pure, shows no decided aversion to it when discoloured with mud[1]; and
the eagerness with which he precipitates himself into the tanks and
streams attests his exquisite enjoyment of the fresh coolness, which to
him is the chief attraction. In crossing deep rivers, although his
rotundity and buoyancy enable him to swim with a less immersion than
other quadrupeds, he generally prefers to sink till no part of his huge
body is visible except the tip of his trunk, through which he breathes,
moving beneath the surface, and only now and then raising his head to
look that he is keeping the proper direction.[2] In the dry season the
scanty streams which, during the rains, are sufficient to convert the
rivers of the low country into torrents, often entirely disappear,
leaving only broad expanses of dry sand, which they have swept down with
them from the hills. In this the elephants contrive to sink wells for
their own use by scooping out the sand to the depth of four or five
feet, and leaving a hollow for the percolation of the spring. But as the
weight of the elephant would force in the side if left perpendicular,
one approach is always formed with such a gradient that he can reach the
water with his trunk without disturbing the surrounding sand.
[Footnote 1: 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.
[Greek:
"Ydor de pineisynchythen prin anpinoi
To gar dieides akribos diaptuei."]
--PHILE _de Eleph_., i. 144.]
[Footnote 2: 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.]
[Illustration]
I have reason to believe, although the fact has not been authoritatively
stated by naturalists, that the stomach of the elephant will be found to
include a section analogous to that possessed by some of the ruminants,
calculated to contain a supply of water as a provision against
emergencies. The fact of his being enabled to retain a quantity of water
and discharge it at pleasure has been long known to every observer of
the habits of the animal; but the proboscis has always been supposed to
be "his water-reservoir,"[1] and the theory of an internal receptacle
has not been discussed. The truth is that the anatomy of the elephant is
even yet but imperfectly understood[2], and, although some peculiarities
of his stomach were observed at an early period, and even their
configuration described, the function of the abnormal portion remained
undetermined, and has been only recently conjectured. An elephant which
belonged to Louis XIV. died at Versailles in 1681 at the age of
seventeen, and an account of its dissection was published in the
_Mémoires pour servir à l'Histoire Naturelle_, under the authority of
the Academy of Sciences, in which the unusual appendages of the stomach
are pointed out with sufficient particularity, but no suggestion is made
as to their probable uses."[3]
[Footnote 1: BRODERIP'S _Zoological Recreations_, p. 259.]
[Footnote 2: 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
subjects, 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 oesophagus. 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
from which science will reap advantage, of devoting a patient attention
to the internal structure of this interesting animal.]
[Footnote 3: 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 irrégulierement; le reste de parois intérieures étoit
percé de plusieurs petits trous et par de plus grands qui
correspondoîent à des grains glanduleux."--BUFFON, _Hist. Nat_., vol.
xi. p. 109.]
A writer in the _Quarterly Review_ for December 1850, says that "CAMPER
and other comparative anatomists have shown that the left, or cardiac
end of the stomach in the elephant is adapted, by several wide folds of
lining membrane, to serve as a receiver for water;" but this is scarcely
correct, for although CAMPER has accurately figured the external form of
the stomach, he disposes of the question of the interior functions with
the simple remark that its folds "semblent en faire une espèce de
division particulière."[1] In like manner SIR EVERARD HOME, in his
_Lectures on Comparative Anatomy_, has not only carefully described the
form of the elephant's stomach, and furnished a drawing of it even more
accurate than CAMPER; but he has equally omitted to assign any purpose
to so strange a formation, contenting himself with observing that the
structure is a peculiarity, and that one of the remarkable folds nearest
the orifice of the diaphragm appears to act as a valve, so that the
portion beyond may be considered as an appendage similar to that of the
hog and the _peccary_.[2]
[Footnote 1: "L'extrémité voisine du cardia se termine par une poche
très-considérable et doublée à l'intérieure du quatorze valvules
orbiculaires que semblent en faire une espèce de division
particulière."--CAMPER, _Description Anatomique d'un Eléphant Mâle_, p.
