A tree of twelve inches in diameter resisted successfully the most

strenuous struggles of the largest elephant I ever saw led to it; and

when directed by their keepers to clear away jungle, the removal of

even a small tree or a healthy young coco-nut palm is a matter both

of time and exertion. Hence the services of an elephant are of much

less value in clearing a forest than in dragging and piling felled

timber. But in the latter occupation he manifests an intelligence and

dexterity which is surprising to a stranger, because the sameness of

the operation enables the animal to go on for hours disposing of log

after log, almost without a hint or direction from his attendant.

For example, two elephants employed in piling ebony and satinwood in

the yards attached to the commissariat stores at Colombo, were so

accustomed to their work, that they were able to accomplish it with

equal precision and with greater rapidity than if it had been done by

dock-labourers. When the pile attained a certain height, and they were

no longer able by their conjoint efforts to raise one of the heavy logs

of ebony to the summit, they had been taught to lean two pieces against

the heap, up the incline of which they gently rolled the remaining

logs, and placed them trimly on the top.

It has been asserted that in their occupations “elephants are to a

surprising extent the creatures of habit,”[151] that their movements

are altogether mechanical, and that “they are annoyed by any deviation

from their accustomed practice, and resent any constrained departure

from the regularity of their course.” So far as my own observation

goes, this is incorrect; and I am assured by officers of experience,

that in regard to changing his treatment, his hours or his occupation,

an elephant requires no more consideration than a horse, but exhibits

the same pliancy and facility.

At one point, however, the utility of the elephant stops short. Such is

the intelligence and earnestness he displays in work, which he seems

to conduct almost without supervision, that it has been assumed[152]

that he would continue his labour, and accomplish his given task, as

well in the absence of his keeper as during his presence. But here his

innate love of ease displays itself, and if the eye of his attendant be

withdrawn, the moment he has finished the thing immediately in hand,

he will stroll away lazily, to browse or enjoy the luxury of fanning

himself and blowing dust over his back.

The means of punishing so powerful an animal is a question of

difficulty to his attendants. Force being almost inapplicable, they try

to work on his passions and feelings, by such expedients as altering

the nature of his food or withholding it altogether for a time. On such

occasions the demeanour of the creature will sometimes evince a sense

of humiliation as well as of discontent. In some parts of India it is

customary, in dealing with offenders, to stop their allowance of sugar

canes or of jaggery; or to restrain them from eating their own share

of fodder and leaves till their companions shall have finished; and in

such cases the consciousness of degradation, betrayed by the looks and

attitudes of the culprit, is quite sufficient to identify him, and to

excite a feeling of sympathy and commiseration.

The elephant’s obedience to his keeper is the result of affection,

as well as of fear; and although his attachment becomes so strong

that an elephant in Ceylon has been known to remain out all night,

without food, rather than abandon his mahout, lying intoxicated in

the jungle, yet he manifests little difficulty in yielding the same

submission to a new driver in the event of a change of attendants. This

is opposed to the popular belief that “the elephant cherishes such

an enduring remembrance of his old mahout, that he cannot easily be

brought to obey a stranger.”[153] In the extensive establishments of

the Ceylon Government, the keepers are changed without hesitation, and

the animals, when equally kindly treated, are usually found to be as

tractable and obedient to their new driver as to the old, so soon as

they have become familiarised with his voice.

This is not, however, invariably the case; and Mr. Cripps, who had

remarkable opportunities for observing the habits of the elephant

in Ceylon, mentioned to me an instance in which one of a singularly

stubborn disposition occasioned some inconvenience after the death

of its keeper, by refusing to obey any other, till its attendants

bethought them of a child about twelve years old, in a distant village,

where the animal had been formerly picketed, and to whom it had

displayed much attachment. The child was sent for; and on its arrival

the elephant, as anticipated, manifested extreme satisfaction, and was

managed with ease, till by degrees it became reconciled to the presence

of a new superintendent.

It has been said that the mahouts die young, owing to some supposed

injury to the spinal column from the peculiar motion of the elephant;

but this remark does not apply to those in Ceylon, who are healthy,

and as long-lived as other men. If the motion of the elephant be thus

injurious, that of the camel must be still more so; yet we never hear

of early death ascribed to this cause by the Arabs.

The voice of the keeper, with a very limited vocabulary of articulate

sounds, serves almost alone to guide the elephant in his domestic

occupations.[154] Sir EVERARD HOME, from an examination of the muscular

fibres in the drum of an elephant’s ear, came to the conclusion,

that notwithstanding the distinctness and power of his perception of

sounds at a greater distance than other animals, he was insensible to

their harmonious modulation and destitute of a musical ear.[155] But

Professor HARRISON, in a paper read before the Royal Irish Academy

in 1847, has stated that on a careful examination of the head of an

elephant which he had dissected, he could “see no evidence of the

muscular structure of the _membrana tympani_ so accurately described

by Sir E. HOME.” Sir EVERARD’S deduction, I may observe, is clearly

inconsistent with the fact that the power of two elephants may be

combined by singing to them a measured chant, somewhat resembling a

sailor’s capstan song; and in labour of a particular kind, such as

hauling a stone with ropes, they will thus move conjointly a weight to

which their divided strength would be unequal.[156]

Nothing can more strongly exhibit the impulse to obedience in the

elephant, than the patience with which, at the order of his keeper,

he swallows the nauseous medicines of the native elephant-doctors;

and it is impossible to witness the fortitude with which, without

shrinking, he submits to excruciating surgical operations for the

removal of tumours and ulcers, without conceiving a vivid impression of

his gentleness and intelligence. Dr. DAVY when in Ceylon was consulted

about an elephant in the Government stud, which was suffering from a

deep, burrowing sore in the back, just over the back-bone, and this had

long resisted the treatment ordinarily employed. He recommended the

use of the knife, that vent might be given to the accumulated matter,

but no one of the attendants was competent to undertake the operation.

“Being assured,” he continues, “that the creature would behave well, I

undertook it myself. The elephant was not bound, but was made to kneel

down at his keeper’s command—and with an amputating knife, using all my

force, I made the incision required through the tough integuments. The

elephant did not flinch, but rather inclined towards me when using the

knife; and merely uttered a low, and as it were suppressed, groan. In

short, he behaved as like a human being as possible, as if conscious

(as I believe he was), that the operation was for his good, and the

pain unavoidable.”[157]

Obedience to the orders of his keepers is not, however, to be assumed

as the result of a uniform perception of the object to be attained by

compliance; and we cannot but remember the touching incident which took

place during the slaughter of the elephant at Exeter Change in 1826,

when, after receiving ineffectually upwards of 120 balls in various

parts of his body, he turned his face to his assailants on hearing the

voice of his keeper, and knelt down at the accustomed word of command,

so as to bring his forehead within view of the rifles.[158]

The working elephant is always a delicate animal, and requires

watchfulness and care. As a beast of burden it is unsatisfactory;

for although in point of mere strength there is scarcely any weight

which could be conveniently placed on it that it could not carry,

it is difficult to pack the load without causing abrasions that

afterwards ulcerate. The skin is easily chafed by harness, especially

in wet weather. During either long droughts or too much moisture, an

elephant’s feet become liable to sores, that render it non-effective

for months. Many attempts have been made to provide some protection

for the sole of the foot, but from the extreme weight and the peculiar

mode of planting the foot, they have all been unsuccessful. The eyes

are also liable to frequent inflammations, and the skill of the native

elephant-doctors, which has been renowned since the time of Ælian, is

nowhere more strikingly displayed than in the successful treatment

of such attacks.[159] In Ceylon, the murrain among the cattle is of

frequent occurrence, and carries off great numbers of animals, wild

as well as tame. In such visitations the elephants suffer severely,

not only those at liberty in the forest, but those carefully tended

in the Government stables. Out of a stud of about 40 attached to the

department of the Commission of Roads, the deaths between 1841 and

1849 were on an average _four_ in each year, and this was nearly

doubled in those years when murrain prevailed.

Of 240 elephants, employed in the public departments of the Ceylon

Government, which died in twenty-five years, from 1831 to 1856, the

length of time that each lived in captivity has only been recorded in

the instances of 138. Of these there died:—

Duration of Captivity No. Male Female

Under 1 year 72 29 43

From 1 to 2 years 14 5 9

” 2 ” 3 ” 8 5 3

” 3 ” 4 ” 8 3 5

” 4 ” 5 ” 3 2 1

” 5 ” 6 ” 2 2 ·

” 6 ” 7 ” 3 1 2

” 7 ” 8 ” 5 2 3

” 8 ” 9 ” 5 5 ·

” 9 ” 10 ” 2 2 ·

” 10 ” 11 ” 2 2 ·

” 11 ” 12 ” 3 1 2

” 12 ” 13 ” 3 · 3

” 13 ” 14 ” · · ·

” 14 ” 15 ” 3 1 2

” 15 ” 16 ” 1 1 ·

” 16 ” 17 ” 1 · 1

” 17 ” 18 ” · · ·

” 18 ” 19 ” 2 1 1

” 19 ” 20 ” 1 · 1

Total 133 62 76

Of the 72 who died in one year’s servitude, 35 expired within the first

six months of their captivity. During training, many elephants die

in the unaccountable manner already referred to, of what the natives

designate a _broken heart_.

On being first subjected to work, the elephant is liable to severe and

often fatal swellings of the jaws and abdomen.[160]

From these causes there died, between 1841 and 1849 9

Of cattle murrain 10

Sore feet 1

Colds and inflammation 6

Diarrhœa 1

Worms 1

Of diseased liver 1

Injuries from a fall 1

General debility 1

Unknown causes 3

Of the entire, twenty-three were females and eleven males.

The ages of those that died could not be accurately stated, owing to

the circumstance of their having been captured in corral. Two only were

tuskers. Towards keeping the stud in health, nothing has been found

so conducive as regularly bathing the elephants, and giving them the

opportunity to stand with their feet in water, or in moistened earth.

Elephants are said to be afflicted with tooth-ache; their tushes have

likewise been found with symptoms of internal perforation by some

parasite, and the natives assert that, in their agony, the animals have

been known to break them off short.[161] I have never heard of the

teeth themselves being so affected, and it is just possible that the

operation of shedding and the subsequent decay of the milk-tushes, may

have in some instances been accompanied by incidents that gave rise to

this story. At the same time the probabilities are in favour of its

being true. CUVIER committed himself to the statement that the tusks of

the elephant have no attachments to connect them with the pulp lodged

in the cavity at their base, from which the peculiar modification of

dentine, known as “ivory” is secreted;[162] and hence, by inference,

that they would be devoid of sensation. But independently of the fact

that ivory is permeated by tubes so fine that at their origin from

the pulpy cavity they do not exceed the 1/15000 part of an inch in

diameter, OWEN had the tusk and pulp of the great elephant which died

at the Zoological Gardens in London in 1847 longitudinally divided,

and found that, “although the pulp could be easily detached from the

inner surface of the cavity, it was not without a certain resistance;

and when the edges of the co-adapted pulp and tusk were examined by a

strong lens, the filamentary processes from the outer surface of the

former could be seen stretching, as they were drawn from the dentinal

tubes, before they broke. These filaments are so minute, he adds, that

to the naked eye the detached surface of the pulp seems to be entire;

and hence CUVIER was deceived into supposing that there was no organic

connexion between the pulp and the ivory. But if, as there seems no

reason to doubt, these delicate nervous processes traverse the tusk by

means of the numerous tubes already described, if attacked by caries

the pain occasioned to the elephant would be excruciating.

