. The keeper never relaxes his power over them; and,
if not in sight, the steel hook and pointer of their trainer, though,
perhaps, concealed, is always at hand, and ready for use. Even the most
gentle elephants, particularly the males, are liable in confinement to
outbursts of fury; becoming ungovernable, and doing great damage before
they can be subdued or killed.
Without warning, an elephant, which for years had been a quiet and
docile member of the East Indian commissariat stud, became possessed
of a veritable demon, broke loose, and fled trumpeting to the woods.
For many weeks, it was a constant terror to the entire country in the
vicinity;—rushing into villages, destroying houses; and, before it was
killed, thirty-five human beings fell victims to its fury.
Such instances are comparatively rare; and it should be said to the
credit of the elephant, that while it is really the king of beasts, and
capable of greater destruction than any in India, it has less casualties
laid to its door than any so-called dangerous animal. The following table
indicates this more plainly, and shows the number of persons and domestic
animals destroyed by wild mammals in India during the year 1875, the
numbers being about the same every year:—
DOMESTIC ANIMALS
ANIMALS. PERSONS KILLED. KILLED.
Elephant 61 6
Tiger 828 12,423
Leopard 187 16,157
Bears 84 522
Wolves 1,061 9,407
Hyenas 68 2,116
The Philadelphia elephant Dom, who was named in honor of Dom Pedro of
Brazil, occasionally gave way to fits of rage, became unmanageable; and
people flocked to the garden to see it disciplined. This consisted of
securing each foot at a time, and hauling them apart by strong tackles,
so that the huge beast was utterly powerless.
Travelling around the country seems to irritate elephants, and reports
are often seen of their outbursts of rage. The famous Chief, owned by
Robinson, became enraged at Charlotte, N.C., a few years ago, and,
without the slightest warning, killed its keeper. The latter was
attempting to illustrate to the audience how the elephant climbed into
the special car provided for it, when the animal lost its patience, and
hurled the unfortunate man against the car with terrific force, killing
him before the very eyes of the people.
Tom, the pet elephant of the Duke of Edinburgh, who was brought from
India in 1870 in H. R. H’s yacht, “Galatea,” killed its keeper in very
much the same way.
The greatest elephant panic ever seen in this country was that created
by Barnum’s Emperor, who suddenly developed all the characteristics
of a rogue, while the circus was exhibiting in Troy, N.Y. The trouble
commenced when an attempt was made to drive Emperor and Jumbo to the
train. The former had decided objections to continuing the tour; and he
suddenly bolted, and shuffled furiously up the street in the direction
of the iron-foundery of Erastus Corning. The large door being open, the
excited animal rushed in, and in a moment was trampling upon the red-hot
coal and metal, uttering fierce shrieks. And now utterly enraged and mad,
he rushed from the building into the crowded streets, trampling upon men,
hurling others down an embankment with his trunk, breaking one man’s leg
in his flight, throwing another twenty feet into the air, while a woman
was taken from the stoop of a house and hurled into the street. In fact,
the demon of rage seemed to possess the huge creature, that ran amuck
until he had destroyed four thousand dollars’ worth of property.
Another rogue elephant was Romeo, owned by the Forepaugh Company, who
died in Chicago in 1872, having killed three men, and destroyed property
valued at fifty thousand dollars.
Almost equally vicious was Mr. Barnum’s Albert. This elephant killed its
keeper at Keene, N.H.; and, after being loaded with chains, it was led
out into the woods, followed by a large crowd, and a company of Keene
riflemen. Its trainer, Arstinstall, marked the location of the heart
upon the dark hide of the unsuspecting giant; and at the word, the great
animal fell.
These fits of frenzy are sometimes periodic, and the elephant is then
said to be _must_, or mad. The paroxysms vary in different animals.
Some are lethargic, or sleepy; while others go mad, and endeavor to
wreak vengeance upon any thing within reach. In the chapter on the
anatomy of the elephant, reference is made to a pore in the temple of
the animal; and, when expert elephant-men see an oily liquid exuding
from this orifice, they accept it as a warning that the period of _must_
is approaching; the elephant is immediately shackled, and keepers and
strangers are warned to keep out of reach.
