CHAPTER TWELVE.

VISIT TO GREAT ELEPHANT CORRAL--MODE OF CAPTURING ELEPHANTS IN CEYLON--

WONDERFUL SAGACITY OF TAME ELEPHANTS--MODE OF TAMING ELEPHANTS--THEIR

HABITS WHEN TAME--HABITS WHEN WILD.

Two days after I had enjoyed my first experience in buffalo-hunting we

arrived in the neighbourhood of the great elephant corral, or great

elephant trap, as it might very properly be called. We had been

travelling through dense forests scarcely penetrated by the sun's beams,

where but seldom we had heard the song of birds, the hum of insects, or

even the roar of wild beasts. I was astonished at this till Mr Fordyce

pointed out to me that under the dense shade of the tall trees there

could be no pasture for the graminivorous animals, and consequently no

prey to tempt the carnivorous ones to invade those silent solitudes.

But a few hours' ride after leaving the gloomy solitudes I have

described brought us into the midst of a scene such as the gorgeous East

can alone produce. Thousands of people appeared to be collected with

gaily caparisoned elephants and horses in vast numbers in the midst of a

village of boughs and branches, the houses being thatched with

palm-leaves and the sweet smelling lemon grass. The people of all the

neighbouring villages appeared to have made the hunt an excuse for a

complete holiday. There were, besides those engaged in the work, some

thousands or more natives--men, women, and children--crowding round the

corral--the men armed with their long spears in picturesque costume, the

women with children of the colour of bronze, and destitute of a rag of

covering, clinging to them, while many of the young girls were habited

in the graceful robes of that part of the country, with a scarf which,

after being wound round the waist, was thrown over the left shoulder,

leaving the right arm and side free. There were conjurors, and

tumblers, and story-tellers to help to pass the time, but the great

interest was concentrated on the business for which all had collected.

Mr Fordyce had sent forward to have preparations made for our arrival,

and we found a delightfully cool arbour ready for our reception. We had

not only an airy dining-room, but a bed-room a-piece, fitted up with our

tent furniture, while habitations had been run up for our attendants

outside.

"There is nothing like travelling with a mighty, magnificent,

three-tailed bashaw," observed Nowell to me, laughing. "Now, if you and

I had been alone, we should have to rough it by ourselves, with no one

to care for us or look after us."

After we had taken possession of our mansion we strolled out to see what

was going forward. We could not help stopping to watch the feats of a

juggler. First, he jumped upon a pole six feet from the ground, on

which he placed a cross bar, and balancing himself on it made prodigious

leaps from side to side. He had a companion, who assisted him in his

feats, but how they were done it seemed impossible to discover. After

leaping along to some distance, he returned to the centre of the

admiring circle of spectators. Steadying himself on his pole, he caught

a handful of pebbles thrown up to him by his companion. He held his

hand up, and away flew a number of small birds. Next, an egg was thrown

up to him. Holding it in his two hands, he broke it, when out fell a

serpent and glided away among the crowd. After watching the serpent

till it had disappeared, we found that he was keeping a number of brass

balls in constant motion by striking them with his elbows and then with

his hands. He next performed a still more difficult feat. He balanced

on his nose a small stick, which had at the top of it an inverted ball

or cup. From the rim of the cup were suspended by silken threads twelve

balls with holes in them. He next placed in his mouth twelve rods of

ivory, and while the balls were made to fly round, by managing the rods

with his lips and tongue, he contrived to fit a rod into every ball,

when, letting the centre stick fall, they remained suspended by the

twelve rods. A ball of granite being thrown him, fully seven inches in

diameter, and not less than fourteen pounds' weight, he took it in one

hand, when, extending his arms in a line, he rolled it backwards and

forwards from wrist to wrist, across his shoulders, by some scarcely

perceptible exercise of muscular power. This done, grasping it in both

hands, he threw it up to the height of twenty feet or more, and watching

as it came down till it was close to his head, he bent forward and

caught it between his shoulders. Then, as if this last performance had

afforded him intense pleasure, he jumped forward for fifty yards or

more, returning as before. All this time, it must be remembered, he was

balancing himself on the horizontal bar placed across his single pole.

Those I have mentioned are only some of the extraordinary feats the

juggler performed. What suppleness of limb he must have possessed, and

what an immense amount of practice he must have gone through before he

could have accomplished any one of the feats he performed.

Strolling on with one of our Moors as a guide, we reached the corral.