As to maintaining a stud of elephants for the purposes to which they

are now assigned in Ceylon, there may be a question on the score of

prudence and economy. In the wild and unopened parts of the country,

where rivers are to be forded, and forests are only traversed by

jungle paths, their labour is of value, in certain contingencies,

in the conveyance of stores, and in the earlier operations for the

construction of fords and rough bridges of timber. But in more

highly civilised districts, and wherever macadamised roads admit of

the employment of horses and oxen for draught, I apprehend that the

services of the elephant might, with advantage, be gradually reduced,

if not altogether dispensed with.

The love of the elephant for coolness and shade renders it at all

times more or less impatient of work in the sun, and every moment of

leisure it can snatch is employed in covering its back with dust, or

fanning itself to diminish the annoyance of the insects and heat. From

the tenderness of the skin and its liability to sores, the labour in

which the elephant can most advantageously be employed is that of

draught; but the reluctance of horses to meet or pass them renders it

difficult to work them with safety on frequented roads. Besides, were

the full load which an elephant is capable of drawing, proportionally

to its muscular strength, to be placed upon waggons of corresponding

dimension, the injury to roads from the extra weight would be such

that the wear and tear of the highways and bridges would prove too

costly to be borne. On the other hand, by restricting it to a somewhat

more manageable quantity, and by limiting the weight, as at present, to

about _one ton and a half_, it is doubtful whether an elephant performs

so much more work than could be done by a horse or by bullocks, as to

compensate for the greater cost of his feeding and attendance.

Add to this, that from accidents and other causes, from ulcerations

of the skin, and illnesses of many kinds, the elephant is so often

invalided, that the actual cost of its labour, when at work, is very

considerably enhanced. Exclusive of the salaries of higher officers

attached to the Government establishments, and other permanent

charges, the expenses of an elephant, looking only to the wages of

its attendants and the cost of its food and medicines, varies from

_three shillings to four shillings and sixpence_ per diem, according

to its size and class.[163] Taking the average at three shillings

and nine-pence, and calculating that hardly any individual works

more than four days out of seven, the charge for each day so employed

would amount to _six shillings and sixpence_. The keep per day of a

powerful dray-horse, working five days in the week, would not exceed

half-a-crown, and two such would unquestionably do more work than any

elephant under the present system. I do not know whether it be from a

comparative calculation of this kind that the strength of the elephant

establishments in Ceylon has been gradually diminished of late years,

but in the department of the Commissioner of Roads, the stud, which

formerly numbered upwards of sixty elephants, was reduced, some years

ago, to thirty-six, and is at present less than half that number.

The fallacy of the supposed reluctance of the elephant to breed in

captivity has been demonstrated by many recent authorities; but with

the exception of the birth of young elephants at Rome, as mentioned by

ÆLIAN, the only instances that I am aware of their actually producing

young under such circumstances, took place in Ceylon. Both parents had

been for several years attached to the stud of the Commissioner of

Roads, and in 1844 the female, whilst engaged in dragging a waggon,

gave birth to a still-born calf. Some years before, an elephant

that had been captured by Mr. Cripps, dropped a female calf, which

he succeeded in rearing. As usual, the little one became the pet of

the keepers; but as it increased in growth, it exhibited the utmost

violence when thwarted; striking out with its hind-feet, throwing

itself headlong on the ground, and pressing its trunk against any

opposing object.

The duration of life in the elephant has been from the remotest times a

matter of uncertainty and speculation. Aristotle says it was reputed to

live from two to three hundred years,[164] and modern zoologists have

assigned to it an age very little less; CUVIER[165] allots two hundred

and DE BLAINVILLE[166] one hundred and twenty. The only attempt which I

know of to establish a period historically or physiologically is that

of FLEURENS, who has advanced an ingenious theory on the subject in

his treatise “_De la Longévité Humaine_.” He assumes the sum total of

life in all animals to be equivalent to five times the number of years

requisite to perfect their growth and development;—and he adopts as

evidence of the period at which growth ceases, the final consolidation

of the bones with their _epiphyses_; which in the young consist of

cartilages; but in the adult become uniformly osseous and solid. So

long as the epiphyses are distinct from the bones, the growth of the

animal is proceeding, but it ceases so soon as the consolidation is

complete. In man, according to FLEURENS, this consummation takes

place at 20 years of age, in the horse at 5, in the dog at 2; so that

conformably to this theory the respective normal age for each would be

100 years for man, 25 for the horse, and 10 for a dog. As a datum for

his conclusion, FLEURENS cites the instance of one young elephant in

which, at 26 years old, the epiphyses were still distinct, whereas in

another, which died at 31, they were firm and adherent. Hence he draws

the inference that the period of completed solidification is thirty

years, and consequently that the normal age of the elephant is _one

hundred and fifty_.[167]

Amongst the Singhalese the ancient fable of the elephant attaining

to the age of two or three hundred years still prevails; but the

Europeans, and those in immediate charge of tame ones, entertain the

opinion that the duration of life for about _seventy_ years is common

both to man and the elephant; and that before the arrival of the latter

period, symptoms of debility and decay ordinarily begin to manifest

themselves. Still instances are not wanting in Ceylon of trained

decoys that have lived for more than double the reputed period in

actual servitude. One employed by Mr. Cripps in the Seven Korles was

represented by the cooroowe people to have served the king of Kandy in

the same capacity sixty years before; and amongst the papers left by

Colonel Robertson (son to the historian of “Charles V.”), who held a

command in Ceylon in 1799, shortly after the capture of the island by

the British, I have found a memorandum showing that a decoy was then

attached to the elephant establishment at Matura, which the records

proved to have served under the Dutch during the entire period of their

occupation (extending to upwards of one hundred and forty years); and

it was said to have been found in the stables by the Dutch on the

expulsion of the Portuguese in 1656.

It is perhaps from this popular belief in their almost illimitable age,

that the natives generally assert that the body of a dead elephant

is seldom or never to be discovered in the woods. And certain it is

that frequenters of the forest with whom I have conversed, whether

European or Singhalese, are consistent in their assurances that they

have never found the remains of an elephant that had died a natural

death. One chief, the Wannyah of the Trincomalie district, told a

friend of mine, that once after a severe murrain, which had swept the

province, he found the carcasses of elephants that had died of the

disease. On the other hand, a European gentleman, who for thirty-six

years without intermission has been living in the jungle, ascending

to the summits of mountains in the prosecution of the trigonometrical

survey, and penetrating valleys in tracing roads and opening means of

communication,—one, too, who has made the habits of the wild elephant a

subject of constant observation and study,—has often expressed to me

his astonishment that after seeing many thousands of living elephants

in all possible situations, he had never yet found a single skeleton of

a dead one, except of those which had fallen by the rifle.[168]

It has been suggested that the bones of the elephant may be so porous

and spongy as to disappear in consequence of an early decomposition;

but this remark would not apply to the grinders or to the tusks;

besides which, the inference is at variance with the fact, that not

only the horns and teeth, but entire skeletons of deer, are frequently

found in the districts inhabited by the elephant.

The natives, to account for this popular belief, declare that the

survivors of the herd bury such of their companions as die a natural

death.[169] It is curious that this belief was current also amongst the

Greeks of the Lower Empire; and Phile, writing early in the fourteenth

century, not only describes the younger elephants as tending the

wounded, but as burying the dead:

Ὅταν δ’ ἐπιστῇ τῆς τελευτῆς ὁ χρόνος

Κοινοῦ τέλους ἄμυναν ὁ ξένος φέρει.[170]

The Singhalese have a further superstition in relation to the close

of life in the elephant: they believe that, on feeling the approach

of dissolution, he repairs to a solitary valley, and there resigns

himself to death. A native who accompanied Mr. Cripps, when hunting,

in the forests of Anarajapoora, intimated to him that he was then in

the immediate vicinity of the spot “_to which the elephants come to

die_,” but that it was so mysteriously concealed, that although every

one believed in its existence, no one had ever succeeded in penetrating

to it. At the corral which I have described at Kornegalle, in 1847,

Dehigame, one of the Kandyan chiefs, assured me it was the universal

belief of his countrymen, that the elephants, when about to die,

resorted to a valley in Saffragam, among the mountains to the east of

Adam’s Peak, which was reached by a narrow pass with walls of rock on

either side, and that there, by the side of a lake of clear water,

they took their last repose.[171] It was not without interest that I

afterwards recognised this tradition in the story of _Sinbad of the

Sea_, who in his Seventh Voyage, after conveying the presents of Haroun

al Raschid to the king of Serendib, is wrecked on his return from

Ceylon, and sold as a slave to a master who employs him in shooting

elephants for the sake of their ivory; till one day the tree on which

he was stationed having been uprooted by one of the herd, he fell

senseless to the ground, and the great elephant approaching wound his

trunk around him and carried him away, ceasing not to proceed until

he had taken him to a place where, his terror having subsided, _he

found himself amongst the bones of elephants, and knew that this was

their burial place_.[172] It is curious to find this legend of Ceylon

in what has, not inaptly, been described as the “Arabian Odyssey” of

Sinbad; the original of which evidently embodies the romantic recitals

of the sailors returning from the navigation of the Indian Seas, in

the middle ages,[173] which were current amongst the Mussulmans, and

are reproduced in various forms throughout the tales of the _Arabian

Nights_.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER III.

As ÆLIAN’S work on _the Nature of Animals_ has never, I believe, been

republished in any English version, and the passage in relation to the

training and performance of elephants is so pertinent to the present

inquiry, I venture to subjoin a translation of the 11th chapter of his

2nd book.

“Of the cleverness of the elephant I have spoken elsewhere, and

likewise of the manner of hunting. I have mentioned these things, a few

out of the many which others have stated; but for the present I purpose

to speak of their musical feeling, their tractability, and facility in

learning what it is difficult for even a human being to acquire, much

less a beast, hitherto so wild:—such as to dance, as is done on the

stage; to walk with a measured gait; to listen to the melody of the

flute and to perceive the difference of sounds, that, being pitched low

lead to a slow movement, or high to a quick one; all this the elephant

learns and understands, and is accurate withal, and makes no mistake.

Thus has Nature formed him not only the greatest in size, but the

most gentle and the most easily taught. Now if I were going to write

about the tractability and aptitude to learn amongst those of India,

Æthiopia, and Libya, I should probably appear to be concocting a tale

and acting the braggart, or to be telling a falsehood respecting the

nature of the animal founded on a mere report, all which it behoves a

philosopher, and most of all one who is an ardent lover of truth, not

to do. But what I have seen myself, and what others have described as

having occurred at Rome, this I have chosen to relate, selecting a few

facts out of many, to show the particular nature of those creatures.

