One practice was incessant with almost the entire herd: in the interval

between their struggles they beat the ground with their fore feet, and

taking up the dry earth in a coil of the trunk, they flung it

dexterously over every part of their body. Even when lying down, the

sand within reach was thus collected and scattered over their limbs:

then inserting the extremity of the trunk in their mouths, they withdrew

a quantity of water, which they discharged over their backs, repeating

the operation again and again, till the dust was thoroughly saturated. I

was astonished at the quantity of water thus applied, which was

sufficient when the elephant, as was generally the case, had worked the

spot where he lay into a hollow, to convert its surface into a coating

of mud. Seeing that the herd had been now twenty-four hours without

access to water of any kind, surrounded by watch-fires, and exhausted by

struggling and terror, the supply of moisture an elephant is capable of

containing in the receptacle attached to his stomach must be very

considerable.

The conduct of the tame ones during all these proceedings was truly

wonderful. They displayed the most perfect conception of every movement,

both of the object to be attained, and of the means to accomplish it.

They manifested the utmost enjoyment in what was going on. There was no

ill-humour, no malignity in the spirit displayed, in what was otherwise

a heartless proceeding, but they set about it in a way that showed a

thorough relish for it, as an agreeable pastime. Their caution was as

remarkable as their sagacity; there was no hurrying, no contusion, they

never ran foul of the ropes, were never in the way of the animals

already noosed; and amidst the most violent struggles, when the tame

ones had frequently to step across the captives, they in no instance

trampled on them, or occasioned the slightest accident or annoyance. So

far from this, they saw intuitively a difficulty or a danger, and

addressed themselves unbidden to remove it. In tying up one of the

larger elephants, he contrived before he could be hauled close up to the

tree, to walk once or twice round it, carrying the rope with him; the

decoy, perceiving the advantage he had thus gained over the nooser,

walked up of her own accord, and pushed him backwards with her head,

till she made him unwind himself again; upon which the rope was hauled

tight and made fast. More than once, when a wild one was extending his

trunk, and would have intercepted the rope about to be placed over his

leg, Siribeddi, by a sudden motion of her own trunk, pushed his aside,

and prevented him; and on one occasion, when successive efforts had

failed to put the noose over the fore-leg of an elephant which was

already secured by one foot, but which wisely put the other to the

ground as often as it was attempted to pass the noose under it, I saw

the decoy watch her opportunity, and when his foot was again raised,

suddenly push in her own leg beneath it, and hold it up till the noose

was attached and drawn tight.

One could almost fancy there was a display of dry humour in the manner

in which the decoys thus played with the fears of the wild herd, and

made light of their efforts at resistance. When reluctant they shoved

them forward, when violent they drove them back; when the wild ones

threw themselves down, the tame ones butted them with head and

shoulders, and forced them up again. And when it was necessary to keep

them down, they knelt upon them, and prevented them from rising, till

the ropes were secured.

At every moment of leisure they fanned themselves with a bunch of

leaves, and the graceful ease with which an elephant uses his trunk on

such occasions is very striking. It is doubtless owing to the

combination of a circular with a horizontal movement in that flexible

limb; but it is impossible to see an elephant fanning himself without

being struck by the singular elegance of motion which he displays. The

tame ones, too, indulged in the luxury of dusting themselves with sand,

by flinging it from their trunks; but it was a curious illustration of

their delicate sagacity, that so long as the mahout was on their necks,

they confined themselves to flinging the dust along their sides and

stomach, as if aware, that to throw it over their heads and back would

cause annoyance to their riders.

One of the decoys which rendered good service, and was obviously held in

special awe by the wild herd, was a tusker belonging to Dehigame

Rata-mahatmeya. It was not that he used his tusks for purposes of

offence, but he was enabled to insinuate himself between two elephants

by wedging them in where he could not force his head; besides which they

assisted him in raising up the fallen and refractory with greater ease.

In some instances where the intervention of the other decoys failed to

reduce a wild one to order, the mere presence and approach of the tusker

seemed to inspire fear, and insure submission, without more active

intervention.

I do not know whether it was the surprising qualities exhibited by the

tame elephants that cast the courage and dexterity of the men into the

shade, but even when supported by the presence, the sagacity, and

co-operation of these wonderful creatures, the part sustained by the

noosers can bear no comparison with the address and daring displayed by

the _pícador_ and _matador_ in a Spanish bull-fight. They certainly

possessed great quickness of eye in watching the slightest movement of

the elephant, and great expertness in flinging the noose over its foot

and attaching it firmly before the animal could tear it off with its

trunk; but in all this they had the cover of the decoys to conceal them;

and their shelter behind which to retreat. Apart from the services

which, from their prodigious strength, the tame elephants are alone

capable of rendering, in dragging out and securing the captives, it is

perfectly obvious that without their co-operation the utmost prowess and

dexterity of the hunters would not avail them, unsupported, to enter the

corral and ensnare and lead out a single captive.