After this secretion has flowed for a while, the temples swell, and the
animal is avoided by every one; its food being tossed at it, or pushed
toward it on the end of a pole. If, during this time, the elephant
escapes, destruction of human life is almost sure to follow. They attack
every living creature, including their own kind. Sanderson says, “I
once saw one of our tuskers, which was then only under suspicion of an
approaching fit, break away from the control of his mahout, as he was
being ridden to water, and, despite severe punishment, attack, knock
down, another elephant near by; and, had his tusks not been cut, he
would, without doubt, have killed her on the spot. He was at last driven
off by spears thrown at his trunk and head. Then he stalked across the
open plain with his mahout on his neck, fury in his eye, master of all he
surveyed, and evidently courting battle from any created being. The men
had a difficult and dangerous task to secure him. His hind-legs were at
last tied from behind the trunk of a tree, near which he stood; and the
mahout having drawn up a chain by a cord, and secured it around his neck,
he was moored fore and aft. I shall never forget the mahout’s fervent
ejaculation of ‘Allah! Allah!’ as he slipped over the elephant’s tail
when he was made fast.” According to Mr. Sanderson, the flow of _must_ is
observed in both male and female elephants, but never in the tame females.
Besides the elephants which are supposed to have bad tempers, and
occasionally exhibit them, there are certain animals which are by nature
ugly, and more or less untrustworthy. These are called rogues, and by
some, from their seeming love of a solitary life, “solitaries.” The
rogue elephants, or solitaries, are popularly supposed to be soured
individuals, who have been driven from a herd by rivals or companions;
but this is a mistake, as investigation has shown that supposed
solitaries were often old tuskers grazing some distance from a herd.
Certain elephants undoubtedly prefer a solitary life: but the so-called
solitar is generally a young male who has not been able to assert his
position in the herd, and is grazing along the outskirts; or is an old
and bold tusker, who wanders about careless of its safety.
All seemingly isolated elephants are looked upon with suspicion, as, when
met, they often rush to the attack, and prove dangerous enemies. The real
rogue is usually a vicious tusker, such as _Mandla_, an elephant that was
owned near Jubbulpore, Central Provinces. This brute was supposed to be
mad, and, in 1875, suddenly developed a taste for human victims,—rushing
at them at sight, attacking houses, or any object that excited its ire,
and ultimately killing a large number of persons. This monster not only
killed its victims, but is said to have eaten them, tearing the bodies
limb from limb, and was known before its death as the man-eater. This
is probably an exaggeration; the fact being, that the elephant took the
victim in its mouth while it tore him in pieces, the demoralized natives
thinking that it was eating him. An organized hunt was made for this
elephant, and it was finally killed by two English officers.
A few years ago elephants in various parts of India, especially about
Morlay, became so fearless, that they entered fields adjoining the towns,
and did great damage; some, showing the disposition of the typical rogue,
could hardly be driven away. In one case in India, a number of Oopligas
drove a herd into the hills with their horns and tomtoms; and, a heavy
rain coming on, they thought it hardly necessary to keep up the guard, so
retired from the field. In the morning, they found that a valuable lot
of the Indian maize (_Sorghum vulgare_) had been destroyed, the entire
herd returning as soon as the noise had ceased. Mr. Sanderson caught this
entire herd in 1874.
About thirty years before the man-eating elephant was heard of, a male
rogue elephant created great devastation in the fields of the Morlayites.
It was continually breaking into their rice; but one morning, being
seen near a village, the entire population turned out, and with hue and
cry gave chase. The rogue, who was also a coward, dashed away, rushing
blindly into a marsh, or morass, and soon sank to its knees in soft mud,
and was almost completely at the mercy of the pursuers. They surrounded
it, and rained stones and other missiles upon it; and finally, one
native, more revengeful and cruel than the others, threw some lighted
straw upon the poor creature’s back. The terrible wounds seemed to
spur it to greater exertions; and it finally escaped, and ultimately
recovered, being often seen and recognized by its scars.
Sanderson mentions two tuskers which travelled about together, “twin
solitaries.” They were extremely vicious, had killed people, and were
finally proscribed by the government. One of the tuskers was killed
by Mr. Sanderson in 1870. Referring to rogue elephants which he had
observed, he says, “I had just finished dinner, and was enjoying a smoke
before a blazing camp-fire, which lit to their topmost branches a pair
of magnificent tamarind-trees, under which my tent was pitched, when
I heard a distant shout of ‘Ánay!’ (elephants). At once, lights began
to flit over the plain, moving towards one point; tomtoms were beaten,
and rattles made from split bamboo sounded. An elephant trumpeted
shrilly, the men yelled in defiance, till the intruders retreated to the
jungle. The cover bordering on cultivation was so dense as to afford
secure shelter to elephants close at hand, even during the day. After
some little time, when the tomtomming and noise had ceased, a similar
commotion took place at another point: again the Will-o’-the-wisp lights
moved forward, with a repetition of the shouting and trumpeting. The
villagers who were keeping up my camp-fire told me that it was only on
occasional nights that the elephants visited cultivation. The watchers
were evidently in for it now, and they became thoroughly alert at all
points.