The elephant when tamed is an animal most gentle and most easily led

to do whatever he is directed. And by way of showing honour to time,

I will first narrate events of the oldest date. Cæsar Germanicus, the

nephew of Tiberius, exhibited once a public show, wherein there were

many full-grown elephants, male and female, and some of their breed

born in this country. When their limbs were beginning to become firm,

a person familiar with such animals instructed them by a strange and

surpassing method of teaching; using only gentleness and kindness, and

adding to his mild lessons the bait of pleasant and varied food. By

this means he led them by degrees to throw off all wildness, and, as it

were, to desert to a state of civilisation, conducting themselves in a

manner almost human. He taught them neither to be excited on hearing

the pipe, nor to be disturbed by the beat of drum, but to be soothed

by the sounds of the reed, and to endure unmusical noises and the

clatter of feet from persons while marching; and they were trained to

feel no fear of a mass of men, nor to be enraged at the infliction of

blows, not even when compelled to twist their limbs and to bend them

like a stage dancer, and this too although endowed with strength and

might. And there is in this a very noble addition to nature, not to

conduct themselves in a disorderly manner and disobediently towards the

instructions of man; for after the dancing-master had made them expert,

and they had learnt their lessons accurately, they did not belie the

labour of his instruction whenever a necessity and opportunity called

upon them to exhibit what they had been taught. For the whole troop

came forward from this and that side of the theatre, and divided

themselves into parties; they advanced walking with a mincing gait

and exhibiting in their whole body and persons the manners of a beau,

clothed in the flowery dresses of dancers; and on the ballet-master

giving a signal with his voice, they fell into line and went round in a

circle, and if it were requisite to deploy they did so. They ornamented

the floor of the stage by throwing flowers upon it, and this they did

in moderation and sparingly, and straightway they beat a measure with

their feet and kept time together.

“Now that Damon and Spintharus and Aristoxenus and Xenophilus and

Philoxenus and others should know music excellently well, and for their

cleverness be ranked amongst the few, is indeed a thing of wonder,

but not incredible nor contrary at all to reason. For this reason,

that a _man_ is a rational animal, and the recipient of mind and

intelligence. But that a jointless animal (ἄναρθρον) should understand

rhythm and melody, and preserve a gesture, and not deviate from a

measured movement, and fulfil the requirements of those who laid down

instructions, these are gifts of nature, I think, and a peculiarity

in every way astounding. Added to these there were things enough to

drive the spectator out of his senses; when the strewn rushes and

other materials for beds on the ground were placed on the sand of the

theatre, and they received stuffed mattresses such as belonged to rich

houses, and variegated bed-coverings, and goblets were placed there

very expensive, and bowls of gold and silver, and in them a great

quantity of water; and tables were placed there of sweet-smelling wood

and ivory very superb: and upon them flesh meats and loaves enough to

fill the stomachs of animals the most voracious. When the preparations

were completed and abundant, the banqueters came forward, six male and

an equal number of female elephants; the former had on a male dress

and the latter a female; and on a signal being given they stretched

forward their trunks in a subdued manner, and took their food in great

moderation, and not one of them appeared to be gluttonous greedy, or to

snatch at a greater portion, as did the Persian mentioned by Xenophon.

And when it was requisite to drink, a bowl was placed by the side of

each; and inhaling with their trunks they took a draught very orderly;

and then they scattered the drink about in fun; but not as in insult.

Many other acts of a similar kind, both clever and astonishing, have

persons described, relating to the peculiarities of these animals, and

I saw them writing letters on Roman tablets with their trunks, neither

looking awry nor turning aside. The hand, however, of the teacher was

placed so as to be a guide in the formation of the letters; and while

it was writing the animal kept its eye fixed down in an accomplished

and scholarlike manner.”

FOOTNOTES:

[1] _Ceylon_: An Account of the Island, Physical, Historical, and

Topographical. 2 vols. 8vo. London, Longmans & Co. 1859

[2] _Sketches of the Natural History of Ceylon._ London, 1861. See also

_Ceylon, etc._ by Sir J. EMERSON TENNENT. London, 1860, vol. 1. pp. 7,

13, 85, 160, 183, &c.

[3] _Coup d’Œil général sur les Possessions Néerlandaises dans l’Inde

Archipélagique._

[4] TEMMINCK, _Coup d’Œil, etc._ t. i. c. iv. p. 328; t. ii. c. iii. p.

91.

[5] _Proceed. Zool. Soc. London_, 1849, P. 144 _note_. The original

description of TEMMINCK is as follows:

“Elephas Sumatranus, _Nob._ ressemble, par la forme générale du

crâne, à l’éléphant du continent de l’Asie; mais la partie libre des

intermaxillaires est beaucoup plus courte et plus étroite; les cavités

nasales sont beaucoup moins larges; l’espace entre les orbites des yeux

est plus étroit; la partie postérieure du crâne au contraire est plus

large que dans l’espèce du continent.

“Les mâchelières se rapprochent, par la forme de leur couronne,

plutôt de l’espèce asiatique que de celle qui est propre à l’Afrique;

c’est-à-dire que leur couronne offre la forme de rubans ondoyés et non

pas en losange; mais ces rubans sont de la largeur de ceux qu’on voit à

la couronne des dents de l’éléphant d’Afrique; ils sont conséquemment

moins nombreux que dans celui du continent de l’Asie. Les dimensions de

ces rubans, dans la direction d’avant en arrière, comparées à celles

prises dans la direction transversale et latérale, sont en raison de

3 ou 4 à 1; tandis que dans l’éléphant du continent elles sont comme

4 ou 6 à 1. La longueur totale de six de ces rubans, dans l’espèce

nouvelle de Sumatra, ainsi que dans celle d’Afrique, est d’environ 12

centimètres, tandis que cette longueur n’est que de 8 à 10 centimètres

dans l’espèce du continent de l’Asie.

“Les autres formes ostéologiques sont à peu près les mêmes dans les

trois espèces; mais il y a différence dans le nombre des os dont

le squelette se compose, ainsi que le tableau comparatif ci-joint

l’éprouve.

“L’_elephas Africanus_ a 7 vertèbres du cou, 21 vert. dorsales, 3

lombaires, 4 sacrées et 26 caudales; 21 paires de côtes, dont 6 vraies

et 15 fausses. L’_elephas Indicus_ a 7 vertèbres du cou, 19 dorsales, 3

lombaires, 5 sacrées et 34 caudales, 19 paires de côtes, dont 6 vraies

et 3 fausses. L’_elephas Sumatranus_ a 7 vertèbres du cou, 20 dorsales,

3 lombaires, 4 sacrées et 34 caudales; 20 paires de côtes, dont 6

vraies et 14 fausses.

“Ces caractères ont été constatés sur trois squelettes de l’espèce

nouvelle, un mâle et une femelle adultes et un jeune mâle. Nous n’avons

pas encore été à même de nous procurer la dépouille de cette espèce.”

[6] _The Natural History Review_, January 1863, pp. 81, 96.

[7] M. AD. PICTET has availed himself of the love of the elephant for

water, to found on it a solution of the long-contested question as

to the etymology of the word “elephant,”—a term which, whilst it has

passed into almost every dialect of the West, is scarcely to be traced

in any language of Asia. The Greek ἐλέφας, to which we are immediately

indebted for it, did not originally mean the animal, but, as early

as the time of Homer, was applied only to its tusks, and signified

_ivory_. BOCHART has sought for a Semitic origin, and seizing on the

Arabic _fil_, and prefixing the article _al_, suggests _alfil_, akin to

ἐλεφ; but rejecting this, BOCHART himself resorts to the Hebrew eleph,

an “ox”—and this conjecture derives a certain degree of countenance

from the fact that the Romans, when they obtained their first sight of

the elephant in the army of Pyrrhus, in Lucania, called it the _Luca

bos_. But the αντος is still unaccounted for: and POTT has sought to

remove the difficulty by introducing the Arabic _hindi_, Indian, thus

making _eleph hindi_, “_bos Indicus_.” The conversion of _hindi_ into

αντος is an obstacle, but here the example of “tamarind” comes to

aid; _tamar hindi_, the “Indian date,” which in mediæval Greek forms

ταμἄρεντι. A theory of BENARY, that ἐλέφας might be compounded of the

Arabic _al_, and _ibha_, a Sanskrit name for the elephant, is exposed

to still greater etymological exception. PICTET’S solution is, that in

the Sanskrit epics “the King of Elephants,” who has the distinction

of carrying the god Indra, is called _airavata_ or _airavana_, a

modification of _airavanta_ “son of the ocean,” which again comes

from _iravat_, “abounding in water.” “Nous aurions donc ainsi, comme

corrélatif du grec ἐλέφαντα, une ancienne forme, _âirâvanta_ ou

_âilâvanta_, affaiblie plus tard en _âirâvata_ ou _âirâvana_.... On

connaît la prédilection de l’éléphant pour le voisinage des fleuves, et

son amour pour l’eau, dont l’abondance est nécessaire à son bien-être.”

This Sanskrit name, PICTET supposes, may have been carried to the West

by the Phœnicians, who were the purveyors of ivory from India; and,

from the Greek, the Latins derived _elephas_, which passed into the

modern languages of Italy, Germany, and France. But it is curious that

the Spaniards acquired from the Moors their Arabic term for ivory,

_marfil_, and the Portuguese _marfim_; and that the Scandinavians,

probably from their early expeditions to the Mediterranean, adopted

_fill_ as their name for the elephant itself, and _fil-bein_ for

ivory; in Danish, _fils-ben_. (See _Journ. Asiat._ 1843, t. xliii. p.

133.) The Spaniards of South America call the palm which produces the

vegetable ivory (_Phytelephas macrocarpa_) _Palma de marfil_, and the

nut itself, _marfil vegetal_.

Since the above was written Gooneratné Modliar, the Singhalese

Interpreter to the Supreme Court at Colombo, has supplied me with

another conjecture, that the word elephant may possibly be traced to

the Singhalese name of the animal, _alia_, which means literally, “the

huge one.” _Alia_, he adds, is not a derivation from Sanskrit or Pali,

but belongs to a dialect more ancient than either.

[8] ÆLIAN, _de Nat. Anim._ lib. xvi. c. 18; COSMAS INDICOPL. p. 128.

[9] LE BRUN, who visited Ceylon A. D. 1705, says that in the district

round Colombo, where elephants are now never seen, they were then so

abundant, that 160 had been taken in a single corral. (_Voyage_, _etc._

tom. ii. ch. lxiii. p. 331.)

[10] In some parts of Bengal, where elephants were formerly troublesome

(especially near the wilds of Ramgur), the natives got rid of them by

mixing a preparation of the poisonous Nepal root called _dakra_ in

balls of grain, and other materials, of which the animal is fond. In

Cuttack, above fifty years ago, mineral poison was laid for them in the

same way, and the carcases of eighty were found which had been killed

thus. (_Asiat. Res._ xv. 183.)