By ourselves we should not have found it, for the front part of it

especially was left purposely concealed by trees and jungle. This is

done that the elephants might not be frightened when they are driven in

towards it. The space occupied by the corral was about 500 feet long

and 250 feet wide. From one end, in the centre of which was the

entrance, on either side a palisade extended, growing wider and wider,

and reaching some way into the forest, somewhat in the same manner as a

decoy for wild-fowl is formed. The trees were allowed to stand

untouched in the interior of the corral. The palisades which enclose

the corral were formed of trunks of trees about twelve inches in

diameter. They were sunk three or four feet into the ground, and rose

about fifteen feet above it. They were connected by transverse pieces

of timber lashed to them with jungle ropes. These jungle ropes are

formed of the flexible climbing plants with which the forests abound.

On the outside were fixed forked supports placed against the tie beams,

so that very great force would be required to drive the palisade

outward. Between each upright there was sufficient space left to allow

a man to pass through. Strong as the work was, I could have fancied

that a number of infuriated elephants would very speedily demolish it,

but we were told that they rarely or never even make the attempt, for

the whole corral is completely surrounded by men and boys, who hoot, and

shout, and cry so vociferously, that the poor animals can never face

them, but quickly rush back into the centre, to be as far off as

possible from the noisy crowd.

The elephant is one of the most peaceably disposed of animals, and all

he wishes is to be allowed to feed undisturbed. The beaters knowing

this, having extended themselves in a circuit of many miles, and

ascertained that a sufficient number of elephants are within it,

commence making just sufficient noise as to disturb them, and to induce

them to move slowly in towards the centre of their circle. They are

supplied with flutes, drums, guns, a quantity of gunpowder, and other

means of making a noise. In this way three or four, or even more, herds

are collected together, and kept within such an area as will allow of

their being watched day and night by the huntsmen. Six weeks or more

are sometimes thus consumed. By slow degrees they are driven in towards

the corral. Two or even three thousand huntsmen--or beaters they may

more properly be called--are employed in the operation; and as the

elephants begin to show symptoms of alarm, fires are kept up by day as

well as by night at a dozen paces or less apart throughout the entire

circle, with paths of communication, while the head men keep going

constantly round to see if their followers are vigilant. Should any

attempt be made by the elephants to break through the magic circle,

instantly a strong force can be assembled at the point to drive them

back. By the slightest carelessness or mismanagement the result of the

whole previous labour might be lost. It must be remembered that the

object is to take the noble animals alive, and to tame them that they

may be employed for the use of man.

I was reminded, as I saw one of those vast creatures humble and obedient

to the commands of its keeper, of the stories in the "Arabian Nights,"

of some huge genie which rises out of a bottle and swells to the size of

a mountain being brought under subjection by a magic ring, and made

obedient to the commands of a fair princess, or some delicate young lady

or other.

At length the herds of elephants are driven within a circumference of a

couple of miles or less, in which is included the wide-spreading jaws of

the corral. It was at this juncture that we happily arrived at the

spot. Not a word was spoken above a whisper among the immense

multitude, as it was important to preserve the greatest possible silence

so as to tranquillise the elephants till it was necessary to move them,

and then that the effects of the shouting and other noises might be

greater when they were commenced.

We had all taken our places to watch the proceedings. It was curious to

look down from our perch into the forest, and to know that fully five

thousand people were assembled close to us, and fifty or sixty huge

elephants, without a sound being heard.

The signal was given. Suddenly a terrific noise was heard from the

furthest end of the magic band which enclosed the elephants--the beating

of drums, playing of fifes and other wind instruments, firing off of

guns, and shouts and shrieks of men and boys. Gradually they closed in

on the astonished herd, no one making any sound till they were in the

rear of the elephants. The poor animals naturally rushed away from the

noise, and thus drew nearer and nearer to the opening in the corral.

This was furnished with stout bars, and men were stationed there to let

them drop the moment the elephants were in.

Suddenly we saw the boughs of the smaller trees and brushwood violently

agitated, and the leaders of the herds appeared rushing towards the

gateway. We fancied that in a moment more they would be secured, when a

wild boar, which had remained concealed in the brushwood, equally

astonished with them at the terrific sounds, scampered out of his

hiding-place, close in front of the headmost elephant. Whether the boar

or the sight of the corral frightened him most, I cannot say, but he

turned round, followed by the rest, and the hunters had again to extend

their line, while the elephants took up the position they had before

occupied in the middle of the jungle. There they stood astonished, not

knowing which way to turn, and waiting the course of events. It was

therefore determined by the director of the hunt to wait till night to

attempt the capture of the animals, the torches and fires at that time

producing a much greater effect.

We descended, therefore, from our trees to enjoy a very luxurious repast

in our sylvan abode, and as darkness came on again ascended to our lofty

perch. As before, not a sound was heard, but the watch-fires blazing up

shed their ruddy glow over the dark forest, and lighted up the

picturesque figures of the men employed around them. Suddenly the roll

of a drum was heard, then a discharge of musketry, and then shrill wind

instruments, and shrieks and cries resounded wildly through the forest.