“Once the elephants came within two hundred yards of my camp; and, long
after I went to bed, I heard the shouting and rattling of the watchers.
These men were the Strolagas from the hills: they were hired annually for
a month or two, at a fixed payment in grain, for watching their crops, by
the low-country cultivators, who are themselves less able to stand the
exposure on a rice-flat, and less bold in interfering with elephants.
The watchers provide themselves with torches of light split bamboos in
bundles, about eight feet long, and eight inches in diameter. These are
lighted at one end, when required, and make a famous blaze. Armed with
them, the men sally forth to the spot where the elephants are feeding.
Some carry the torches; the others precede them, so as to have the light
behind them. The elephants can be seen on open ground one hundred yards,
should they wait to let the lights get so close. Some troublesome rogues
get beyond caring for this; though the men are very bold, and approach
within forty or fifty yards. Natives have often told me of particular
elephants letting them get within a few yards, and then putting their
trunks into their mouths, and withdrawing water, squirting it at the
lights. I hardly need say that the latter part of the statement is purely
imaginary; the idea doubtless arising from the attitude elephants often
assume when in uncertainty or perplexity, putting the trunk into the
mouth, and holding the tip gently between the lips.”
The large area of rice-fields on the bed of the Honganoor Lake was
assessed long ago at one-third the usual rates, on account of the
depredations of elephants. Mr. Sanderson adds, however, that the actual
damage done to crops by elephants is much less than popularly supposed.
In capturing wild elephants, numbers of tuskers which have escaped, often
follow the herd, and wander about the camps at night. On one occasion, a
large female charged a tame elephant and rider. The latter was warned by
a native, and slipped around his elephant’s neck just in time to save his
life; but the jaws of the old rogue struck his thigh, and she endeavored
to crush him with her single tusk. He drove his goad into her mouth, when
she drew off, and came on again at full speed. The rider again dodged
over his elephant’s neck, and a second time the single tusk struck his
leg. This was repeated several times; and the rider, whose elephant was
in the midst of a herd of wild ones in a corral, was in despair, when
one of his assistants hurled a spear, striking the rogue in the head. A
moment later, the latter’s elephant struck her a terrific blow, head on,
almost knocking her over, and completely turning the scales.
Tame tuskers, under the direction of a mahout, soon outwit wild elephants
in a battle. Females rarely fight among themselves; but, when they do,
their spite is vented upon one another in a ludicrous and aggravating
manner, by biting off each other’s tails.
Sanderson had a singular adventure with a rogue elephant who attempted
to enter his tent at night. He started to his feet, first seeing his
tent rip, and, on looking out, discovered that a wild elephant was
tearing it with its tusks. The next day, it was found torn in two, with
two tusk-holes in it. The next night a guard of men and a tame elephant
was established; but at midnight, he was awakened by feeling the tent
shake. Leaping to his feet, he looked out, saw the men asleep, and the
tame elephant some distance off. While he stood, there came a crash, and
the small tent fell in; when he found that probably the same elephant
was investigating again; but, before he could clear himself from the
canvas, it had made off, startled by the noise. The attack was probably
made out of mere curiosity, or, perhaps, in a spirit of mischief. They
have been known to trample down embankments, overturn telegraph-poles,
haul up surveying-pins; and once, when a surveying-party left their chain
overnight in a jungle, it could be heard jingling occasionally, the
elephants evidently being pleased with the sound it made.
A famous rogue elephant for months devastated the country about
Kákankoté. It first destroyed the crops; and gradually becoming bolder
and bolder, it finally actually took possession of a strip of the
country about eight miles long, including a part of the main road
between Mysore and the Wynaad. No one dared to travel in the road; the
monster charging every one, finally killing two natives. This aroused
the populace; and the amildár, or native official, appealed to the
government elephant-keeper for protection. A few days later, he was on
the ground, and, with a party of Kurrabas trackers, was ready to slay the
rogue. So great was the alarm, that the hunter found native policemen
at the entrance of the jungle, to warn travellers of the elephant; and
all who went through were preceded by natives, who, with tomtoms and
other instruments, endeavored to frighten the brute, who was well known
to every one by his large size, black color, and peculiar, up-curved,
short tusks. For several days the professional hunter followed the great
animal, and came up with him; but, by an unfortunate stampede, he lost
him, and the hunt had to be given up for the time. Five months later it
was renewed: and, after a long chase, the rogue was found in a bamboo
thicket; then, after waiting for a fair shot, the hunter tired a heavy
bullet, putting it just behind the shoulder.