[11] The number of elephants has been similarly reduced throughout

the south of India, and as in the advancing course of enclosure and

cultivation, the area within which they will be driven must become more

and more contracted, the conjecture is by no means problematical, that

before many generations shall have passed away, the species may become

extinct in Asia.

[12] The annual importation of ivory into Great Britain alone, for the

last few years, has been about _one million_ pounds; which, taking the

average weight of a tusk at sixty pounds, would require the slaughter

of 8,333 male elephants.

But of this quantity the importation from Ceylon has generally averaged

only five or six hundred weight; which, making allowance for the

lightness of the tusks, would not involve the destruction of more than

seven or eight in each year. At the same time, this does not fairly

represent the annual number of tuskers shot in Ceylon, not only because

a portion of the ivory finds its way to China and to other places, but

because the chiefs and Buddhist priests have a passion for collecting

tusks, and the finest and largest are to be found ornamenting their

temples and private dwellings. The Chinese profess that for their

exquisite carvings the ivory of Ceylon excels all other, both in

density of texture and in delicacy of tint; but in the European market,

the ivory of Africa, from its more distinct graining, and other causes,

obtains a higher price.

[13] A writer in the _Indian Sporting Review_ for October 1857 says,

“In Malabar a tuskless male elephant is rare; I have seen but two.” (P.

157.)

[14] The old fallacy is still renewed that the elephant sheds his

tusks. ÆLIAN says he drops them once in ten years (lib. xiv. c. 5); and

PLINY repeats the story, adding that, when dropped, the elephants hide

them under ground (lib. viii.), whence SHAW says, in his _Zoology_,

“they are frequently found in the woods,” and exported from Africa

(vol. i. p. 213); and Sir W. JARDINE in the _Naturalist’s Library_

(vol. ix. p. 110), says, “the tusks are shed about the twelfth or

thirteenth year.” This is erroneous: after losing the first pair, or,

as they are called, the “milk tusks,” which drop in consequence of the

absorption of their roots, when the animal is extremely young, the

second pair acquire their full size, and become the “permanent tusks,”

which are never shed.

[15] I have no means of ascertaining the dimensions of the largest

tusks supposed to have been obtained in continental India. Of those

that I have myself seen the greatest was taken from an elephant killed

by Sir Victor Brooke Bart. at the Hassanoor Hills, in Coimbatore in

1863. It measured 8 feet in length, and when placed on end two men

each 6 feet high can with ease stand side by side under the curved

extremity. It is 1 ft. 6 in. in circumference at the base and weighs

110 lbs. This remarkable tusk is now in the museum at Colebrooke

Park in the county Fermanagh. Its companion, owing to disease, is a

distorted lump of ivory; an almost shapeless mass weighing 60 lbs. The

life-long agony endured by the poor animal who bore it must have been

frightful in the extreme. Notwithstanding the inferiority in weight of

the Ceylon tusks, as compared with those of the elephant of India, it

would, I think, be precipitate to draw the inference that the size of

the former was uniformly and naturally less than that of the latter.

The truth I believe to be, that if permitted to grow to maturity, the

tusks of the one would, in all probability, equal those of the other;

but, so eager is the search for ivory in Ceylon, that a tusker, when

once observed in a herd, is followed up with such vigilant impatience,

that he is almost invariably shot before attaining his full growth.

General DE LIMA, when returning from the governorship of the Portuguese

settlements at Mozambique, told me, in 1848, that he had been requested

to procure two tusks of the largest size, and straightest possible

shape, which were to be formed into a cross to surmount the high altar

of the cathedral at Goa: he succeeded in his commission, and sent two,

one of which was 180 pounds’ and the other 170 pounds’ weight, with

the slightest possible curve. In a periodical entitled _The Friend_,

published in Ceylon, it is stated in the volume for 1837 that the

officers belonging to the ships Quorrah and Alburhak, engaged in the

Niger Expedition, were shown by a native king two tusks, each two feet

and a half in circumference at the base, eight feet long, and weighing

upwards of 200 pounds. (Vol. i. p. 225.) BRODERIP, in his _Zoological

Recreations_, p. 255, says a tusk of 350 pounds’ weight was sold at

Amsterdam, but he does not quote his authority. PETHERICK in his

_Account of Egypt, Soudan_, &c. says that in Central Africa the size

of tusks differs in different latitudes, those towards the north being

shorter, thicker, less hollow, and heavier than those of the south.

Thus a tusk from the Nouaer, Dinka, or Shilook tribes will weigh 120

lbs., while one from Bari would weigh only 70 lbs. or 80 lbs. “Indeed,”

he adds, “I have known a tusk from Nouaer to weigh 185 lbs., its length

being _seven feet two inches_, and its greatest thickness at the base

_nine_ inches.” (PETHERICK, p. 418.) Sir S. Baker, in his explorations

of the White Nile, saw monster tusks of 160 lbs.; and one in the

possession of a trader weighed 172 lbs. (_The Albert Nyanza_, vol. i.

p. 273.)

[16] _Menageries_, _etc._ published by the Society for the Diffusion of

Useful Knowledge, vol. i. p. 68: “The Elephant,” ch. iii. It will be

seen that I have quoted repeatedly from this volume, because it is the

most compendious and careful compilation with which I am acquainted of

the information previously existing regarding the elephant. The author

incorporates no speculations of his own, but has most diligently and

agreeably arranged all the facts collected by his predecessors. The

story of antipathy between the elephant and rhinoceros is probably

borrowed from ÆLIAN _de Nat._ lib. xvii. c. 44.

[17] “The _Correspondencia_ of Madrid gives the following account of

a fight between a Ceylon elephant and two bulls, which took place at

Saragossa:—‘The elephant was walking quietly about the arena when

the first bull was released and rushed at it with all his might. The

elephant received his antagonist with great coolness, and threw him

down with the utmost ease. The bull rose again and made two more

attacks, which the elephant resented by killing him with his tusks. The

conqueror did not seem in the least excited, but quietly drank some

water offered by his keeper, and ate several ears of Indian corn. A

second bull was then released, and in a few minutes suffered the same

fate as the first.’” (_Globe_, Nov. 9, 1864.) The _Times_ says the

elephant killed it “_with a thrust_ of his tusks.”

[18] _Menageries_, _etc._: “The Elephant,” ch. iii. In the Anglo-Saxon

_Epistola Alexandri ad Aristotelem_, which has been printed by COCKAYNE

in his _Narratiunculæ Anglice conscriptæ_, the belief in the alleged

antipathy of the elephant to swine is embodied in the text and is thus

rendered in the Latin version: “Pervenimus demum ad silvas Indorum

ultimas; ubi cum castra collocavissemus, ceperamus velle epulari

sub nocte hora xi; cum subito pabulatores lignatoresque exanimes

nunciabant, ut celeriter arma caperemus, venire e silvis elephantorum

immensas greges ad expugnanda castra. Imperavi ergo Thessalicis

equitibus ut ascenderent equos, _secumque tollerent sues_, quorum

grunnitus timere bestias noveram, et occurrere quam primum elephantis

jussi ... nec mora trepidantes elephanti conversi sunt. Quieta nox

fuit usque ad lucem.” (P. 58.) Another allusion to the same legendary

incident will be found in the _Lyfe of Alisaunder_, one of the most

ancient English romances, reprinted by WEBER in his _Metrical Romances

of the 13th, 14th, and 15th Centuries_.

“Forth went the kyng thennes with hy;

Of the forme-ward he herd grete cry

For hy weren assailed of olifauntz.

The kyng highed, and his sergeauntz:

Ac, so I fynde on the booke,

By Porus conseil _hogges hy took_

_And beten them so they shrightte_:

The olifauntz away hem dightte;

For hy ne have so mychel drade

Of nothing as of hogges grade.”

WEBER, vol. i. p. 237.

[19] This peculiarity was noticed by the ancients, and is recorded by

Herodotus: κάμηλον ἵππος φοβέεται, καὶ οὐκ ἀνέχεται οὔτε τὴν ἰδέην

αὐτῆς ὁρέων οὔτε τὴν ὀδμὴν ὀσφραινόμενος. (Herod. i. 80.) Camels have

long been bred by the Grand Duke of Tuscany, at his establishment

near Pisa, and even there the same instinctive dislike to them is

manifested by the horse, which it is necessary to train and accustom

to their presence in order to avoid accidents. Mr. BRODERIP mentions,

that, “when the precaution of such training has not been adopted,

the sudden and dangerous terror with which a horse is seized in

coming unexpectedly upon one of them is excessive.”—_Note-book of a

Naturalist_, ch. iv. p. 113.

[20] Major ROGERS was many years the chief civil officer of the Ceylon

Government in the district of Ouvah, where he was killed by lightning,

1845.

[21] “Quidam etiam cum equis silvestribus pugnant. Sæpe unus elephas

cum sex equis committitur; atque ipse adeo interfui cum unus elephas

duos equos cum primo impetu protinus prosternerit;—injecta enim jugulis

ipsorum longa proboscide, ad se protractos, dentibus porro comminuit ac

protrivit.” (_Angli cujusdam in Cambayam navigatio._ DE BRY, _Coll._

_etc._ vol. iii. ch. xvi. p. 31.)

[22] To account for the impatience manifested by the elephant at the

presence of a dog, it has been suggested that he is alarmed lest the

latter should attack _his feet_, a portion of his body of which the

elephant is peculiarly careful. A tame elephant has been observed to

regard with indifference a spear directed towards his head, but to

shrink timidly from the same weapon when pointed at his feet.

[23] A writer in the _Indian Sporting Review_ for October 1857 says a

male elephant was killed by two others close to his camp: “the head

was completely smashed in; there was a large hole in the side, and the

abdomen was ripped open. The latter wound was given probably after it

had fallen.” (P. 175.)

[24] In the Third Book of Maccabees, which is not printed in our

Apocrypha, but appears in the series in the Greek Septuagint,

the author, in describing the persecution of the Jews by Ptolemy

Philopater, B.C. 210, states that the king swore vehemently that he

would send them into the other world, “foully trampled to death by the

knees and feet of elephants” (πέμψειν εἰς ᾅδην ἐν γόνασι καὶ ποσὶ θηρίων

ᾑκισμένους. 3 Mac. v. 42). ÆLIAN makes the remark, that elephants on

such occasions use their _knees_ as well as their feet to crush their

victim. (_Hist. Anim._ viii. 10.)

[25] The _Hastisilpe_, a Singhalese work which treats of the “Science

of Elephants,” enumerates amongst those which it is not desirable to

possess, “the elephant which will fight with a stone or a stick in his

trunk.”

[26] Among other eccentric forms, an elephant was seen in 1844, in the

district of Bintenne, near Friar’s-Hood Mountain, one of whose tusks

was so bent that it took what sailors term a “round turn,” and then

resumed its curved direction as before. In the Museum of the College of

Surgeons, London, there is a specimen, No 2757, of a _spiral_ tusk.

