partially concealed by roots and leaves beneath a tree on which one of
the party is stationed, whose business it is to lift it suddenly by
means of a cord, raising it on the elephant's leg at the moment when his
companion has succeeded in provoking him to place his foot within the
circle, the other end having been previously made fast to the stem of
the tree. Should the noosing be effected in open ground, and no tree of
sufficient strength at hand round which to wind the rope, one of the
Moors, allowing himself to be pursued by the enraged elephant, entices
him towards the nearest grove; where his companion, dexterously laying
hold of the rope as it trails along the ground, suddenly coils it round
a suitable stem, and brings the fugitive to a stand still. On finding
himself thus arrested, the natural impulse of the captive is to turn on
the man who is engaged in making fast the rope, a movement which it is
the duty of his colleague to present by running up close to the
elephant's head and provoking the animal to confront him by irritating
gesticulations and taunting shouts of _dah! dah!_ a monosyllable, the
sound of which the elephant peculiarly dislikes. Meanwhile the first
assailant, having secured one noose, comes up from behind with another,
with which, amidst the vain rage and struggles of the victim, he entraps
a fore leg, the rope being, as before, secured to another tree in front,
and the whole four feet having been thus entangled, the capture is
completed.
A shelter is then run up with branches, to protect their prisoner from
the sun, and the hunters proceed to build a wigwam for themselves in
front of him, kindling their fires for cooking, and making all the
necessary arrangements for remaining day and night on the spot to await
the process of subduing and taming his rage. In my journeys through the
forest I have come unexpectedly on the halting place of adventurous
hunters when thus engaged; and on one occasion, about sunrise, in
ascending the steep ridge from the bed of the Malwatte river, the
foremost rider of our party was suddenly driven back by a furious
elephant, which we found picketed by two Panickeas on the crest of the
bank. In such a position, the elephant soon ceases to struggle; and what
with the exhaustion of rage and resistance, the terror of fire which he
dreads, and the constant annoyance of smoke which he detests, in a very
short time, a few weeks at the most, his spirit becomes subdued; and
being plentifully supplied with plantains and fresh food, and indulged
with water, in which he luxuriates, he grows so far reconciled to his
keepers that they at length venture to remove him to their own village,
or to the sea-side for shipment to India.
No part of the hunter's performances exhibits greater skill and audacity
than this first forced march of the recently captured elephant from the
great central forests to the sea-coast. As he is still too morose to
submit to be ridden, and as it would be equally impossible to lead or to
drive him by force, the ingenuity of the captors is displayed in
alternately irritating and eluding him, but always so attracting his
attention as to allure him along in the direction in which they want him
to go. Some assistance is derived from the rope by which the original
capture was effected, and which, as it serves to make him safe at night,
is never removed from the leg till his taming is sufficiently advanced
to permit of his being entrusted with partial liberty.
In Ceylon the principal place for exporting these animals to India is
Manaar, on the western coast, to which the Arabs from the continent
resort, bringing with them horses to be bartered for elephants. In order
to reach the sea, open plains must be traversed, across which it
requires the utmost courage, agility, and patience of the Moors to coax
their reluctant charge. At Manaar the elephants are usually detained
till any wound on the leg caused by the rope has been healed, when the
shipment is effected in the most primitive manner. It being next to
impossible to induce the still untamed creature to walk on board, and no
mechanical contrivances being provided to ship him; a dhoney, or native
boat, of about forty tons' burthen, and about three parts filled with
the strong ribbed leaves of the Palmyra palm, is brought alongside the
quay in front of the Old Dutch Fort, and lashed so that the gunwale may
be as nearly as possible on a line with the level of the wharf. The
elephant being placed with his back to the water is forced by goads to
retreat till his hind legs go over the side of the quay, but the main
contest commences when it is attempted to disengage his fore feet from
the shore, and force him to entrust himself on board. The scene becomes
exciting from the screams and trumpeting of the elephants, the shouts of
the Arabs, the calls of the Moors, and the rushing of the crowd.