For a second, there was a deathly silence, then, with a terrific scream,
the monster dashed away; and the men, in full pursuit, were soon covered
with blood that flowed from the wounds. The rogue ran for two hundred
yards, and, when the Kurrabas came upon him, presented a terrible
appearance. He was facing his foes, his trunk doubled, head elevated, and
blood rushing from his mouth; yet the animal’s eyes were gleaming with
fury, and it was ready to sell its life dearly. The hunter fired with a
four-bore rifle; the bullet penetrating the brain, and killing him upon
the spot. As the huge creature rolled over, the men crawled upon its
upper side, which was six feet from the grass. The head and feet were
taken; the former being placed on the main road for some time, to inform
the natives that the end of the rogue had come.
The tusks of this elephant were small, being ten inches in circumference
at the gum, and weighed twenty-two and a half pounds, curving up in a
curious way.
Capt. Dunlop, of the British army, refers to a rogue elephant in the
Doon, named Gunesh. It was the property of the government, but escaped,
and for years caused a reign of terror in the country. It had a chain
upon its leg, and the clank of this in the jungle near a village
demoralized the entire populace. For fifteen years this brute wandered
about, destroying rice-fields; and, during that time, it killed over
fifteen persons.
Another rogue followed a courier of the English postal service, and
trampled him to death.
While the canal of Beejapore was being made, a rogue elephant charged
upon the men from some bushes, and seized one; then, pressing the body
under its ponderous feet, the fiend deliberately pulled away the upper
portion of it, and with a remnant in its trunk ran back into the bush.
Some woodmen engaged in cutting trees in the jungle about Chandnee-Doon,
had an almost identical experience. One day three of them remained at
home; while, during the day, one of the men went to a neighboring spring
to draw some water. As he did not return, one of his companions went
after him; and that evening they were both found dead, their bones being
crushed and broken. The rogue had seized and thrown them to the ground,
crushing them by a tread of its ponderous foot.
In Ceylon, the rogue is called a _hora_, or _ronkedor_; the Singhalese,
according to Tennent, believing it to be an individual that has either
lost its associates by accident, and, from its solitary life, become
morose and savage; or a naturally vicious individual, that, being more
daring, has separated itself from its companions. Whatever may be the
reason for the savage temper exhibited by these solitary brutes, they
constitute a characteristic of elephant life, and, in Ceylon, seem to
possess the same likes and dislikes that mark the African and Asiatic
rogues.
More daring than the peacefully disposed elephants, they come out of the
jungle at night, and prowl around the towns and villages, trampling down
cultivated tracts, devouring the standing rice and young cocoa-palms,
becoming so bold in some places, that one has been known to enter a
field, and seize a sheaf from a pile in the very midst of a party of
workers, who fled in terror. As a rule, however, they remain concealed by
day, committing their depredations by night. In some sections, as the low
country of Badulla, the villagers build moats or ditches about their huts
to protect themselves from the rogues.
Certain localities seem to be infested by these creatures. Thus, in 1847,
a dangerous rogue frequented the Rangbodde Pass on a mountain road, that
led to the Sanitarium at Neuera-ellia, and demoralized the entire country
so that people were afraid to undertake the pass unless in numbers. Its
method of attack was to seize natives, as it did a Caffre of the Caffre
Corps of pioneers, with its trunk, and beat the victim to death against
the bank.
Some years ago a native trader and party were travelling near
Idalgasinna, when they suddenly heard the shrill trumpeting of a rogue.
The entire company took to their heels; the coolies casting away their
goods, and making for the jungle. The trader himself hid behind a large
rock, and saw the elephant seize one of the coolies, and, after carrying
him a short distance, dash him to the ground, and trample upon him; then
turning to the goods they carried, he tore them in pieces, after which he
walked into the jungle. This elephant was a noted rogue, and in its time
destroyed the lives of a number of people. He was finally killed by an
English sportsman.