[27] Since the foregoing remarks were written relative to the undefined

use of tusks to the elephant, I have seen a speculation on the same

subject in Dr. HOLLAND’S “_Constitution of the Animal Creation, as

expressed in structural appendages_;” but the conjecture of the author

leaves the problem scarcely less obscure than before. Struck with the

mere _supplemental_ presence of the tusks, the absence of all apparent

use serving to distinguish them from the _essential_ organs of the

creature, Dr. HOLLAND concludes that their production is a process

incident, but not ancillary, to other important ends, especially

connected with the vital functions of the trunk and the marvellous

motive powers inherent to it; his conjecture is, that they are “a

species of safety valve of the animal œconomy,”—and that “they owe

their development to the predominance of the senses of touch and smell,

conjointly with the muscular motions of which the exercise of these is

accompanied.” “Had there been no proboscis,” he thinks, “there would

have been no supplementary appendages,—the former creates the latter.”

(Pp. 246, 271.)

[28] See _Notes on the Natural History of Ceylon_ by Sir J. EMERSON

TENNENT, p. 60. Sir S. BAKER adds as a distinctive feature of the

African elephant that its “back is concave while that of the Indian

variety is convex.” (_The Albert Nyanza_, vol. 1. p. 274.)

[29] A native of rank informed me, that “the tail of a high-caste

elephant will sometimes touch the ground, but such are very rare.”

[30] This is confirmed by the fact that the scar of the ancle wound,

occasioned by the rope on the legs of those which have been captured by

noosing, presents precisely the same tint when thoroughly healed.

[31] _Mahawanso_, ch. xxxviii. p. 254, A.D. 433.

[32] PALLEGOIX, _Siam_, _etc._ vol. i. p. 152.

[33] _Mahawanso_, ch. xviii. p. 111. The Hindu sovereigns of Orissa,

in the middle ages, bore the style of _Gajapati_, “powerful in

elephants.” (_Asiat. Res._ xv. 253.)

[34] Herod. l. i. c. 189.

[35] Ibid. l. ii. c. 38.

[36] ARMANDI, _Hist. Milit. des Eléphants_, lib. ii. c. x. p. 380.

HORACE mentions a white elephant as having been exhibited at Rome:

“Sive elephas albus vulgi converteret ora.” (HOR. _Ep._ ii. 196.)

[37] After writing the above, I was permitted by the late Dr. HARRISON,

of Dublin, to see some accurate drawings of the brain of an elephant,

which he had the opportunity of dissecting in 1847; and on looking

to that of the base, I have found a remarkable verification of the

information which I had previously collected in Ceylon.

The small figure A is the ganglion of the fifth nerve, showing the

small motor and large sensitive portion.

[Illustration]

The _olfactory lobes_, from which the olfactory nerves proceed,

are large, whilst the _optic and muscular nerves of the orbit are

singularly small_ for so vast an animal; and one is immediately struck

by the prodigious size of the fifth nerve, which supplies the proboscis

with its exquisite sensibility, as well as by the great size of the

motor portion of the seventh, which supplies the same organ with its

power of movement and action.

[38] _Menageries_, _etc._ “The Elephant,” p. 27.

[39] Major ROGERS. An account of this singular adventure will be found

in the _Ceylon Miscellany_ for 1842, vol. i. p. 221.

[40] _Menageries_, _etc._ “The Elephant,” ch. iii. p. 68.

[41] ARISTOTLE, _De Anim._ lib. iv. c. 9, ὁμοῖον σάλπιγγι. See also

PLINY, lib. x. ch. cxiii. A manuscript of the 15th century in the

British Museum, containing the romance of “_Alexander_,” which is

probably of the fifteenth century, is interspersed with drawings

illustrative of the strange animals of the East. Amongst them are two

elephants, whose trunks are literally in the form of _trumpets with

expanded mouths_. See WRIGHT’S _Archæological Album_, p. 176, and M.S.

Reg. 15, e. vi. Brit. Mus.

[Illustration]

[42] PALLEGOIX, in his _Description du Royaume Thai ou Siam_, adverts

to a sound produced by the elephant when weary: “quand il est fatigué,

_il frappe la terre avec sa trompe_, et en tire un son semblable à

celui du cor.” (Tom. i. p. 151.)

[43] For an explanation of the term “rogue” as applied to an elephant,

see p. 47.

[44] _Natural History of Animals._ By Sir JOHN HILL, M.D. London,

1748-52, p. 565. A probable source of these false estimates is

mentioned by a writer in the _Indian Sporting Review_ for Oct. 1857.

“Elephants were measured formerly, and even now, by natives, as to

their height, by throwing a rope over them, the ends brought to the

ground on each side, and half the length taken as the true height.

Hence the origin of elephants fifteen and sixteen feet high. A rod held

at right angles to the measuring rod, and parallel to the ground, will

rarely give more than ten feet, the majority being under nine.” (P. 159)

[45] SHAW’S _Zoology_. Lond. 1806. vol. i. p. 216; ARMANDI, _Hist.

Milit. des Eléphants_, liv. i. ch. i. p. 2.

[46] WOLF’S _Life and adventures_, _etc._ p. 164. Wolf was a native

of Mecklenburg, who arrived in Ceylon about 1750, as chaplain in one

of the Dutch East Indiamen, and having been taken into the Government

employment, he served for twenty years at Jaffna, first as Secretary

to the Governor, and afterwards in an office the duties of which

he describes to be the examination and signature of the “writings

which served to commence a suit in any of the courts of justice.”

His book embodies a truthful and generally accurate account of the

northern portion of the island, with which alone he was conversant,

and his narrative gives a curious insight into the policy of the Dutch

Government, and of the condition of the natives under their dominion.

[47] DENHAM’S _Travels_, _etc._ 4to, p. 220. Fossil remains of the

Indian elephant have been discovered at Jabalpur, showing a height of

fifteen feet. (_Journ. Asiat. Soc. Beng._ vi.) Professor ANSTED in his

_Ancient World_, p. 197, says he was informed by Dr. Falconer “that out

of eleven hundred elephants from which the tallest were selected and

measured with care, on one occasion in India, there was not one whose

height equalled eleven feet.”

[48] _Vulgar Errors_, book iii. chap. 1. The earliest English writer

who promulgated this error was ALEXANDER NECKHAM, who in his treatise

_De Naturis Rerum_, composed in the 12th century, quotes Cassiodorus

and accepts his assertion that the elephant has no joints, chap.

cxliii. NECKHAM repeats the statement in his poem _De Laudibus Divinæ

Sapientiæ_, v. 47.

[49] Machlis (said to be derived from α, priv., and κλίνω, _cubo_, quod

non cubat). “Moreover in the island of Scandinavia there is a beast

called _Machlis_, that hath neither ioynt in the hough, nor pasternes

in his hind legs, and therefore he never lieth down, but sleepeth

leaning to a tree, wherefore the hunters that lie in wait for these

beasts cut downe the trees while they are asleepe, and so take them;

otherwise they should never be taken, they are so swift of foot that it

is wonderful.” (PLINY, _Natur. Hist._ Transl. Philemon Holland, book

viii. ch. xv. p. 200.)

[50] “Sunt item quæ appellantur _Alces_. Harum est consimilis capreis

figura, et varietas pellium; sed magnitudine paulo antecedunt,

mutilæque sunt cornibus, _et crura sine nodis articulisque habent_;

neque quietis causa procumbunt; neque, si quo afflictæ casu

considerunt, erigere sese aut sublevare possunt. His sunt arbores

pro cubilibus; ad eas sese applicant, atque ita, paulum modo

reclinatæ, quietem capiunt, quarum ex vestigiis cum est animadversum

a venatoribus, quo se recipere consueverint, omnes eo loco, aut a

radicibus subruunt aut accidunt arbores tantum, ut summa species earum

stantium relinquatur. Huc cum se consuetudine reclinaverint, infirmas

arbores pondere affligunt, atque una ipsæ concidunt.” (CÆSAR, _De Bello

Gall._ lib. vi. ch. xxvii.)

The same fiction was extended by the early Arabian travellers to the

rhinoceros, and in the MS. of the voyages of the “_Two Mahometans_,” it

is stated that the rhinoceros of Sumatra “n’a point d’articulation au

genou ni à la main.” (_Relations des Voyages_, _etc._ Paris, 1845, vol.

i. p. 29.)

[51] EVELYN, who was a contemporary and friend of Sir Thomas Browne,

observes in his diary, August 13, 1641, on arriving at Rotterdam, “here

I first saw an elephant: it was a beast of a monstrous size, yet as

flexible and nimble in the joints, contrary to the vulgar tradition, as

could be imagined from so prodigious a bulk and strange fabric.” (Vol.

i. p. 20.)

[52] In his _Natural History_, ARISTOTLE speaks of Ctesias as οὐκ ὣν

ἀξιόπιστος. (L. viii. c. 27.)

[53] “When an animal moves progressively an hypothenuse is produced,

which is equal in power to the magnitude that is quiescent, and to

that which is intermediate. But since the members are equal, it is

necessary that the member which is quiescent should be inflected either

in the knee or in the incurvation, _if the animal that walks is without

knees_. It is possible, however, for the leg to be moved, when not

inflected, in the same manner as infants creep; and there is an ancient

report of this kind about elephants, which is not true, for such

animals as these, _are moved in consequence of an inflection taking

place either in their shoulders or hips_.” (ARISTOTLE, _De Ingressu

Anim._ ch. ix. Taylor’s Transl.)

[54] ARISTOTLE, _De Animal_, lib. ii. ch. i. It is curious that Taylor,

in his translation of this passage, was so strongly imbued with the

“grey-headed errour,” that in order to elucidate the somewhat obscure

meaning of Aristotle, he has actually interpolated the text with the

exploded fallacy of Ctesias, and after the word reclining to sleep, has

inserted the words “_leaning against some wall or tree_,” which are not

to be found in the original.

[55] Ζῷον δὲ ἄναρθρον συνιέναι καὶ ῥυθμοῦ καὶ μέλους, καὶ φυλάττειν

σχῆμα φύσεως δῶρα ταῦτα ἅμα καὶ ἰδιότης καθ’ ἕκαστον ἐκπληκτική.

(ÆLIAN, _De Nat. Anim._ lib. ii. cap. xi.)

[56] EGINHARD, _Vita Karoli_, c. xvi. and _Annales Francorum_, A. D.

810.

[57] “Sed idem Julius, unum de elephantibus mentiens, falso loquitur;

dicens elephantem nunquam jacere; dum ille sicut bos certissime jacet,

ut populi communiter regni Francorum elephantem, in tempore Imperatoris

Karoli, viderunt. Sed, forsitan, ideo hoc de elephante ficte æstimando

scriptum est, eo quod genua et suffragines sui nisi quando jacet, non

palam apparent.” (DICUILUS, _De Mensura Orbis Terræ_, c. vii.)

[58] _Cotton MSS._ NERO. D. i. fol. 168, b.

[59] _Arundel MSS._ No. 292, fol. 4, &c. It has been printed in the

_Reliquiæ Antiquæ_, vol. i. p. 208, by Mr. WRIGHT, to whom I am

indebted for the following rendering of the passage referred to:—

in water ge sal stonden

in water to mid side

ðat wanne hire harde tide

ðat ge ne falle niðer nogt

ðat it most in hire ðogt

for he ne haven no lið

ðat he mugen risen wið, etc.