The fires burned up brighter than ever, and an entire line of flame

extended round the whole opposite to where we sat away from the corral.

Near the corral all was profound silence and darkness. On came the mass

of hunters with flambeaus, closing in, shrieking and shouting, driving

the whole body of elephants before them. Again the huge leader of the

beasts crushed through the brushwood, pressing the smaller trees before

him. Nearer he and his followers approached the gateway. Wilder blazed

the torches, and louder rose the shouts. In he dashed, followed by the

rest, the bars were let drop behind them, and sixty wild beasts of the

forest were made captives. The corral, it must be remembered, was full

of trees, and left in as perfect a state of nature as possible. The

moment they were in, all the sides of the corral blazed up with

brilliant flame, the hunters having rushed to the nearest watch-fire to

light their torches as they came up.

The first impulse of the elephants was to rush across the corral, hoping

to make their escape; but they were brought up by the strong palisades,

and driven back by the flaming torches, the muskets fired in their

faces, and the loud cries of the hunters. Then they turned, and dashed

back to the entrance-gate. It was closed, and in vain they attempted to

force an exit; the torches, and music, and cries, drove them back; and

at length they all formed in one group together in the centre of the

corral, the very picture of hapless captives. Then they would start

round and round the corral, looking out for some weaker place through

which they might escape; but, finding none, they again returned to the

centre of the enclosure, not in silence, however, for, as if to mock the

shouts of their tormentors, they set up the most terrific trumpeting and

screaming I have ever heard.

Sometimes one of the larger male elephants would leave the crowd, and go

round trumpeting with fury, trying to get through here and there at some

spot not before examined, but with the same result. Then he would

return, sullen and bewildered, to his companions, who stood in the

centre of the area, formed in a circle round their young ones.

Thus they passed the night--the hunters sleeping near the line of

blazing fires kept up outside the corral, and hundreds of men and boys

with spears, and white wands ten feet long, being on the watch to turn

the elephants should they attempt to charge the stockade. This,

however, they were too astonished and subdued to attempt to do.

The next morning preparations were made to conduct the tame elephants,

who were to play a very important part in the capture, into the corral.

There were a dozen or more of these intelligent creatures, belonging to

the different chiefs as well as to the government. Some had only, we

were told, been captured a year, and yet they seemed fully to comprehend

the work they had to perform, and to take the keenest pleasure in making

prisoners of their former companions. Some also belonged to the

Buddhist temples, the priests employing them in their religious

ceremonies. One or two, we were assured, were upwards of a hundred

years old. One of the most intelligent was a female elephant about

fifty years old, which we called Bulbul. She showed herself to be a

keen sportswoman.

A large quantity of rope is required for noosing the elephants. This is

made from the fresh hides of the buffalo and deer. As no Singhalese

will touch a dead body, the only people who will manufacture these ropes

are the outcast Rodiyas, a party of whom stood at a distance from the

crowd. These unfortunate people are the most degraded race in the

country. Their very name means filth. They were compelled to go almost

naked; to live under sheds, not being allowed to build a house with two

walls. They could not enter a court of justice, or even a temple,

though nominally Buddhists. They are compelled to stand aside on the

road when any traveller passes them; and they fall on their knees when

they address any man of recognised caste. Their habits are dirty in the

extreme; and they eat any food, even carrion, which comes in their way.

They are, indeed, like the Cagots of France; and as little is known of

the cause which reduced their ancestors to their present degraded state

as in the instance of the last-named race. One thing alone could, and

assuredly would, restore them to communion with their fellow-creatures,

and that is the introduction of pure Christianity among them and the

population at large. Curiously enough, both people have, from time

immemorial, been employed in skinning cattle and making ropes.

All things being prepared for the capture of the elephants, two tame

ones were ridden in by their mahouts, each with an attendant, and

followed by two head men of the noosers--"_cooroowes_," they were

called--eager to capture the first animal on that hunt. Each elephant

had on a collar made of coils of rope of cocoa-nut fibre, from which

hung cords of elks' hides, with a slip knot, or rather noose, at the

end. Operations were now commenced, and most interesting they were.

The chief actors were certainly the tame elephants. Bulbul began by

slowly strolling along, picking a leaf here and there, as if she had

nothing very particular to do. Thus she advanced, till she came close

up to the herd, all of whom came out to meet her in the most friendly

way, seemingly to inquire if she could explain what all the commotion

had been about. Their leader entwined his trunk round hers, and passed

it gently over his head, as if to invite her to join his party.