Meanwhile the huge creature strains every nerve to regain the land; and
the day is often consumed before his efforts are overcome, and he finds
himself fairly afloat. The same dhoney will take from four to five
elephants, who place themselves athwart it, and exhibit amusing
adroitness in accommodating their movements to the rolling of the little
vessel; and in this way they are ferried across the narrow strait which
separates the continent of India from Ceylon.[1]
[Footnote 1: 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.]
But the feat of ensnaring and subduing a single elephant, courageous as
it is, and demonstrative of the supremacy with which man wields his
"dominion over every beast of the earth," falls far short of the daring
exploit of capturing a whole herd: when from thirty to one hundred wild
elephants are entrapped in one vast decoy. The mode of effecting this,
as it is practised in Ceylon, is no doubt imitated, but with
considerable modifications, from the methods prevalent in various parts
of India. It was introduced by the Portuguese, and continued by the
Dutch, the latter of whom had two elephant hunts in each year, and
conducted their operations on so large a scale, that the annual export
after supplying the government establishments, was from one hundred to
one hundred and fifty elephants, taken principally in the vicinity of
Matura, in the southern province, and marched for shipment to Manaar.[1]
[Footnote 1: VALENTYN. _Oud en Nieuw Oost-Indien_, ch. xv. p. 272.]
The custom in Bengal is to construct a strong enclosure (called a
_keddah_), in the heart of the forest, formed of the trunks of trees
firmly secured by transverse beams and buttresses, and leaving the gate
for the entrance of the elephants. A second enclosure, opening from the
first, contains water (if possible a rivulet): this, again, communicates
with a third, which terminates in a funnel-shaped passage, too narrow to
admit of an elephant turning, and within this the captives being driven
in line, are secured with ropes introduced from the outside, and led
away in custody of tame ones trained for the purpose.
The _keddah_ being prepared, the first operation is to drive the
elephants towards it, for which purpose vast bodies of men fetch a
compass in the forest around the haunts of the herds, contracting it by
degrees, till they complete the enclosure of a certain area, round which
they kindle fires, and cut footpaths through the jungle, to enable the
watchers to communicate and combine. All this is performed in cautious
silence and by slow approaches, to avoid alarming the herd. A fresh
circle nearer to the _keddah_ is then formed in the same way, and into
this the elephants are admitted from the first one, the hunters
following from behind, and lighting new fires around the newly inclosed
space. Day after day the process is repeated; till the drove having been
brought sufficiently close to make the final rush, the whole party close
in from all sides, and with drums, guns, shouts, and flambeaux, force
the terrified animals to enter the fatal enclosure, when the passage is
barred behind them, and retreat rendered impossible.
Their efforts to escape are repressed by the crowd, who drive them back
from the stockade with spears and flaming torches; and at last compel
them to pass on into the second enclosure. Here they are detained for a
short time, and their feverish exhaustion relieved by free access to
water;--until at last, being tempted by food, or otherwise induced to
trust themselves in the narrow outlet, they are one after another made
fast by ropes, passed in through the palisade; and picketed in the
adjoining woods to enter on their course of systematic training.
These arrangements vary in different districts of Bengal; and the method
adopted in Ceylon differs in many essential particulars from them all;
the Keddah, or, as it is here called, the corral or _korahl_[1] (from
the Portuguese _curral_, a "cattle-pen"), consists of but one enclosure
instead of three. A stream or watering-place is not uniformly enclosed
within it, because, although water is indispensable after the long
thirst and exhaustion of the captives, it has been found that a pond or
rivulet within the corral itself adds to the difficulty of leading them
out, and increases their reluctance to leave it; besides which, the
smaller ones are often smothered by the others in their eagerness to
crowd into the water. The funnel-shaped outlet is also dispensed with,
as the animals are liable to bruise and injure themselves within the
narrow stockade; and should one of them die in it, as is too often the
case in the midst of the struggle, the difficulty of removing so great a
carcase is extreme. The noosing and securing them, therefore, takes
place in Ceylon within the area of the first enclosure into which they
enter, and the dexterity and daring displayed in this portion of the
work far surpasses that of merely attaching the rope through the
openings of the paling, as in an Indian keddah.