“They will stand in the water,

in water up to the middle of the side,

that when it comes to them hard,

they may not fall down:

that is most in their thought,

for they have no joint

to enable them to rise again.

How he resteth him this animal,

when he walketh abroad,

hearken how it is here told.

For he is all unwieldy,

forsooth he seeks out a tree,

that is strong and steadfast,

and leans confidently against it,

when he is weary of walking.

The hunter has observed this,

who seeks to ensnare him,

where his usual dwelling is,

to do his will;

saws this tree and props it

in the manner that he best may,

covers it well that he (the elephant) may not be on his guard.

Then he makes thereby a seat,

himself sits alone and watches

whether his trap takes effect.

Then cometh this unwieldy elephant,

and leans him on his side,

rests against the tree in the shadow,

and so both fall together,

if nobody be by when he falls,

he roars ruefully and calls for help,

roars ruefully in his manner,

hopes he shall through help rise.

Then cometh there one (elephant) in haste,

hopes he shall cause him to stand up;

labours and tries all his might,

but he cannot succeed a bit.

He knows then no other remedy,

but roars with his brother,

many and large (elephants) come there in search,

thinking to make him get up,

but for the help of them all

he may not get up.

Then they all roar one roar,

like the blast of a horn or the sound of bell;

for their great roaring

a young one cometh running,

stoops immediately to him,

puts his snout under him,

and asks the help of them all;

this elephant they raise on his legs:

and thus fails this hunter’s trick,

in the manner that I have told you.”

[60] One of the most venerable authorities by whom the fallacy was

transmitted to modern times was PHILIP DE THAUN, who wrote, about the

year 1121, A. D. his _Livre des Créatures_, dedicated to Adelaide of

Louvaine, Queen of Henry I. of England. In the copy of it printed by

the Historical Society of Science in 1841, and edited by Mr. WRIGHT,

the following passage occurs:—

“Et Ysidres nus dit ki le elefant descrit,

* * * * *

Es jambes par nature nen ad que une jointure,

Il ne pot pas gesir quant il se vol dormir,

Ke si cuchet estait par sei nen leverait;

Pur çeo li stot apuier, el lui del cucher,

U à arbre u à mur, idunc dort aseur.

E le gent de la terre, ki li volent con quere,

Li mur enfunderunt, u le arbre enciserunt;

Quant li elefant vendrat, ki s’i apuierat,

La arbre u le mur carrat, e il tribucherat;

Issi faiterement le parnent cele gent.”

P. 100.

[61] _Troilus and Cressida_, act ii. sc. 3. A. D. 1609.

[62] _Progress of the Soul_, A. D. 1633.

[63] Sir T. BROWNE, _Vulgar Errors_, A. D. 1646.

[64] RANDAL HOME’S _Academy of Armory_, A. D. 1671. HOME only

perpetuated the error of GUILLIM, who wrote his _Display of Heraldry_

in A. D. 1610; wherein he explains that the elephant is “so proud of

his strength that he never bows himself to any (_neither indeed can

he_), and when he is once down he cannot rise up again.” (Sec. iii. ch.

xii. p. 147.)

[65] THOMSON’S _Seasons_, A. D. 1728.

[66] So little is the elephant inclined to lie down in captivity, and

even after hard labour, that the keepers are generally disposed to

suspect illness when he betakes himself to this posture. PHILE, in

his poem _De Animalium Proprietate_, attributes the propensity of the

elephant to sleep on his legs, to the difficulty he experiences in

rising to his feet:

Ὀρθοστάδην δὲ καὶ καθεύδει παννύχως

Ὅτ’ οὺκ ἀναστῆσαι μὲν εὐχερῶς πέλει.

But this is a misapprehension.

[67] _Menageries_, _etc._ “The Elephant,” ch. i.

Sir CHARLES BELL, in his essay on _The Hand and its Mechanism_,

which forms one of the “Bridgewater Treatises,” has exhibited the

reasons deducible from organisation, which show the incapacity of the

elephant to _spring_ or _leap_ like the horse and other animals whose

structure is designed to facilitate agility and speed. In them the

various bones of the shoulder and fore limbs, especially the clavicle

and humerus, are set at such an angle, that the shock in descending

is modified, and the joints and sockets protected from the injury

occasioned by concussion. But in the elephant, where the weight of the

body is immense, the bones of the leg, in order to present solidity

and strength to sustain it, are built in one firm and perpendicular

column; instead of being placed somewhat obliquely at their points of

contact. Thus whilst the force of the weight in descending is broken

and distributed by this arrangement in the case of the horse; it would

be so concentrated in the elephant as to endanger every joint from the

toe to the shoulder.

[Illustration]

[68] _Menageries_, _etc._ “The Elephant,” ch. ii.

[69] Dr. HOOKER, in describing the ascent of the Himalayas, says, the

natives in making their paths despise all zigzags, and run in straight

lines up the steepest hill faces; whilst “the elephant’s path is an

excellent specimen of engineering—the opposite of the native track,—for

it winds judiciously.” (_Himalayan Journal_, vol. i. ch. iv.)

[70] _Ceylon Observer_, March 1865.

[71] Since the above passage was written, I have seen in the _Journal

of the Asiatic Society of Bengal_, vol. xiii. pt. ii. p. 916, a paper

upon this subject, illustrated by the subjoined diagram.

The writer says, “an elephant descending a bank of too acute an angle

to admit of his walking down it direct, (which, were he to attempt, his

huge body, soon disarranging the centre of gravity, would certainly

topple over,) proceeds thus. His first manœuvre is to kneel down close

to the edge of the declivity, placing his chest to the ground: one

fore leg is then cautiously passed a short way down the slope; and if

there is no natural protection to afford a firm footing, he speedily

forms one by stamping into the soil if moist, or kicking out a footing

if dry. This point gained, the other fore leg is brought down in the

same way; and performs the same work, a little in advance of the first;

which is thus at liberty to move lower still. Then, first one and then

the second of the hind legs is carefully drawn over the side, and the

hind feet in turn occupy the resting-places previously used and left

by the fore ones. The course, however, in such precipitous ground is

not straight from top to bottom, but slopes along the face of the bank,

descending till the animal gains the level below. This an elephant has

done, at an angle of 45 degrees, carrying a _howdah_, its occupant,

his attendant, and sporting apparatus; and in a much less time than it

takes to describe the operation.” I have observed that an elephant in

descending a declivity uses his knees, on the side next the bank; and

his feet on the lower side only.

[Illustration]

[72] A correspondent of Buffon, M. MARCELLUS BLES, Seigneur de

Moergestal, who resided eleven years in Ceylon in the time of the

Dutch, says in one of his communications, that in herds of forty or

fifty, enclosed in a single corral, there were frequently very young

calves; and that “on ne pouvoit pas reconnoître quelles étoient les

mères de chacun de ces petits éléphans, car tous ces jeunes animaux

paroissent faire manse commune; ils têtent indistinctement celles

des femelles de toute la troupe qui ont du lait, soit qu’elles aient

elles-mêmes un petit en propre, soit qu’elles n’en aient point.”

(BUFFON, _Suppl. à l’Hist. des Anim._ vol. vi. p. 25.)

[73] WHITE, in his _Natural History of Selbourne_, philosophising on

the fact which had fallen under his own notice of this indiscriminate

suckling of the young of one animal by the parent of another, is

disposed to ascribe it to a selfish feeling; the pleasure and relief

of having its distended teats drawn by this intervention. He notices

the circumstance of a leveret having been thus nursed by a cat, whose

kittens had been recently drowned; and observes that “this strange

affection was probably occasioned by that desiderium, those tender

maternal feelings, which the loss of her kittens had awakened in her

breast; and by the complacency and ease she derived to herself from

procuring her teats to be drawn, which were too much distended with

milk; till from habit she became as much delighted with this foundling

as if it had been her real offspring. This incident is no bad solution

of that strange circumstance which grave historians, as well as the

poets, assert of exposed children being sometimes nurtured by female

wild beasts that probably had lost their young. For it is not one whit

more marvellous that Romulus and Remus in their infant state should be

nursed by a she wolf than that a poor little suckling leveret should

be fostered and cherished by a bloody Grimalkin.” (WHITE’S _Selborne_,

lett. xx.) General SLEAMAN in his narrative of a journey through Oude

gives some remarkable narratives of children suckled by wolves and

found associating with their cubs.

[74] The term “rogue” is scarcely sufficiently accounted for by

supposing it to be the English equivalent for the Singhalese word

_Hora_. In that very curious book, the _Life and Adventures of_ JOHN

CHRISTOPHER WOLF, _late principal Secretary at Jaffnapatam in Ceylon_,

see _ante_, note, p. 31, the author says, when a male elephant in a

quarrel about the females “is beat out of the field and obliged to go

without a consort, he becomes furious and mad, killing every living

creature, be it man or beast; and in this state is called _ronkedor_,

an object of greater terror to a traveller than a hundred wild ones.”

(P. 142.) In another passage, p. 164, he is called _runkedor_, and

I have seen it spelt elsewhere _ronquedue_. WOLF does not give

“_ronkedor_” as a term peculiar to that section of the island; but both

there and elsewhere, it is obsolete at the present day, unless it be

open to conjecture that the modern term “rogue” is a modification of

_ronquedue_.

[75] BUCHANAN, in his _Survey of Bhagulpore_, p. 503, says that

solitary males of the wild buffalo, “when driven from the herd by

stronger competitors for female society, are reckoned very dangerous to

meet with; for they are apt to wreak their vengeance on whatever they

meet, and are said to kill annually three or four people.” LIVINGSTONE

relates the same of the solitary hippopotamus, which becomes soured in

temper, and wantonly attacks the passing canoes. (_Travels in South

Africa_, p. 231.)

[76] Letter from Major SKINNER.

[77] This peculiarity was known in the middle ages, and PHILE, writing

in the fourteenth century, says, that such is his _preference_ for

muddy water that the elephant _stirs it_ before he drinks.

Ὕδωρ δὲ πίνει συγχυθὲν πρὶν ἂν πίνοι,

Τὸ γὰρ διειδὲς ἀκριβῶς διαπτύει.

PHILE _de Eleph._ i. 144.

[78] A tame elephant, when taken by his keepers to be bathed, and

to have his skin washed and rubbed, lies down on his side, pressing

his head to the bottom under water, with only the top of his trunk

protruded, to breathe.

[79] BRODERIP’S _Zoological Recreations_, p. 259.

[80] For observing the osteology of the elephant, materials are

of course abundant in the indestructible remains of the animal:

but the study of the intestines, and the dissection of the softer

parts by comparative anatomists in Europe, have been up to the

present time beset by difficulties. These arise not alone from the

rarity of subjects, but even in cases where elephants have died in

these countries, decomposition interposes, and before the thorough

examination of so vast a body can be satisfactorily completed, the

great mass falls into putrefaction.