"Watch the treacherous creature," exclaimed Nowell, laughing. "She

fully intends to betray him, and yet she appears to be captivated by all

the soft things he has been saying to her."

Such, in truth, was the case. She placed herself close to the leader,

but it was to allow the nooser to stoop down under her, and to slip his

noose round the hind foot of the wild one. The rope was very nearly

made fast when the elephant, discovering what had been done, shook it

off, and turned his rage upon the hunter. Had not Bulbul interposed,

the latter would have paid dear for his temerity; and, as it was, he got

an ugly touch of the elephant's foot, which compelled him to creep

limping away out of the wood. Now the cleverest thing was done which we

had yet seen. Bulbul and another elephant were made to advance, and to

place themselves one on each side of the leader of the wild ones. He

did not attempt to run away, but was evidently not very well satisfied

with his company, as he kept moving the weight of his body from foot to

foot, as elephants invariably do when standing still in any doubt or

perplexity.

The second nooser, who was a young active man, now crept in and took the

noose, which hung suspended from Bulbul's collar, and holding it open in

both his hands, slipped it adroitly under the huge hinder leg of the

monster. I was reminded, on seeing the act, of workmen touching the

piston-rod of a steam-engine, or some other part of some powerful

machinery, one blow of which would almost annihilate them. This time

the noose was secured; and as soon as the cunning Bulbul saw that it was

so, she began to back towards the nearest large tree, dragging the

elephant after her, till she was able to give it a turn round the trunk.

The wild elephant did his best to break away, but she kept him tight;

at the same time she could not manage to draw him nearer to the trunk.

The other tame elephant now stepped up to her assistance, and, by

pressing his shoulder and head against the shoulder and head of the wild

one, forced him back step by step, Bulbul all the time hauling in

sagaciously on the slack of the rope, till he was brought close up to

the trunk of the tree. The cooroowe people then rushed in and secured

him to it. The nooser now passed another noose under the other hind

leg, which was secured like the first. Bulbul and her comrade now

ranged up one on each side of the poor animal, and while, as it seemed,

holding him in conversation, and consoling him for his misfortune, the

active nooser slipped under them and secured the two fore-feet as he had

done the first. The other ends of the ropes were then carried to a

tree, and secured round it immediately in front of the other. All four

legs were also hobbled together, and then the huge monster stood, in

spite of all his strength, in the most complete bondage. The ropes used

for the latter purpose were made of the kittool or jaggery palm, as they

are of a more flexible nature than those of the cocoa-nut fibre, and

less likely to cause ulcers on the poor elephants' legs.

While the treacherous tame elephants remained alongside the captive to

console him for his misfortune, he was perfectly quiet; but no sooner

were they withdrawn than he made the most violent efforts to set himself

free. His first endeavour was to untie the knots of the ropes which

bound him; but when he found that this was beyond his art, he tried to

burst them asunder. Now he leaned backwards to free the fore-feet--now

forwards to clear the hind ones, till, literally lifting them off the

ground, he balanced himself on his trunk and forefeet, lifting his hind

ones up in the air. Wonderful were the exertions he made to free

himself; and as he crushed the branches within his reach, it seemed as

if he would bring the stout tree itself to the ground. He uttered the

most terrific screams in his agony, now bending his huge proboscis under

him into the ground, now lifting it high in air; now pressing one cheek,

now the other, on the earth.

I have since heard of a tame elephant exhibited in England having been

taught to stand on his head, and, I fancy, dance the polka; and from the

extraordinary positions into which I saw the animals throw themselves on

this occasion, I fully believe in their power to do anything of the

sort.

The mighty captive was close to us. At length, after continually

exerting himself in this strange way, he lay quiet; but every now and

then he would burst out again into a fit of fury, soon however to

discover how vain were his efforts to free himself; and then, overcome

and exhausted, he remained perfectly motionless, giving up for ever, it

seemed, all hope of freedom.

Meantime the other wild elephants were in a state of terror and nervous

excitement. Now they would all stand huddled together, not knowing what

to do; then one, braver than the rest, would advance, and by degrees the

others would follow, and the whole herd made a desperate rush towards

the end of the corral.

It was a nervous moment. It seemed scarcely possible that they would

not dash against the barrier, and, strong as it might be, hurl it in

fragments to the ground, and trampling over their persecutors, escape

into the forest. I held my breath, believing that this would be the

result of their charge; but at the same moment crowds of young men and

boys hurried up to the point threatened, holding long white wands and

spears in their hands. As the elephants approached, with their trunks

raised high in the air, their ears spread out, and their tails erected,

trumpeting and uttering the loudest screams indicative of their rage,

the young men, with the most perfect nerve and coolness, struck their

thin lances through the openings in the palisades, at the same time

shouting and whooping at the top of their voices.