A native made a statement to a Singhalese gentleman, who in turn imparted
the information to Sir Emerson Tennent, that once, when he was on his way
to Badulla, and walking around a hill, a large elephant rushed upon his
party without warning, trumpeting loudly. In a moment, he had seized the
native’s companion, who, it happened, was in the rear, and killed him by
hurling him to the ground. Dropping the first victim, he then seized the
narrator of the incident, and hurled him aloft with such force that he
landed in the branches of a cahata-tree, and lodged there, thus escaping
with only a dislocation of the wrist. The elephant returned to the body
upon the ground, and tore it limb from limb, mutilating it as much as
possible.
Rogue elephants in Ceylon are often very mischievous. In some sections,
the tracing-pegs that have been put down by surveyors during one day,
are pulled up the next by elephants. Rogues, like other elephants, are
very suspicious. Col. Hardy, at one time deputy quartermaster-general in
Ceylon, was travelling to an outpost in the south-eastern portion of the
island, and one day became lost, and was attacked at dusk by a rogue. He
ran for cover, but was almost caught, when he happened to think of his
dressing-case; and, throwing it down, his pursuer came to an immediate
stand-still, stopping to examine it carefully, while the officer escaped.
Other rogues destroy every thing they can find. In “The Colombo Observer”
of March, 1858, there was a reward of twenty-five guineas offered for
the destruction of an elephant that had taken up its residence in the
Rajawallé coffee-plantation near Kandy. The huge animal terrified the
people for miles about; its plan being, to come out of the jungle at
night, and pull down buildings and trees on the plantation. It seemed to
have an especial spite for the pipes of the water-works, the pillars of
which it tore down; while the tops were all destroyed by this curious
animal, who was finally shot.
Some years ago a rogue elephant was wounded near the town of Hambangtotte
by a native, and followed the latter into the town in a wild race,
catching him in the bazaar in the midst of the town, and trampling him to
death before a crowd of people, then making good its escape.
Often tame elephants, excited by some means, become rogues for the time.
During one of the attempts by the government to capture an entire herd
in Ceylon, a fine tame tusker became intensely excited, and finally, in
a frenzy of rage, broke down the bars of the corral with its head and
tusks, and ran into the jungle. A few days later, its driver went after
it with a decoy; when it approached, he courageously leaped upon the back
of the maddened beast, and with a pair of hooks subdued it, until it was
firmly chained, when it allowed itself to be led away.
That elephants do not easily forget, is shown in case of one that turned
rogue, and escaped to the jungle, and, when recaptured ten years later,
immediately obeyed the mahout’s command to kneel.
That rogue elephants are sometimes the result of inhuman treatment, is
shown in a terrible catastrophe, reported by an Indian correspondent of
“The Pall Mall Gazette” as occurring in April of the present year, in
which seventeen human beings lost their lives, and much valuable property
was destroyed.
“While an elephant was being ridden by its keeper in the District of
Sultanpore, in Oude, the animal resented ‘prodding’ with a spear, by
pulling the man from his back, and throwing him some distance away.
Fortunately the man fell in a hollow, and remained there undiscovered
by the elephant, who went to a neighboring village. There he chased an
old man into a house, then broke down the walls, pulled the man out, and
dashed him to pieces. The same night the elephant knocked down several
houses in quest of human beings, in the villages of Sardapur, Bargaon,
and Jaisingpur. He killed six men in Bersoma, three in Sota, four in
Gaugeo, and four in Mardan. He likewise killed a bullock and a pony, and
also completely destroyed a new carriage. The animal used to stand at the
door of a house, force his entry by demolishing the walls on either side,
and would then kill as many of the inmates as he could, pursuing others
who tried to run away. He mangled the corpses terribly. After securing a
victim, he sometimes returned to the spot to see if life were extinct,
and would commence mutilating the body afresh. He carried several bodies
long distances, and threw them into ravines, etc. The elephant found his
way to the Dehra Rájah’s palace, where he tried to enter the house of a
gardener; but some men mounted on three elephants, assisted by spearmen,
drove him off. He then returned to Bebipur, where he tried to break
down his master’s house, in which several persons had taken refuge. The
police got into the house from a back window, and were obliged to send
for help to the Dehra Rájah, who sent three elephants and some spearmen.
The animal received two gun-shots on the head at Bebipur, which, however,
only temporarily drove him off. He was ultimately captured at imminent
risk, by the rájah’s three elephants and men.”