The principal English authorities are _An Anatomical Account of the

Elephant accidentally burnt in Dublin_, by A. MOLYNEUX, A.D. 1696;

which is probably a reprint of a letter on the same subject in the

library of Trinity College, Dublin, addressed by A. Moulin to Sir

William Petty, Lond. 1682. There are also some papers communicated

to Sir Hans Sloane, and afterwards published in the _Philosophical

Transactions_ of the year 1710, by Dr. P. BLAIR, who had an opportunity

of dissecting an elephant which died at Dundee in 1708. The latter

writer observes that, “notwithstanding the vast interest attaching

to the elephant in all ages, yet has its body been hitherto very

little subjected to anatomical inquiries;” and he laments that the

rapid decomposition of the carcase, and other causes, had interposed

obstacles to the scrutiny of the subject he was so fortunate as to find

access to.

In 1723 Dr. WM. STUCKLEY published _Some Anatomical Observations made

upon the Dissection of an Elephant_; but each of the above essays is

necessarily unsatisfactory, and little has since been done to supply

their defects. One of the latest and most valuable contributions to the

subject, is a paper read before the Royal Irish Academy, on the 18th of

Feb. 1847, by Professor HARRISON, who had the opportunity of dissecting

an Indian elephant which died of acute fever; but the examination, so

far as he has made it public, extends only to the cranium, the brain,

and the proboscis, the larynx, trachea, and œsophagus. An essential

service would be rendered to science if some sportsman in Ceylon, or

some of the officers connected with the elephant establishment there,

would take the trouble to forward the carcase of a young one to England

in a state fit for dissection.

_Postscriptum._—I am happy to say that a young elephant, carefully

preserved in spirits, has recently been obtained in Ceylon, and

forwarded to Prof. Owen, of the British Museum, by the joint exertions

of M. DIARD and Major SKINNER. An opportunity has thus been afforded of

which science will reap the advantage, of devoting a patient attention

to the internal structure of this most interesting animal.

[81] ARISTOTLE noticed a peculiarity in the intestinal configuration of

the elephant such as gave it the appearance of having four stomachs.

_De Anim. Hist._ l; ii. c. 17.

[82] The passage as quoted by BUFFON from the _Mémoires_ is as

follows:—“L’estomac avoit peu de diamètre; il en avoit moins que le

colon, car son diamètre n’étoit que de quatorze pouces dans la partie

la plus large; il avoit trois pieds et demi de longueur: l’orifice

supérieur étoit à peu près aussi éloigné du pylore que du fond du

grand cul-de-sac qui se terminoit en une pointe composée de tuniques

beaucoup plus épaisses que celles du reste de l’estomac; il y avoit au

fond du grand cul-de-sac plusieurs feuillets épais d’une ligne, larges

d’un pouce et demi, et disposés irrégulièrement; le reste des parois

intérieures étoit percé de plusieurs petits trous et par de plus grands

qui correspondoient à des grains glanduleux.” (BUFFON, _Hist. Nat._

vol. xi. p. 109.)

[83] “L’extrémité voisine du cardiaque se termine par une poche

très-considérable et doublée à l’intérieure de quatorze valvules

orbiculaires qui semblent en faire une espèce de division

particulière.” (CAMPER, _Description anatomique d’un Eléphant mâle_, p.

37, tabl. IX.)

[84] “The elephant has another peculiarity in the internal structure

of the stomach. It is longer and narrower than that of most animals.

The cuticular membrane of the œsophagus terminates at the orifice of

the stomach. At the cardiac end, which is very narrow and pointed at

the extremity, the lining is thick and glandular, and is thrown into

transverse folds, of which five are broad and nine narrow. That nearest

the orifice of the œsophagus is the broadest, and appears to act

occasionally as a valve, so that the part beyond may be considered as

an appendage similar to that of the peccary and the hog. The membrane

of the cardiac portion is uniformly smooth; that of the pyloric is

thicker and more vascular.” (_Lectures on Comparative Anatomy_, by

Sir EVERARD HOME, Bart. 4to. Lond. vol. i. p. 155. The figure of the

elephant’s stomach is given in his _Lectures_, vol. ii. plate xviii.)

[85] A similar arrangement, with some modifications, has more recently

been found in the llama of the Andes, which, like the camel, is used

as a beast of burden in the Cordilleras of Chili and Peru; but both

these and the camel are _ruminants_, whilst the elephant belongs to the

Pachydermata.

[86] _Proceed. Roy. Irish. Acad._ vol. iv. p. 133.

[87] _Ayeen Akbery_, transl. by GLADWIN, vol. i. pt. i. p. 147.

[88] One of the Indian names for the elephant is _duipa_, which

signifies “to drink twice.” (AMANDI, p. 513.) Can this have reference

to the peculiarity of the stomach for retaining a supply of water? Or

has it merely reference to the habit of the animal to fill his trunk

before transferring the water to his mouth?

[89] The buffalo and the humped cattle of India, which are used for

draught and burden, have, I believe, a development somewhat more

conspicuous than in the rest of their congeners, of the organisation of

the reticulum which enables the ruminants generally to endure thirst,

and abstain from water, but nothing in them approaches in singularity

of character to the distinct cavities in the stomach exhibited by the

three animals above alluded to.

[90] For an explanation of this term, see Sir J. EMERSON TENNENT’S

_Ceylon_, _etc._ vol. i. p. 498.

[91] “One of the strongest instincts which the elephant possesses, is

this which impels him to experiment upon the solidity of every surface

which he is required to cross.”—_Menageries_, _etc._ “The Elephant,”

vol. i. pp. 17, 19, 66.

[92] WOLF’S _Life and Adventures_, p. 151.

[93] _Private Letter_ from Dr. DAVY, author of _An Account of the

Interior of Ceylon_.

[94] The _Colombo Observer_ for March 1858, contains an offer of a

reward of twenty-five guineas for the destruction of an elephant which

infested the Rajawallé coffee plantation, in the vicinity of Kandy.

Its object seemed to be less the search for food, than the satisfying

of its curiosity and the gratification of its passion for mischief.

Mr. TYTLER, the proprietor, states that it frequented the jungle near

the estate, whence it was its custom to sally forth at night for the

pleasure of pulling down buildings and trees, “and it seemed to have

taken a spite at the pipes of the waterworks, the pillars of which

it several times broke down—its latest fancy being to wrench off the

taps.” This elephant has since been shot.

[95] CUVIER, _Règne Animal_. “Les Mammifères,” p. 280.

[96] _Table Talk_, p. 63.

[97] The elephant is believed by the Singhalese to express his

uneasiness by his voice, on the approach of _rain_; and the Tamils have

a proverb,—“_Listen to the elephant, rain is coming._”

[98] Yokes borne on the shoulder with a package at each end.

[99] The tutelary spirit of the sacred mountain, Adam’s Peak.

[100] The Singhalese hold the belief, that twigs taken from one bush

and placed on another growing close to a pathway, ensure protection

to travellers from the attacks of wild animals, and especially of

elephants. Can it be that the latter avoid the path, on discovering

this evidence of the proximity of recent passengers?

[101] A rogue elephant.

[102] Woman’s robe.

[103] The figured cloth worn by men.

[104] To persons like myself, who are not addicted to what is called

“sport,” the statement of these wholesale slaughters is calculated to

excite surprise and curiosity as to the nature of a passion that impels

men to self-exposure and privation, in a pursuit which presents nothing

but the monotonous recurrence of scenes of blood and suffering. Sir

S. BAKER, who has recently published, under the title of “_The Rifle

and the Hound in Ceylon_,” an account of his exploits in the forest,

gives us the assurance that “_all real sportsmen are tender-hearted

men, who shun cruelty to an animal, and are easily moved by a tale of

distress_,” and that although man is naturally bloodthirsty, and a

beast of prey by instinct, yet that the true sportsman is distinguished

from the rest of the human race by his “_love of nature and of noble

scenery_.” In support of this pretension to a gentler nature than the

rest of mankind, the author proceeds to attest his own abhorrence of

cruelty by narrating the sufferings of an old hound, which, although

“toothless,” he cheered on to assail a boar at bay, but the poor dog

recoiled “covered with blood, cut nearly in half, with a wound fourteen

inches in length, from the lower part of the belly, passing up the

flank, completely severing the muscles of the hind leg, and extending

up the spine; his hind leg having the appearance of being nearly off.”

In this state, forgetful of the character he had so lately given of

the true sportsman, as a lover of nature and a hater of cruelty, he

encouraged “the poor old dog,” as he calls him, to resume the fight

with the boar, which lasted for an hour, when he managed to call the

dogs off; and, perfectly exhausted, the mangled hound crawled out of

the jungle with several additional wounds, including a severe gash

in his throat. “He fell from exhaustion, and we made a litter with

two poles and a horsecloth to carry him home.” (P. 314.) If such were

the habitual enjoyments of this class of sportsmen, their motiveless

massacres would admit of no manly justification. In comparison with

them one is disposed to regard almost with favour the exploits of a

hunter like Major ROGERS, who is said to have applied the value of

the ivory obtained from his encounters towards the purchase of his

successive regimental commissions, and had, therefore, an object,

however disproportionate, in his slaughter of 1,400 elephants.

One gentleman in Ceylon, not less distinguished for his genuine

kindness of heart, than for his marvellous success in shooting

elephants, avowed to me that the eagerness with which he found himself

impelled to pursue them had often excited surprise in his own mind;

and although he had never read the theory of Lord Kames, or the

speculations of Vicesimus Knox, he had come to the conclusion that the

passion thus excited within him was a remnant of the hunter’s instinct,

with which man was originally endowed to enable him, by the chase, to

support existence in a state of nature, and which, though rendered

dormant by civilisation, had not been utterly eradicated.

This theory is at least more consistent and intelligible than the “love

of nature and scenery,” sentimentally propounded by the author quoted

above.

[105] The vulnerability of the elephant in this region of the head was

known to the ancients, and PLINY, describing a combat of elephants in

the amphitheatre at Rome, says, that one was slain by a single blow,

“pilum sub oculo adactum, in vitalia capitis venerat.” (Lib. viii. c.

7.) Notwithstanding the comparative facility of access to the brain

afforded at this spot, an ordinary leaden bullet is not certain to

penetrate, and frequently becomes flattened. The hunters, to counteract

this, are accustomed to harden the ball, by the introduction of a small

portion of type-metal along with the lead.

[106] “The head is so peculiarly formed that the ball either passes

over the brain, or lodges in the immensely solid bones and cartilages

that contain the roots of the tusks.... The brain of the African

species, he says, rests upon a plate of bone exactly above the roots of

the upper grinders and is thus wonderfully protected from a front shot,

as it lies so low that the ball passes over it when the elephant raises

his head, which he invariably does when in anger, until close to the

object of his attack.... I had always held the opinion that the African

elephant might be killed with the same facility as that of Ceylon _by a

forehead shot_; but I have found by much experience that I was entirely

wrong and that although by chance an African elephant may be killed by

the front shot, it is the exception to the rule.” (_The Albert Nyanza_,

vol. i. p. 277.)