Just as I expected to see the fatal crash come, the huge brutes turned

round, and off they went once more to take shelter under the trees in

the centre of the corral. One after the other, the wild elephants were

bound in much the same way as was the first. What appeared to me very

wonderful, was that the wild ones never molested the mahouts or

cooroowes who rode on the backs of the tame elephants. They could at

any moment have pulled off the riders, but not the slightest attempt of

the sort was made. One of the chiefs or managers of the corral rode in

among the herd on so small an animal that his head was not higher than

the shoulder of many of them, but no notice whatever was taken of him.

The operation of noosing each elephant occupied altogether from half an

hour to three quarters.

Not only did the cunning Bulbul seem to take pleasure in capturing a

male elephant, but she evidently had equal delight in assisting to make

a slave of one of her own sex. A large female elephant was fixed on.

She and her assistant, placing themselves one on each side of her, cut

her off from her companions, and the nooser slipping a rope under her

foot, Bulbul carried it to the nearest tree. The wild lady, however,

grasped the rope with her trunk, and, carrying it to her month, would

quickly have bit it through, had not the other tame one, perceiving what

she was about, with wonderful sagacity torn it away from her, and

placing her foot on it, prevented her again from lifting it.

At last most of the leaders were captured, and it was curious to watch

the proceedings of the rest. At first they were too timid to move, but

after a time they came up, and entwining their trunks together, seemed

to express their sympathy and sorrow. The captives expressed every

variety of emotion. Some trumpeted, and bellowed, and screamed in their

fury, tearing down the branches of all the trees they could reach, and

struggling violently, ultimately sinking exhausted, and only now and

then uttering the most pitiable groans and sobs. Some remained

perfectly silent. Most of them twisted themselves about, however, in

the most extraordinary way. I could not have supposed that an animal of

such apparently unwieldy bulk as an elephant could possibly have

distorted himself as many did. Some curled their trunks about till they

looked like huge writhing snakes. One kept curling up his proboscis and

letting it fly open again with the greatest rapidity. It was almost

harrowing to our feelings to see the whole ground below us covered with

such huge, struggling, writhing masses. I made a remark to that effect

to Nowell.

"Look through a telescope shut up, which will diminish objects some

hundred times, and you will think nothing of it," he answered. "Or, the

next time you wish to harrow up your feelings, just walk over an ant's

nest, and apply a large magnifying-glass to the spots where your feet

have been placed. You will see worse sights even than this, I suspect."

From what I saw I should say that elephants have as great a variety of

character as human beings. In one point only all acted much alike.

After their most violent struggles were over, and the ground in front of

them had been beaten into dust, they took it up with their trunks and

scattered it over their bodies, and then, withdrawing a quantity of

water from their mouths, they in the same way sprinkled it over

themselves, till the dust was converted into a cake of mud. From the

quantity of water thus employed it seemed clear that they must have a

large internal receptacle to contain it, as for a whole day or more they

had had no opportunity of drinking, and had been exposed to unusual

alarm and exertion.

The most curious and interesting part of the whole exhibition was the

sagacity displayed by the tame elephants, and especially by Bulbul.

They went coolly and calmly about their work, never creating the

slightest confusion, and seeing in a moment exactly what was best to be

done. They stepped carefully over the ropes which were being twisted

round and round the trees, and never by any chance trampled on any of

the captured ones lying on the ground. One of the wildest had managed

to twist the first rope secured to him several times round the tree,

when Bulbul, walking up, pressed against him, and made him untwist

himself. She even, on another occasion, put her own foot under that of

one of the wild ones, and kept it up till the nooser was able to slip

the rope over it. Not only do the tame elephants assist materially with

their great strength in dragging the wild ones up to the trees, and in

securing them, but without their aid, and the cover they afford, even

the most active and daring of noosers would not venture to approach a

herd.

The most amusing incident in the strange drama was the appearance and

behaviour of two young elephants, about ten months old. They seemed to

be general pets of the herd, following them wherever they went, running

in and out among their legs, and being nursed not only by their own

mothers, but by all the females whenever they appeared. When the mother

of one of them was captured, the little creature followed her up to the

tree round which the rope was fastened. It then did its utmost to

liberate her, and actually attacked the men, striking them with its

trunk, and endeavouring to prevent them from fastening the other nooses

round its mother's legs. At last it so interfered with their

proceedings that they were obliged to drive it back to the herd. It

went away at a slow and disconsolate pace, looking back every now and

then in the most affectionate way towards its captive mother. On

reaching the herd it attached itself to one of the other females, when

she hung her trunk over it and caressed it in the kindest way. As soon

as the noosers had finished securing its mother, it returned to her

side, and appeared to be attempting to console her, but it very soon

grew angry at finding that she could not move, and began to attack

everybody who passed. As this inconvenienced the men, they had to tie

it up, when, as it was dragged along, it caught at all the branches in

the way, and trumpeted and cried with grief. Both the small ones were

tied up together, and screamed louder and more incessantly than all the

rest. They put one much in mind of two young babies, for when food was

given them they ate it up greedily, but before their mouths were empty

began to cry and roar away again as loudly as ever.