Of the two tiny elephants which were entrapped, one was about ten months

old, the other somewhat more. The smaller one had a little bolt head

covered with woolly brown hair, and was the most amusing and interesting

miniature imaginable. Both kept constantly with the herd, trotting after

them in every charge; when the others stood at rest they ran in and out

between the legs of the older ones; and not their own mothers alone, but

every female in the group caressed them in turn.

The dam of the youngest was the second elephant singled out by the

noosers, and as she was dragged along by the decoys, the little creature

kept by her side till she was drawn close to the fatal tree. The men at

first were rather amused than otherwise by its anger; but they found

that it would not permit them to place the second noose upon its mother;

it ran between her and them, it tried to seize the rope, it pushed them

and struck them with its little trunk, till they were forced to drive it

back to the herd. It retreated slowly, shouting all the way, and pausing

at every step to look back. It then attached itself to the largest

female remaining in the group, and placed itself across her forelegs,

whilst she hung down her trunk over its side and soothed and caressed

it. Here it continued moaning and lamenting; till the noosers had left

off securing its mother, when it instantly returned to her side; but as

it became troublesome again, attacking every one who passed, it was at

last tied up by a rope to an adjoining tree, to which the other young

one was also tied. The second little one, equally with its playmate,

exhibited great affection for its dam; it went willingly with its captor

as far as the tree to which she was fastened, and in passing her

stretched out its trunk and tried to rejoin her; but finding itself

forced along, it caught at every twig and branch within its reach, and

screamed with grief and disappointment.

These two little creatures were the most vociferous of the whole herd,

their shouts were incessant, they struggled to attack every one within

reach; and as their bodies were more lithe and pliant than those of

greater growth, their contortions were quite wonderful. The most amusing

thing was, that in the midst of all their agony and affliction, the

little fellows seized on every article of food that was thrown to them,

and ate and roared simultaneously.

Amongst the last of the elephants noosed was the rogue. Though far more

savage than the others, he joined in none of their charges and assaults

on the fences, as they uniformly drove him off and would not permit him

to enter their circle. When dragged past another of his companions in

misfortune, who was lying exhausted on the ground, he flew upon him and

attempted to fasten his teeth in his head; this was the only instance of

viciousness which occurred during the progress of the corral. When tied

up and overpowered, he was at first noisy and violent, but soon lay down

peacefully, a sign, according to the hunters, that his death was at

hand. Their prognostication was correct; he continued for about twelve

hours to cover himself with dust like the others, and to moisten it with

water from his trunk; but at length he lay exhausted, and died so

calmly, that having been moving but a few moment before, his death was

only perceived by the myriads of black flies by which his body was

almost instantly covered, although not one was visible a moment

before.[1] The Rodiyas were called in to loose the ropes that bound him,

from the tree, and two tame elephants being harnessed to the dead body,

it was dragged to a distance without the corral.

[Footnote 1: The surprising faculty of vultures for discovering carrion,

has been a subject of much speculation, as to whether it be dependent on

their power of sight or of scent. It is not, however, more mysterious

than the unerring certainty and rapidity with which some of the minor

animals, and more especially insects, in warm climates congregate around

the offal on which they feed. Circumstanced as they are, they must be

guided towards their object mainly if not exclusively by the sense of

smell; but that which excites astonishment is the small degree of odour

which seems to suffice for the purpose; the subtlety and rapidity with

which it traverses and impregnates the air; and the keen and quick

perception with which it is taken up by the organs of those creatures.