[107] In Mr. GORDON CUMMING’S account of a _Hunter’s Life in South

Africa_, there is a narrative of his pursuit of a wounded elephant

which he had lamed by lodging a ball in its shoulder-blade. It limped

slowly towards a tree, against which it leaned itself in helpless

agony, whilst its pursuer seated himself in front of it, in safety, to

_boil his coffee_, and observe its sufferings. The story is continued

as follows:—“Having admired him for a considerable time, _I resolved

to make experiments on vulnerable points_; and approaching very near

I fired several bullets at different parts of his enormous skull. He

only acknowledged the shots by a salaam-like movement of his trunk,

with the point of which he gently touched the wounds with a striking

and peculiar action. Surprised and shocked at finding that I was only

prolonging the sufferings of the noble beast, which bore its trials

with such dignified composure, I resolved to finish the proceeding

with all possible despatch, and accordingly opened fire upon him from

the left side, aiming at the shoulder. I first fired _six_ shots with

the two-grooved rifle, which must have eventually proved mortal. After

which I fired _six_ shots at the same part with the Dutch six-pounder.

_Large tears now trickled from his eyes, which he slowly shut and

opened, his colossal frame shivered convulsively, and falling on his

side, he expired._” (Vol. ii. p. 10.)

In another place, after detailing the manner in which he assailed

a poor animal, he says: “I was loading and firing as fast as could

be, sometimes at the head, sometimes behind the shoulder, until my

elephant’s fore-quarter was a mass of gore; notwithstanding which he

continued to hold on, leaving the grass and branches of the forest

scarlet in his wake.... Having fired _thirty-five rounds_ with my

two-grooved rifle, I opened upon him with the Dutch six-pounder, and

when forty bullets had perforated his hide, he began for the first

time to evince signs of a dilapidated constitution.” The disgusting

description is closed thus: “Throughout the charge he repeatedly cooled

his person with large quantities of water, which he ejected from his

trunk over his sides and back, and just as the pangs of death came over

him, he stood trembling violently beside a thorn tree, and kept pouring

water into his bloody mouth until he died, when he pitched heavily

forward with the whole weight of his fore-quarters resting on the

points of his tusks. The strain was fair, and the tusks did not yield;

but the portion of his head in which the tusks were embedded, extending

a long way above the eye, yielded and burst with a muffled crash.”

(_Ib._ vol. ii. pp. 4, 5.)

[108] _The Rifle and the Hound in Ceylon_; by Sir S. BAKER, pp. 8, 9.

“Next to a rogue in ferocity, and even more persevering in the pursuit

of her victim, is a female elephant.” But he appends the significant

qualification, “_when her young one has been killed_.” (_Ibid._ p. 13.)

[109] _The Rifle and the Hound_, p. 13.

[110] _Menageries_ _etc._ “The Elephant,” ch. i. p. 21.

[111] _System of Phrenology_, by GEO. COMBE, vol. i. p. 256.

[112] Private letter from Capt. PHILIP PAYNE GALLWEY.

[113] Some years ago an elephant which had been wounded by a native,

near Hambangtotte, pursued the man into the town, followed him along

the street, trampled him to death in the bazaar before a crowd of

terrified spectators, and succeeded in making good its retreat to the

jungle.

[114] SHAW, in his _Zoology_, asserts that an elephant can run as

swiftly as a horse can gallop. London, 1800-6, vol. i. p. 216.

[115] The device of taking them by means of pitfalls still prevails

in India; but in addition to the difficulty of providing against that

caution with which the elephant is supposed to reconnoitre suspicious

ground, it has the further disadvantage of exposing him to injury

from bruises and dislocations in his fall. Still it was the mode of

capture employed by the Singhalese, and so late as 1750 WOLF relates

that the native chiefs of the Wanny, when capturing elephants for

the Dutch, made “pits some fathoms deep in those places whither the

elephant is wont to go in search of food, across which were laid poles

covered with branches and baited with the food of which he is fondest,

making towards which he finds himself taken unawares. Thereafter being

subdued by fright and exhaustion, he was assisted to raise himself to

the surface by means of hurdles and earth, which he placed underfoot

as they were thrown down to him, till he was enabled to step out on

solid ground, when the noosers and decoys were in readiness to tie him

up to the nearest tree.” (See WOLF’S _Life and Adventures_, p. 152.)

Shakspeare appears to have been acquainted with the plan of taking

elephants in pitfalls: Decius, encouraging the conspirators, reminds

them of Cæsar’s taste for anecdotes of animals, by which he would

undertake to lure him to his fate:

“For he loves to hear

That unicorns may be betrayed with trees,

And bears with glasses: _elephants with holes_.”

JULIUS CÆSAR, Act ii. Scene I.

[116] KNOX’S _Historical Relation of Ceylon_, A. D. 1681, part i. ch.

vi. p. 21.

[117] Previous to the death of the female elephant in the Zoological

Gardens, in the Regent’s Park, in 1851, Mr. MITCHELL, the Secretary,

caused measurements to be accurately made, and found the statement

of the Singhalese hunters to be strictly correct, the height at the

shoulders being precisely twice the circumference of the fore foot. In

an African elephant killed by Sir S. Baker, this proportion did not

hold good, as the circumference of the fore foot was 4 feet 11-1/4

inches, and the height at the shoulder 10 feet 6-1/2 inches. (BAKER,

_The Albert Nyanza_, vol. ii. p. 10.)

[118] Major SKINNER, the Chief Officer at the head of the Commission of

Roads, in Ceylon, in writing to me, mentions an anecdote illustrative

of the daring of the Panickeas. “I once saw,” he says, “a very

beautiful example of the confidence with which these fellows, from

their knowledge of the elephants, meet their worst defiance. It was

in Neuera-Kalawa; I was bivouacking on the bank of a river, and had

been kept out so late that I did not get to my tent until between 9

and 10 at night. On our return towards it we passed several single

elephants making their way to the nearest water, but at length we came

upon a large herd that had taken possession of the only road by which

we could pass, and which no intimidation would induce to move off. I

had some Panickeas with me; they knew the herd, and counselled extreme

caution. After trying every device we could think of for a length

of time, a little old Moorman of the party came to me and requested

we should all retire to a distance. He then took a couple of chules

(flambeaux of dried wood, or coco-nut leaves), one in each hand, and

waving them above his head till they flamed out fiercely, he advanced

at a deliberate pace to within a few yards of the elephant who was

acting as leader of the party, and who was growling and trumpeting in

his rage, and flourished the flaming torches in his face. The effect

was instantaneous; the whole herd dashed away in a panic, bellowing,

screaming, and crushing through the underwood, whilst we availed

ourselves of the open path to make our way to our tents.”

[119] In the _Philosophical Transactions_ for 1701, there is “An

Account of the taking of Elephants in Ceylon, by Mr. STRACHAN, a

Physician who lived seventeen years there,” in which the author

describes the manner in which they were shipped by the Dutch, at

Matura, Galle, and Negombo. A piece of strong sail-cloth having been

wrapped round the elephant’s chest and stomach he was forced into the

sea between two tame ones, and there made fast to a boat. The tame ones

then returned to land, and he swam after the boat to the ship, where

tackle was reeved to the sail-cloth, and he was hoisted on board.

“But a better way has been invented lately,” says Mr. Strachan; “a

large flat-bottomed vessel is prepared, covered with planks like a

floor; so that this floor is almost of a height with the key. Then

the sides of the key and the vessel are adorned with green branches,

so that the elephant sees no water till he is in the ship.” (_Phil.

Trans._ vol. xxiii. No. 227, p. 1051.)

[120] VALENTYN, _Oud en Nieuw Oost-Indien_, ch. xv. p. 272.

[121] It is thus spelled by WOLF, in his _Life and Adventures_, p. 144.

_Corral_ is at the present day a household word in South America, and

especially in La Plata, to designate an _enclosure for cattle_.

[122] See Sir J. EMERSON TENNENT’S _Ceylon_ vol. I. pt. III. ch. xii.

p. 415.

[123] Another enormous mass of gneiss is called the Kuruminiagalla,

or the Beetle-rock, from its resemblance in shape to the back of that

insect, and hence is said to have been derived the name of the town,

_Kuruna-galle_ or Korne-galle.

[124] FORBES quotes a Tamil conveyance of land, the purchaser of

which is to “possess and enjoy it as long as the sun and the moon,

the earth and its vegetables, the mountains and the River Cauvery

exist.” (_Oriental Memoirs_, vol. ii. chap. ii.) It will not fail to

be observed, that the same figure was employed in Hebrew literature as

a type of duration—“They shall fear thee, _so long as the sun and moon

endure_; throughout all generations.” (Psalm lxxii. 5, 17.)

[125] _Pentaptera paniculata._

[126] _Entada pursætha._

[127] Fire, the sound of a horn, and the grunting of a boar are the

three things which the Greeks, in the middle ages, believed the

elephant specially to dislike:

Πῦρ δὲ πτοεῖται καὶ κριὸν κερασφόρον,

Καὶ τῶν μονιῶν τὴν βοὴν τὴν ἀθρόαν.

PHILE, _Expositio de Elephante_, 1. 177.

[128] The other elephant, a fine tusker, which belonged to Dehigam

Raté-mahat-meya, continued in extreme excitement throughout all the

subsequent operations of the capture, and at last, after attempting

to break its way into the corral, shaking the bars with its forehead

and tusks, it went off in a state of frenzy into the jungle. A few

days after the Aratchy went in search of it with a female decoy, and

watching its approach, sprang fairly on the infuriated beast, with a

pair of sharp hooks in his hands, which he pressed into tender parts in

front of the shoulder, and thus held the elephant firmly till chains

were passed over its legs, and it permitted itself to be led quietly

away.

[129] In some of the elephant hunts conducted in the southern provinces

of Ceylon by the earlier British Governors, as many as 170 and 200

elephants were secured in a single corral, of which a portion only

were taken out for the public service, and the rest shot, the motive

being to rid the neighbourhood of them, and thus protect the crops

from destruction. On the occasion here described, the object being to

secure only as many as were required for the Government stud, it was

not sought to entrap more than could conveniently be attended to and

trained after capture.

[130] This elephant is since dead; she grew infirm and diseased, and

died at Colombo in 1848. Her skeleton is now in the Museum of the

Natural History Society at Belfast.

[131] The fact of the elephant exhibiting timidity, on having a long

rod pointed towards him, was known to the Romans; and PLINY, quoting

from the annals of PISO, relates, that in order to inculcate contempt

for want of courage in the elephant, they were introduced into the

circus during the triumph of METELLUS, after the conquest of the

Carthaginians in Sicily, and _driven round the area by workmen holding

blunted spears_,—“Ab operariis hastas præpilatas habentibus, per circum

totum actos.” (_Nat. Hist._ lib. viii. c. 6.)

[132] “In a corral, to be on a tame elephant, seems to insure perfect

immunity from the attacks of the wild ones. I once saw the old chief

Mollegodde ride in amongst a herd of wild elephants, on a small

elephant; so small that the Adigar’s head was on a level with the back

of the wild animals: I felt very nervous, but he rode right in among

them, and received not the slightest molestation.”—_Letter from Major_

SKINNER.

The Wild Elephant and the Method of Capturing and Taming it in Ceylon · 第 4 / 5 章