Among the elephants driven into the corral was a rogue, or outcast

elephant. They are supposed to be driven out of the herd on account of

their vicious disposition, and none of their kind will ever associate

with them. They live, consequently, morose and solitary lives, and are

always the most dangerous to attack. He was captured like the rest, and

as a proof of his bad temper, as he was dragged by one of those lying on

the ground, he attacked him furiously with his tusks, and would have

injured him severely had he not been torn away from him. No one

trumpeted and screamed louder at first, but in a short time he lay down

quietly, as if he saw that it was folly to fret himself about what could

not be helped.

"That fellow will soon become tame and humble as the rest," I observed.

"The hunters say that sudden quietness is a sign that he will not live

long," said Mr Fordyce. "We shall see if they are right."

We watched the poor brute. He was covering himself with dust and water

like his companions in misfortune, and continued to do so incessantly.

There were still a great number of elephants to be noosed when night

closed in on us. A large herd, we understood, were also kept in check

outside, ready to be driven in as soon as the first batch had been

disposed of.

The next day we spent much in the same way as the former ones. Most

interested we were, for certainly we could never expect to have so good

an opportunity of studying the character of elephants in their wild

state. Everything we saw tended to raise them higher in our estimation

as the most sagacious of brute beasts, while there was the marked

difference between the manners of the wild and the tame ones which

civilisation is calculated to create. The behaviour of the tame ones

was most wonderful. They seemed to enter so thoroughly into the spirit

of the affair, and to observe so immediately what was necessary to be

done. There was especially no cruelty or malice displayed. They were

apparently happy and contented themselves in captivity, and they did not

seem to consider that there was any hardship for others to be reduced to

the same state. The wild ones also, when they found that escape was

impossible, bore their captivity with wonderful dignity and composure.

Some even seemed to listen with pleasure to the notes of the Kandyan

flute which the natives played near them; and though at first they would

not eat, at length when some juicy stems of the plantain were offered

them, they could not resist the temptation of the luscious morsels. The

young ones, however, though they ate everything given them, screamed and

bellowed louder than any of the rest, attacking every one who came near

them, and never ceasing their struggles to get free. Indeed, their

conduct throughout reminded me very much of petted and rather

violent-tempered children.

When we took our seats the rogue lay on the ground, moving his head

about slowly and heavily. Suddenly he was quiet, and almost at the same

moment his body was pounced on by innumerable crowds of black flies.

"The rogue is dead," observed Mr Fordyce.

Instantly two elephants entered with some of the outcast Rodiyas, who

undid the cords from the tree, when the elephants dragged the dead body

to a distance from the corral. I need not further particularise each

capture as it occurred, though each was in itself especially

interesting. Most remarkable was the sagacity they displayed in trying

to loose themselves from their bonds, as also in avoiding having the

noose thrown over their feet. One fine fellow tried to uproot the tree

in front of him to which his fore-legs were secured, and then sat down

on his haunches like a dog, trying to undo the knots with his trunk.

When he found that all his efforts were unavailing, he threw himself on

the ground, while the tears coursed each other down his rugged cheeks.

Many, indeed, of the elephants wept and sobbed when they found

themselves hopelessly captives.

Corrals are always erected near some river or lake, where the

newly-captured elephants may be indulged in the luxury in which they so

much delight. To convey the wild elephant to the water, a tame one is

placed on each side of him. A collar is then formed round his neck of

cocoa-nut rope, to which ropes are attached, secured also by similar

collars round the necks of the tame ones. This done, the ropes round

his legs are removed, and he is marched away by his companions to the

water. The curious part of this operation, we remarked, was the way in

which the tame elephant defended his rider from the blows of the wild

one's trunk. No attempt, I observed, was made to noose the trunks.

Probably from their being very sensitive organs, too much injury would

be inflicted on the elephants by so doing.