37, tabl. IX.]
[Footnote 2: "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 oesophagus 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 oesophagus 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.]
[Illustration: ELEPANT'S STOMACH.]
The appendage thus alluded to by Sir EVERARD HOME is the grand
"cul-de-sac," noticed by the Académic des Sciences, and the "division
particulière," figured by CAMPER. It is of sufficient dimensions to
contain ten gallons of water, and by means of the valve above alluded
to, it can be shut off from the chamber devoted to the process of
digestion. Professor OWEN is probably the first who, not from an
autopsy, but from the mere inspection of the drawings of CAMPER and
HOME, ventured to assert (in lectures hitherto unpublished), that the
uses of this section of the elephant's stomach may be analogous to those
ascertained to belong to a somewhat similar arrangement in the stomach
of the camel, one cavity of which is exclusively employed as a reservoir
for water, and performs no function the preparation of food.[1]
[Footnote 1: 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 elephants belongs to the
Pachydermata.]
[Illustration]
Whilst Professor OWEN was advancing this conjecture, another comparative
anatomist, from the examination of another portion of the structure of
the elephant, was led to a somewhat similar conclusion. Dr. HARRISON of
Dublin had, in 1847, an opportunity of dissecting the body of an
elephant which had suddenly died; and in the course of his examination
of the thoracic viscera, he observed that an unusually close connection
existed between the trachea and oesophagus, which he found to depend on
a muscle unnoticed by any previous anatomist, connecting the back of the
former with the forepart of the latter, along which the fibres descend
and can be distinctly traced to the cardiac orifice of the stomach.
Imperfectly acquainted with the habits and functions of the elephant in
a state of nature, Dr. HARRISON found it difficult to pronounce as to
the use of this very peculiar structure; but looking to the intimate
connection between the mechanism concerned in the functions of
respiration and deglutition, and seeing that the proboscis served in a
double capacity as an instrument of voice and an organ for the
prehension of food, he ventured (apparently without adverting to the
abnormal form of the stomach) to express the opinion that this muscle,
viewing its attachment to the trachea, might either have some influence
in raising the diaphragm, and thereby assisting in expiration, "_or that
it might raise the cardiac orifice of the stomach, and so aid this organ
to regurgitate a portion of its contents into the oesophagus_."[1]
[Footnote 1: _Proceed. Roy. Irish Acad_., vol. iv. p. 133.]
Dr. HARRISON, on the reflection that "we have no satisfactory evidence
that the animal ever ruminates," thought it useless to speculate on the
latter supposition as to the action of the newly discovered muscle, and
rather inclined to the surmise that it was designed to assist the
elephant in producing the remarkable sound through his proboscis known
as "trumpeting;" but there is little room to doubt that of the two the
rejected hypothesis was the more correct one. I have elsewhere described
the occurrence to which I was myself a witness[1], of elephants
inserting their proboscis in their mouths, and withdrawing gallons of
water, which could only have been contained in the receptacle figured by
CAMPER and HOME, and of which the true uses were discerned by the clear
intellect of Professor OWEN. I was not, till very recently, aware that a
similar observation as to the remarkable habit of the elephant, had been
made by the author of the _Ayeen Akbery_, in his account of the _Feel_
_Kaneh_, or elephant stables of the Emperor Akbar, in which he says, "an
elephant frequently with his trunk takes water out of his stomach and
sprinkles himself with it, and it is not in the least offensive."[2]
FORBES, in his Oriental Memoirs, quotes this passage of the _Ayeen
Akbery_, but without a remark; nor does any European writer with whose
works I am acquainted appear to have been cognisant of the peculiarity
in question.
[Footnote 1: In the account of an elephant corral, chap. vi.]
[Footnote 2: _Ayeen Akbery_, transl. by GLADWIN, vol i. pt. i, p. 147.]