[Footnote 1: 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_.]
One result of this change in the system is manifested in the increased
proportion of healthy elephants which are eventually secured and trained
out of the number originally enclosed. The reason of this is obvious:
under the old arrangements, months were consumed in the preparatory
steps of surrounding and driving in the herds, which at last arrived so
wasted by excitement and exhausted by privation that numbers died within
the corral itself, and still more died during the process of training.
But in later years the labour of months is reduced to weeks, and the
elephants are driven in fresh and full of vigour, so that comparatively
few are lost either in the enclosure or the stables. A conception of the
whole operation from commencement to end will be best conveyed by
describing the progress of an elephant corral as I witnessed it in 1847
in the great forest on the banks of the Alligator River, the Kimbul-oya,
in the district of Kornegalle, about thirty miles north-west of Kandy.
Kornegalle, or Kurunai-galle, was one of the ancient capitals of the
island, and the residence of its kings from A.D. 1319 to 1347.[1] The
dwelling-house of the principal civil officer in charge of the district
now occupies the site of the former palace, and the ground is strewn
with fragments of columns and carved stones, the remnants of the royal
buildings. The modern town consists of the bungalows of the European
officials, each surrounded with its own garden; two or three streets
inhabited by Dutch descendants and by Moors; and a native bazaar, with
the ordinary array of rice and curry stuffs and cooking chattees of
brass or burnt clay.
[Footnote 1: See SIR J. EMERSON TENNENT'S _Ceylon_, Vol. I. Pt. III. ch.
xii. p. 415.]
The charm of the village is the unusual beauty of its position. It rests
within the shade of an enormous rock of gneiss upwards of 600 feet in
height, nearly denuded of verdure, and so rounded and worn by time that
it has acquired the form of a couchant elephant, from which it derives
its name of Ætagalla, the Rock of the Tusker.[1] But Ætagalla is only
the last eminence in a range of similarly-formed rocky mountains, which
here terminate abruptly; and, which from the fantastic shapes into which
their gigantic outlines have been wrought by the action of the
atmosphere, are called by the names of the Tortoise Rock, the Eel Rock,
and the Rock of the Tusked Elephant. So impressed are the Singhalese by
the aspect of these stupendous masses that in ancient grants lands are
conveyed in perpetuity, or "so long as the sun and the moon, so long as
Ætagalla and Andagalla shall endure."[2]
[Footnote 1: 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 Kornegalle.]
[Footnote 2: 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.]
Kornegalle is the resort of Buddhists from the remotest parts of the
island, who come to visit an ancient temple on the summit of the great
rock, to which access is had from the valley below by means of steep
paths and steps hewn out of the solid stone. Here the chief object of
veneration is a copy of the sacred footstep hollowed in the granite,
similar to that which confers sanctity on Adam's Peak, the towering apex
of which, about forty miles distant, the pilgrims can discern from
Ætagalla.
At times the heat at Kornegalle is intense, in consequence of the
perpetual glow diffused from these granite cliffs. The warmth they
acquire during the blaze of noon becomes almost intolerable towards
evening, and the sultry night is too short to permit them to cool
between the setting and the rising of the sun. The district is also
liable to occasional droughts when the watercourses fail, and the tanks
are dried up. One of these calamities occurred about the period of my
visit, and such was the suffering of the wild animals that numbers of
crocodiles and bears made their way into the town to drink at the wells.