The instance of the scavenger beetles has been already alluded to; the

promptitude with which they discern the existence of matter suited to

their purposes, and the speed with which they hurry to it from all

directions; often from distances as extraordinary, proportionably, as

those traversed by the eye of the vulture. In the instance of the dying

elephant referred to above, life was barely extinct when the flies, of

which not one was visible but a moment before, arrived in clouds and

blackened the body by their multitude; scarcely an instant was allowed

to elapse for the commencement of decomposition; no odour of

putrefaction could be discerned by us who stood close by; yet some

peculiar smell of mortality, simultaneously with parting breath, must

have summoned them to the feast. Ants exhibit an instinct equally

surprising. I have sometimes covered up a particle of refined sugar with

paper on the centre of a polished table; and counted the number of

minutes which would elapse before it was fastened on by the small black

ants of Ceylon, and a line formed to lower it safely to the floor. Here

was a substance which, to our apprehension at least, is altogether

inodorous, and yet the quick sense of smell must have been the only

conductor of the ants. It has been observed of those fishes which travel

overland on the evaporation of the ponds in which they live, that they

invariably march in the direction of the nearest water, and even when

captured, and placed on the floor of a room, their efforts to escape are

always made towards the same point. Is the sense of smell sufficient to

account for this display of instinct in them? or is it aided by special

organs in the case of the others? Dr. MCGEE, formerly of the Royal Navy,

writing to me on the subject of the instant appearance of flies in the

vicinity of dead bodies, says: "In warm climates they do not wait for

death to invite them to the banquet. In Jamaica I have again and again

seen them settle on a patient, and hardly to be driven away by the

nurse, the patient himself saying. 'Here are these flies coming to eat

me ere I am dead.' At times they have enabled the doctor, when otherwise

he would have been in doubt as to his prognosis, to determine whether

the strange apyretic interval occasionally present in the last stage of

yellow fever was the fatal lull or the lull of recovery; and 'What say

the flies?' has been the settling question. Among many, many cases

during a long period I have seen but one recovery after the assembling

of the flies. I consider the foregoing as a confirmation of smell being

the guide even to the attendants, a cadaverous smell has been perceived

to arise from the body of a patient twenty-four hours before death."]

When every wild elephant had been noosed and tied up, the scene

presented was truly oriental. From one to two thousand natives, many of

them in gaudy dresses and armed with spears, crowded about the

enclosures. Their families had collected to see the spectacle; women,

whose children clung like little bronzed Cupids by their sides; and

girls, many of them in the graceful costume of that part of the

country,--a scarf, which, after having been brought round the waist, is

thrown over the left shoulder, leaving the right arm and side free and

uncovered.

At the foot of each tree was its captive elephant; some still struggling

and writhing in feverish excitement, whilst others, in exhaustion and

despair, lay motionless, except that, from time to time, they heaped

fresh dust upon their heads. The mellow notes of a Kandyan flute, which

was played at a distance, had a striking effect upon one or more of

them; they turned their heads in the direction from which the music

came, expanded their broad ears, and were evidently soothed with the

plaintive sound. The two young ones alone still roared for freedom; they

stamped their feet, and blew clouds of dust over their shoulders,

brandishing their little trunks aloft, and attacking every one who came

within their reach.

At first the older ones, when secured, spurned every offer of food,

trampled it under foot, and turned haughtily away. A few, however, as

they became more composed, could not resist the temptation of the juicy

stems of the plantain, but rolling them under foot, till they detached

the layers, they raised them in their trunks, and commenced chewing

listlessly.

On the whole, whilst the sagacity, the composure, and docility of the

decoys were such as to excite lively astonishment, it was not possible

to withhold the highest admiration from the calm and dignified demeanour

of the captives. Their entire bearing was at variance with the

representation made by some of the "sportsmen" who harass them, that

they are treacherous, savage, and revengeful; when tormented by the guns

of their persecutors, they, no doubt, display their powers and sagacity

in efforts to retaliate or escape; but here their every movement was

indicative of innocence and timidity. After a struggle, in which they

evinced no disposition to violence or revenge, they submitted with the

calmness of despair. Their attitudes were pitiable, their grief was most

touching, and their low moaning went to the heart. We could not have

borne to witness their distress had their capture been effected by the

needless infliction of pain, or had they been destined to ill-treatment

afterwards.

It was now about two hours after noon, and the first elephants that had

entered the corral having been disposed of, preparations were made to

reopen the gate, and drive in the other two herds, over which the

watchers were still keeping guard. The area of the enclosure was

cleared; and silence was again imposed on the crowds who surrounded the

corral. The bars that secured the entrance were withdrawn and every

precaution repeated as before; but as the space inside was now somewhat

trodden down, especially near the entrance, by the frequent charges of

the last herd, and as it was to be apprehended that the others might be

earlier alarmed and retrace their steps, before the barricades could be

replaced, two tame ones were stationed inside to protect the men to whom

that duty was assigned.

All preliminaries being at length completed, the signal was given; the

beaters on the side most distant from the corral closed in with tom-toms

and discordant noises; a hedge-fire of musketry was kept up in the rear

of the terrified elephants; thousands of voices urged them forward; we

heard the jungle crashing as they came on, and at last they advanced

through an opening amongst the trees, bearing down all before them like

a charge of locomotives. They were led by a huge female, nearly nine

feet high, after whom one half of the herd dashed precipitately through

the narrow entrance, but the rest turning suddenly towards the left,

succeeded in forcing the cordon of guards and making good their escape

to the forest.