[Illustration: WATER-CELLS IN THE STOMACH OF THE CAMEL.]
It is to be hoped that Professor OWEN'S dissection of the young
elephant, recently arrived, may serve to decide this highly interesting
point.[1] Should scientific investigation hereafter more clearly
establish the fact that, in this particular, the structure of the
elephant is assimilated to that of the llama and the camel, it will be
regarded as more than a common coincidence, that an apparatus, so unique
in its purpose and action, should thus have been conferred by the
Creator on the three animals which in sultry climates are, by this
arrangement, enabled to traverse arid regions in the service of man.[2]
To show this peculiar organization where it attains its fullest
development, I have given a sketch of the water-cells, in the stomach of
the camel on the preceding page.
[Footnote 1: 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.]
[Footnote 2: The buffalo and the humped cattle of India, which are used
for draught and burden, have, I believe, a development of the
organisation of the reticulum which enables the ruminants generally, to
endure thirst, and abstain from water, somewhat more conspicuous than in
the rest of their congeners; but nothing that approaches in singularity
of character to the distinct cavities in the stomach exhibited by the
three animals above alluded to.]
The _food_ of the elephant is so abundant, that in feeding he never
appears to be impatient or voracious, but rather to play with the leaves
and branches on which he leisurely feeds. In riding by places where a
herd has recently halted, I have sometimes seen the bark peeled
curiously off the twigs, as though it had been done in mere dalliance.
In the same way in eating grass the elephant selects a tussac which he
draws from the ground by a dexterous twist of his trunk, and nothing can
be more graceful than the ease with which, before conveying it to his
mouth, he beats the earth from its roots by striking it gently upon his
fore-leg. A coco-nut he first rolls under foot, to detach the strong
outer bark, then stripping off with his trunk the thick layer of fibre
within, he places the shell in his mouth, and swallows with evident
relish the fresh liquid which flows as he crushes it between his
grinders.
The natives of the peninsula of Jaffna always look for the periodical
appearance of the elephants, at the precise time when the fruit of the
palmyra palm begins to fall to the ground from ripeness. In like manner
in the eastern provinces where the custom prevails of cultivating what
is called _chena_ land (by clearing a patch of forest for the purpose of
raising a single crop, after which the ground is abandoned, and reverts
to jungle again), although a single elephant may not have been seen in
the neighbourhood during the early stages of the process, the Moormen,
who are the cultivators of this class, will predict their appearance
with almost unerring confidence so soon as the grains shall have begun
to ripen; and although the crop comes to maturity at different periods
in different districts, herds are certain to be seen at each in
succession, as soon as it is ready to be cut. In these well-timed
excursions, they resemble the bison of North America, which, by a
similarly mysterious instinct, finds its way to portions of the distant
prairies, where accidental fires have been followed by a growth of
tender grass. Although the fences around these _chenas_ are little more
than lines of reeds loosely fastened together, they are sufficient, with
the presence of a single watcher, to prevent the entrance of the
elephants, who wait patiently till the rice and _coracan_ have been
removed, and the watcher withdrawn; and, then finding gaps in the fence,
they may be seen gleaning among the leavings and the stubble; and they
take their departure when these are exhausted, apparently in the
direction of some other _chena_, which they have ascertained to be about
to be cut.
There is something still unexplained in the dread which an elephant
always exhibits on approaching a fence, and the reluctance which he
displays to face the slightest artificial obstruction to his passage. In
the fine old tank of Tissa-weva, close by Anarajapoora, the natives
cultivate grain, during the dry season, around the margin where the
ground has been left bare by the subsidence of the water. These little
patches of rice they enclose with small sticks an inch in diameter and
five or six feet in height, such as would scarcely serve to keep out a
wild hog if he attempted to force his way through. Passages of from ten
to twenty feet wide are left between each field, to permit the wild
elephants, which abound in the vicinity to make their nocturnal visits
to the water still remaining in the tank. Night after night these open
pathways are frequented by immense herds, but the tempting corn is never
touched, nor is a single fence disturbed, although the merest, movement
of a trunk would be sufficient to demolish the fragile structure. Yet
the same spots, the fences being left open as soon as the grain has been
cut and carried home, are eagerly entered by the elephants to glean
amongst the stubble.