After the poor animals had enjoyed their baths, they were secured to

trees in the forest, with three or more grass or leaf cutters a-piece to

supply them with food. Their education was now to begin, and Mr

Fordyce told us that in three or four months they would be sufficiently

tamed to go to work. Both he and Nowell, who had seen a bull-fight in

Spain, said that it did not at all come up in interest to the scene we

had been witnessing, while there was far more cruelty employed, and a

larger amount of danger, in consequence of the assistance afforded by

the tame elephants. At the same time, the courage and activity

displayed by a Spanish piccador or matador is infinitely superior to

that which a Singhalese nooser is compelled to exert. Of one thing I am

certain, that in a state of freedom the elephant as a rule is certainly

neither savage nor revengeful, and considering his power to inflict

injury, he is rather a timid animal than otherwise. In captivity, if he

gets out of health, he is liable to fits of obstinacy and irritability,

when he has been known to inflict injury for which, on his recovery, he

has afterwards exhibited the most undoubted sorrow and repentance. How

often is the same disposition exhibited by children from the same cause,

and how speedily, on recovering their health, is their amiability

restored! So we must not be over-harsh in judging of the poor

elephants, who have not the reasoning powers even of a young child.

The mode of training an elephant, as described to me, and as we saw it

going forward, is interesting. For the first three days, during which

he will seldom take food, he is allowed to stand quiet, with a tame one

by his side to give him confidence. When he takes to his food, he is

placed between two tame ones, and the head groom stands in front of him

with a long stick having a sharp iron point. Two men are also stationed

on either side, protected by the tame ones, with sticks with sharp

crooks, while others rub his back and talk to him in a consoling and

encouraging tone. At first he is excessively indignant, and strikes in

every direction with his proboscis; but his blows are received by the

men on the sharp points of their sticks and crooks, till the end is

thoroughly sore. Finding that he has the worst of it, and seemingly

acknowledging that his captors have established their supremacy, he

coils it tightly up, and seldom again attempts to use it as a weapon of

offence. The next process is to take him to bathe between two tame

elephants, and to compel him to lie down. This is done by tightening

the ropes which unite his feet, and by the driver pressing the sharp

point of the crook on his back-bone. Often for several days he resists

and roars most lustily, and the assistance of the tame ones is required

to keep him in order. In about three weeks, perhaps, he may be left

alone, and then when he is taken to bathe with his feet only hobbled, a

man walks backwards in front of him with the point of his pike presented

at his head, and two others, one at each ear, holding their pointed

crooks. On reaching the water, the dread of having the crook pressed

against his backbone makes him immediately lie down. After this the

process is easy. They vary much in disposition. Some will within even

a day or two feed out of a man's hand. The great secret is, while

proving to them the power of man, to treat them with kindness and to win

their confidence. From the treatment their feet receive when being

captured, they will not allow them to be touched for months and years

afterwards without exhibiting signs of anger. Though in other respects

tamed, they cannot be put to work for three or four months--indeed, till

they take their food eagerly, and flourish on it. Otherwise they

quickly die, as the natives say, of a broken heart. They are taught to

draw a waggon, or to tread clay for forming bricks; but by far the most

important service they render is in piling timber and removing large

blocks of stone. It is most curious to observe the way in which one

will take up a huge log of timber in his trunk and carry it through a

narrow road, turning it longways when there is not width to allow it to

pass, and avoiding all impediments, and finally placing log after log on

the pile with the greatest regularity. This he will do without any

driver to guide his movements, and directed entirely by his own

sagacity.

From what I could learn, the average age of elephants is about seventy

years, though some have been known to have lived twice as long; and one

elephant, who only lately died, and whose skeleton, I have heard, in in

the Museum of Natural History at Belfast, was successively in the

service of the Dutch and English Governments--certainly for upwards of a

century. Probably he was a hundred and twenty years old at least. The

natives believe that elephants bury their own dead. Certain it is that

they remove them from any spot which they are accustomed to frequent,

shoving their bodies on with their heads or tusks, or dragging them with

their trunks. Others believe that elephants select some remote and

sequestered spot by the side of a lake surrounded by mountains, and

thither they resort when they feel their death approaching, that they

may lie down and die tranquilly. The popular belief, however, is that

they live to an almost illimitable age when in a state of freedom; and

that is the reason why their dead bodies are seldom or never found,

unless they have met their death from the sportsman's rifle.

An elephant requires three men to attend to him. One is his mahout or

attendant, and two, as leaf-cutters, to supply him with food; so that

the cost of his keep is upwards of three shillings a-day. The elephants

of Ceylon have sometimes, but not often, tusks, while those of Africa

are generally supplied with them. So peaceable and amiable are their

dispositions, that they are provided with no other weapon of offence;

for the trunk, though powerful, is too delicate an organ to be used

willingly for the attack of other animals, except in cases of necessity.

Indeed, he has no enemies who venture to attack him except man; and of

late years, in consequence of the wide distribution of firearms among

the natives, and the great number of English sportsmen who have invaded

the country, their numbers have greatly diminished.