The soil is prolific in the extreme; rice, cotton, and dry grain are
cultivated largely in the valley. Every cottage is surrounded by gardens
of coco-nuts, arecas, jak-fruit and coffee; the slopes, under tillage,
are covered with luxuriant vegetation, and, as far as the eye can reach
on every side, there are dense forests intersected by streams, in the
shade of which the deer and the elephant abound.
In 1847 arrangements were made for one of the great elephant hunts for
the supply of the Civil Engineer's Department, and the spot fixed on by
Mr. Morris, the Government officer who conducted the corral, was on the
banks of the Kimbul river, about fifteen miles from Kornegalle. The
country over which we rode to the scene of the approaching capture
showed traces of the recent drought, the fields lay to a great extent
untilled, owing to the want of water, and the tanks, almost reduced to
dryness, were covered with the leaves of the rose-coloured lotus.
Our cavalcade was as oriental as the scenery through which it moved; the
Governor and the officers of his staff and household formed a long
cortege, escorted by the native attendants, horse-keepers, and
foot-runners. The ladies were borne in palankins, and the younger
individuals of the party carried in chairs raised on poles, and covered
with cool green awnings made of the fresh leaves of the talipat palm.
After traversing the cultivated lands, the path led across open glades
of park-like verdure and beauty, and at last entered the great-forest
under the shade of ancient trees wreathed to their crowns with climbing
plants and festooned by natural garlands of convolvulus and orchids.
Here silence reigned, disturbed only by the murmuring hum of glittering
insects, or the shrill clamour of the plum-headed parroquet and the
flute-like calls of the golden oriole.
We crossed the broad sandy beds of two rivers over-arched by tall trees,
the most conspicuous of which is the Kombook[1], from the calcined bark
of which the natives extract a species of lime to be used with their
betel. And from the branches hung suspended over the water the gigantic
pods of the huge puswæl bean[2], the sheath of which measures six feet
long by five or six inches broad.
[Footnote 1: _Pentaptera paniculata_.]
[Footnote 2: _Entada pursætha_.]
On ascending the steep bank of the second stream, we found ourselves in
front of the residences which had been extemporised for our party in the
immediate vicinity of the corral. These cool and enjoyable structures
were formed of branches and thatched with palm leaves and fragrant lemon
grass; and in addition to a dining-room and suites of bedrooms fitted
with tent furniture, they included kitchens, stables, and storerooms,
all run up by the natives in the course of a few days.
In former times, the work connected with these elephant hunts was
performed by the "forced labour" of the natives, as part of that feudal
service which under the name of Raja-kariya was extorted from the
Singhalese during the rule of their native sovereigns. This system was
continued by the Portuguese and Dutch, and prevailed under the British
Government till its abolition by the Earl of Ripon in 1832. Under it
from fifteen hundred to two thousand men superintended by their headmen,
used to be occupied, in constructing the corral, collecting the
elephants, maintaining the cordon of watch-fires and watchers, and
conducting all the laborious operations of the capture. Since the
abolition of Raja-kariya, however, no difficulty has been found in
obtaining the voluntary co-operation of the natives on these exciting
occasions. The government defrays the expense of that portion of the
preparations which involves actual cost,--for the skilled labour
expended in the erection of the corral and its appurtenances, and the
providing of spears, ropes, arms, flutes, drums, gunpowder, and other
necessaries for the occasion.
The period of the year selected is that which least interferes with the
cultivation of the rice-lands (in the interval between seed time and
harvest), and the people themselves, in addition to the excitement and
enjoyment of the sport, have a personal interest in reducing the number
of elephants, which inflict serious injury on their gardens and growing
crops. For a similar reason the priests encourage the practice, because
the elephants destroy their sacred Bo-trees, of the leaves of which they
are passionately fond; besides which it promotes the facility for
obtaining elephants for the processions of the temples: and the
Rata-mahat-mayas and headmen have a pride in exhibiting the number of
retainers who follow them to the field, and the performances of the tame
elephants which they lend for the business of the corral. Thus vast
numbers of the peasantry are voluntarily occupied for many weeks in
putting up the stockades, cutting paths through the jungle, and
relieving the beaters who are engaged in surrounding and driving in the
elephants.