Sportsmen observe that an elephant, even when enraged by a wound, will
hesitate to charge an assailant across an intervening hedge, but will
hurry along it to seek for an opening. It is possible that, on the part
of the elephant, there may be some instinctive consciousness, that owing
to his superior bulk, he is exposed to danger from sources that might be
perfectly harmless in the case of lighter animals, and hence his
suspicion that every fence may conceal a snare or pitfall. Some similar
apprehension is apparent in the deer, which shrinks from attempting a
fence of wire, although it will clear without hesitation a solid wall of
greater height.
At the same time, the caution with which the elephant is supposed to
approach insecure ground and places of doubtful[1] solidity, appears to
me, so far as my own observation and experience extend, to be
exaggerated, and the number of temporary bridges which are annually
broken down by elephants in all parts of Ceylon, is sufficient to show
that, although in captivity, and when familiar with such structures, the
tame ones may, and doubtless do, exhibit all the wariness attributed to
them; yet, in a state of liberty, and whilst unaccustomed to such
artificial appliances, their instincts are not sufficient to ensure
their safety. Besides, the fact is adverted to elsewhere[2], that the
chiefs of the Wanny, during the sovereignty of the Dutch, were
accustomed to take in pitfalls the elephants which they rendered as
tribute to government.
[Footnote 1: "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, &c._ "The
Elephant," vol. i. pp. 17, 19, 66.]
[Footnote 2: WOLF'S _Life and Adventures_, p. 151. See p. 115, _note_.]
A fact illustrative at once of the caution and the spirit of curiosity
with which an elephant regards an unaccustomed object has been
frequently mentioned to me by the officers engaged in opening roads
through the forest. On such occasions the wooden "tracing pegs" which
they are obliged to drive into the ground to mark the levels taken
during the day, will often be withdrawn by the elephants during the
night, to such an extent as frequently to render it necessary to go over
the work a second time, in order to replace them.[1]
[Footnote 1: _Private Letter_ from Dr. DAVY, author of _An Account of
the Interior of Ceylon_.]
Colonel HARDY, formerly Deputy Quarter-Master-General in Ceylon, when
proceeding, about the year 1820, to a military out-post in the
south-east of the island, imprudently landed in an uninhabited part of
the coast, intending to take a short cut through the forest, to his
destination. He not only miscalculated the distance, but, on the
approach of nightfall, he was chased by a vicious rogue elephant. The
pursuer was nearly upon him, when, to gain time, he flung down a small
dressing-case, which he happened to be carrying. The device was
successful; the elephant halted and minutely examined its contents, and
thus gave the colonel time to effect his escape.[1]
[Footnote 1: 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 water-works, the pillars of which it several times
broke down--its latest fancy being to wrench off the taps." This
elephant has since been shot.]
As regards the general sagacity of the elephant, although it has not
been over-rated in the instances of those whose powers have been largely
developed in captivity, an undue estimate has been formed in relation to
them whilst still untamed. The difference of instincts and habits
renders it difficult to institute a just comparison between them and
other animals. CUVIER[1] is disposed to ascribe the exalted idea that
prevails of their intellect to the feats which an elephant performs with
that unique instrument, its trunk, combined with an imposing expression
of countenance: but he records his own conviction that in sagacity it in
no way excels the dog, and some other species of Carnivora. If there be
a superiority, I am disposed to award it to the dog, not from any excess
of natural capacity, but from the higher degree of development
consequent on his more intimate domestication and association with man.
[Footnote 1: CUVIER, _Règne Animal_. "Les Mammiferes," p. 280.]