I heard of one Englishman having killed upwards of a thousand of those

noble brutes, and of others, five hundred or more. I cannot say how I

might think of the matter if I was to indulge in the sport, but my

present feeling is that of unmitigated horror that any man should

willingly be guilty of such wholesale slaughter, unless in case of

necessity. If it was important to rid the country of them, they might

engage in the work for the sake of becoming public benefactors. Lions,

tigers, and wild boars should be killed, because they are dangerous to

human beings; and the time may come when, the wilds of Ceylon being

brought under cultivation, it may be necessary to exterminate the

sagacious elephant, or, at all events, to reduce him to subjection, and

to keep him within limited bounds.

Elephants delight in the shade, and shun the heat of the sun. Thus they

are found often in large herds on the mountain heights in Ceylon, at an

elevation of some thousand feet above the sea. With regard to their

sight, that is supposed to be somewhat circumscribed, and they depend

for their safety on their acute sense of smell and hearing. The sounds

they utter are very remarkable, and by them they seem to be able to

communicate with each other. That of warning to the herd is a deep

hollow ringing sound, like that of an empty cask being struck; a common

caution to their friends is a simple quiver of the lips, which makes a

noise like _prur-r-r_; that of pain is a deep groan from the throat;

that of rage is a shrill trumpeting through his proboscis. But they

also make many other scarcely describable noises. The height of the

elephant is generally over-estimated, the ordinary height being from

eight to nine feet, though in some instances they may be found exceeding

it. His agility, the gentleness of his tread, considering his size, and

the silent way in which he escapes through the forest, is worthy of

remark. The elephant, when he lies down, stretches his legs out behind

him, not under him, as does the horse--a beautiful arrangement for an

animal of his vast bulk, as thus, without any violent strain, he is able

to lift himself up. The thigh-bone is very much longer in proportion to

that of the _metatarsus_--the one below it--than is the case with other

animals, and thus the knee is very much lower down. He has also no

hock, and can thus bend his knee as completely as a human being. By

this arrangement he is able to descend declivities without difficulty.

In traversing a mountain region he invariably selects the ridge of a

chain, and takes the shortest path to the nearest safe ford. They are

generally found in herds of about twenty each, which are evidently

distinct families; and though they may mingle with other herds at times

when they meet to drink at the same tanks or water-courses, they

invariably unite together again at the slightest alarm. Elephants

become rogues from various causes; chiefly when they have been separated

from the herd, and, from living a life of bachelor solitude, become

morose and vicious. They at length generally resort to the

neighbourhood of human habitations, where they commit serious

depredations on the rice grounds and among the cocoanut plantations.

Sometimes they will approach a dwelling, and travellers are frequently

attacked and even killed by them. The natives, therefore, give every

encouragement to European sportsmen who will undertake to destroy them;

and in this case they really can be of very great service. Nowell and

I, on hearing this account of the rogues, agreed that the first we heard

of we would undertake to attack, and we quite longed for an opportunity

of exerting our powers in so useful an undertaking.

No one seemed able to account for the reason why elephants are so much

afraid of wands or spears. They will not even, unless driven by terror,

attempt to pass through the slightest reed fence but a few feet in

height. Thus a single watcher is able to keep them off the rice and

coracan lands; and in some places, where these intervene between their

haunts and the tanks where they are accustomed to drink, passages are

made, lined by bamboo fences, and they pass up and down them without

attempting to break into the fields, though full of their favourite

food. Their instinct tells them exactly when the products of the ground

in which they most delight are ripe, and they regularly make their

appearance in that part of the country where they are to be found. Now,

curiously enough, as soon as the rice and coracan are removed and the

fences are broken, the elephants walk into the fields and regularly

glean them. When this is done they move on to some other district. In

the same way they visit those parts of the country where the palmyra

palm flourishes, at the time the fruit from its ripeness is about to

fall to the ground. Some are said to be very inquisitive, and will not

only examine any structure which has been put up in the locality they

frequent, but rogues especially will often even pull down huts or

cottages, and do all sorts of mischief, apparently from mere wantonness.

Elephants live on the leaves of all sorts of trees, as well as grass,

and grain, and fruits. They especially like the cocoa-nut. Stripping

off the fibre, they crush the shell with their tusks, and let the juice

trickle down their throats. The position of the trunk is very graceful

when they feed themselves; as it is also when they hold a branch and fan

off the flies from their backs. I forgot to say that, though they often

lie down, they are frequently found asleep leaning against a tree or a

rock, and often in captivity stand on their feet for months together

without ever lying down. However, I might go on, I find, recounting the

curious circumstances about elephants till I had filled my journal; and

I must therefore continue without further interruption an account of our

journey.

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