No sooner had the others passed the gate, than the two tame elephants

stepped forward from either side, and before the herd could return from

the further end of the enclosure, the bars were drawn, the entrance

closed, and the men in charge glided outside the stockade. The elephants

which had previously been made prisoners within exhibited intense

excitement as the fresh din arose around them; they started to their

feet, and stretched their trunks in the direction whence they winded the

scent of the herd in its headlong flight; and as the latter rushed past,

they renewed their struggles to get free and follow. It is not possible

to imagine anything more exciting than the spectacle which the wild ones

presented careering round the corral, uttering piercing screams, their

heads erect and trunks aloft, the very emblems of rage and perplexity,

of power and helplessness.

Along with those which entered at the second drive was one that

evidently belonged to another herd, and had been separated from them in

the _mêlée_ when the latter effected their escape, and, as usual, his

new companions in misfortune drove him off indignantly as often as he

attempted to approach them.

The demeanour of those taken in the second drive differed materially

from that of the preceding captives, who, having entered the corral in

darkness, to find themselves girt with fire and smoke, and beset by

hideous sounds and sights on every side, were speedily reduced by fear

to stupor and submission--whereas, the second herd having passed into

the enclosure by daylight, and its area being trodden down in many

places, could clearly discover the fences, and were consequently more

alarmed and enraged at their confinement. They were thus as restless as

the others had been calm, and so much more vigorous in their assaults

that, on one occasion, their courageous leader, undaunted by the

multitude of white wands thrust towards her, was only driven back from

the stockade by a hunter hurling a blazing flambeau at her head. Her

attitude as she stood repulsed, but still irresolute, was a study for a

painter. Her eye dilated, her ears expanded, her back arched like a

tiger, and her fore-foot in air, whilst she uttered those hideous

screams that are imperfectly described by the term "_trumpeting_."

Although repeatedly passing by the unfortunates from the former drove,

the new herd seemed to take no friendly notice of them; they halted

inquiringly for a minute, and then resumed their career round the

corral, and once or twice in their headlong flight they rushed madly

over the bodies of the prostrate captives as they lay in their misery on

the ground.

It was evening before the new captives had grown wearied with their

furious and repeated charges, and stood still in the centre of the

corral collected into a terrified and motionless group. The fires were

then relighted, the guard redoubled by the addition of the watchers, who

were now relieved from duty in the forest, and the spectators retired to

their bungalows for the night. The business of the _third day_ began by

noosing and tying up the new captives, and the first sought out was

their magnificent leader. Siribeddi and the tame tusker having forced

themselves on either side of her, a boy in the service of the

Rata-Mahatmeya succeeded in attaching a rope to her hind-foot. Siribeddi

moved off, but feeling her strength insufficient to drag the reluctant

prize, she went down on her fore-knees, so as to add the full weight of

her body to the pull. The tusker, seeing her difficulty, placed himself

in front of the prisoner, and forced her backwards, step by step, till

his companion, brought her fairly up to the tree, and wound the rope

round the stem. Though overpowered by fear, she showed the fullest sense

of the nature of the danger she had to apprehend. She kept her head

turned towards the noosers, and tried to step in advance of the decoys;

in spite of all their efforts, she tore off the first noose from her

fore-leg, and placing it under her foot, snapped it into fathom lengths.

When finally secured, her writhings were extraordinary. She doubled in

her head under her chest, till she lay as round as a hedgehog, and

rising again, stood on her fore-feet, and lifting her hind-feet off the

ground, she wrung them from side to side, till the great tree above her

quivered in every branch.

Before proceeding to catch the others, we requested that the smaller

trees and jungle, which partially obstructed our view, might be broken

away, being no longer essential to screen the entrance to the corral;

and five of the tame elephants were brought up for the purpose. They

felt the strength of each tree with their trunks, then swaying it

backwards and forwards, by pushing it with their foreheads, they watched

the opportunity when it was in full swing to raise their fore-feet

against the stem, and bear it down to the ground. Then tearing off the

festoons of climbing plants, and trampling down the smaller branches and

brushwood, they pitched them with their tusks, piling them into heaps

along the side of the fence.

[Illustration of elephant resisting capture.]

Amongst the last that was secured was the solitary individual belonging

to the fugitive herd. When they attempted to drag him backwards from the

tree near which he was noosed, he laid hold of it with his trunk and lay

down on his side immoveable. The temple tusker and another were ordered

up to assist, and it required the combined efforts of the three

elephants to force him along. When dragged to the place at which he was

to be tied up, he continued the contest with desperation, and to prevent

the second noose being placed on his foot, he sat down on his haunches,

almost in the attitude of the "Florentine Boar," keeping his hind-feet

beneath him, and defending his fore-feet with his trunk, with which he

flung back the rope as often as it was attempted to attach it.

[Illustration of elephant lying on ground after capture.]

When overpowered and made fast, his grief was most affecting; his

violence sunk to utter prostration, and he lay on the ground, uttering

choking cries, with tears trickling down his cheeks.

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