In selecting the scene for the hunt a position is chosen which lies on
some old and frequented route of the animals, in their periodical
migrations in search of forage and water; and the vicinity of a stream
is indispensable, not only for the supply of the elephants during the
time spent in inducing them to approach the enclosure, but to enable
them to bathe and cool themselves throughout the process of training
after capture.
[Illustration: GROUND PLAN OF A CORRAL, AND METHOD OF FENCING IT.]
In constructing the corral itself, care is taken to avoid disturbing the
trees or the brushwood within the included space, and especially on the
side by which the elephants are to approach, where it is essential to
conceal the stockade as much as possible by the density of the foliage.
The trees used in the structure are from ten to twelve inches in
diameter; and are sunk about three feet in the earth, so as to leave a
length of from twelve to fifteen feet above ground; with spaces between
each stanchion sufficiently wide to permit a man to glide through. The
uprights are made fast by transverse beams, to which they are lashed
securely by ratans and flexible climbing plants, or as they are called
"jungle ropes," and the whole is steadied by means of forked supports,
which grasp the tie beams, and prevent the work from being driven
outward by the rush of the wild elephants.
On the occasion I am now attempting to describe, the space thus enclosed
was about 500 feet in length by 250 wide. At one end an entrance was
left open, fitted with sliding bars, so prepared as to be capable of
being instantly shut;--and from each angle of the end by which the
elephants were to approach, two lines of the same strong fencing were
continued, and cautiously concealed by the trees; so that if, instead of
entering by the open passage, the herd should swerve to right, or left,
they would find themselves suddenly stopped and forced to retrace their
course to the gate.
The preparations were completed by placing a stage for the Governor's
party on a group of the nearest trees looking down into the enclosure,
so that a view could be had of the entire proceeding, from the entrance
of the herd, to the leading out of the captive elephants.
It is hardly necessary to observe that the structure here described,
massive as it is, would be entirely ineffectual to resist the shock, if
assaulted by the full force of an enraged elephant; and accidents have
sometimes happened by the breaking through of the herd; but reliance is
placed not so much on the resistance of the stockade as on the timidity
of the captives and their unconsciousness of their own strength, coupled
with the daring of their captors and their devices for ensuring
submission.
The corral being prepared, the beaters address themselves to drive in
the elephants. For this purpose it is often necessary to fetch a circuit
of many miles in order to surround a sufficient number, and the caution
to be observed involves patience and delay; as it is essential to avoid
alarming the elephants, which might otherwise escape. Their disposition
being essentially peaceful, and their only impulse to browse in solitude
and security, they withdraw instinctively before the slightest
intrusion, and advantage is taken of this timidity and love of seclusion
to cause only just such an amount of disturbance as will induce them to
return slowly in the direction which it is desired they should take.
Several herds are by this means concentrated within such an area as will
admit of their being completely surrounded by the watchers; and day
after day, by degrees, they are moved gradually onwards to the immediate
confines of the corral. When their suspicions become awakened and they
exhibit restlessness and alarm, bolder measures are adopted for
preventing their escape. Fires are kept burning at ten paces apart,
night and day, along the circumference of the area within which they are
detained; a corps of from two to three thousand beaters is completed,
and pathways are carefully cleared through the jungle so as to keep open
a communication along the entire circuit. The headmen keep up a constant
patrol, to see that their followers are alert at their posts, since
neglect at any one spot might permit the escape of the herd, and undo in
a moment the vigilance of weeks. By this means any attempt of the
elephants to break away is generally checked, and on any point
threatened a sufficient force can be promptly assembled to drive them
back. At last the elephants are forced onwards so close to the
enclosure, that the investing cordon is united at either end with the
wings of the corral, the whole forming a circle of about two miles,
within the area of which the herd is detained to await the signal for
the final drive.