We have much pleasure in laying before our readers the following
interesting particulars regarding the elephant, and the way in which
the physical strength of that sagacious animal is turned to account
in the timber-trade of Rangoon. The notes are contained in a letter
from a resident in that town to his brother in England, who has kindly
placed it at our disposal. After describing some phases of every-day
social life, the writer thus proceeds: ‘The elephants I go daily to
see are beauties, fine powerful well-trained animals, and strange to
say, the _mahout_ (driver) of one of them is an old servant of my own.
It is both interesting and amusing to watch them working the timber.
The government have nine elephants employed at the depôt, and there
are other animals belonging to natives at work there also. I often
take my seat on a teak-log, picking out the cleanest and softest for
the purpose, light a cheroot, and watch the performance. Elephants
are pretty much like men; I don’t mean in personal appearance, but in
character. I can pick out “characters I have met” quite easily among
the group of sixteen or eighteen all working there together sometimes.
There are willing workers, and there are skulkers; there are gentle
tempers, and there are others “as dour as a door-nail.” Some of them
will drag a log two tons in weight without a groan; while others,
equally powerful but less willing, will make a dreadful fuss over a
stick that is, comparatively speaking, nothing.
‘There are a good many female elephants employed. Some belong to the
government; but most of them are owned by Karens, who bring them in
from the jungle when work is obtainable. They are not so powerful as
the males; and the want of tusks is rather against them, because they
have to do the pushing or “ounging” part of the work, as the natives
call it, with their trunks. These they roll up in a coil, and just at
the place where the trunk and the head unite, they press against the
log and roll it over.
‘I saw the legs very nearly knocked from under a man two days ago
by a lively female who was rolling over a log in this way. She had
discovered by experience that it was easier to move a heavy log by
a violent jerk than by slow steady pushing; and when the man on her
neck called out “Oung!” and pushed her ear forward with his foot—the
equivalents in elephant-driving for “Go along, old lady!”—she stood
for a moment motionless, then in an instant up coiled the trunk, down
went the head, and away rolled the log, one end of it coming round with
a sweep which all but made an “Aunt Sally” of the innocent spectator.
He sprang from the ground as if he had received an electric shock,
and saved himself; after which he received the congratulations of the
by-standers for being an ass to stand in the way of an elephant like
that.
‘I think the females do a little flirting sometimes when they see a
handsome stately _tusker_ working near them. A little one came in
from the jungle the other day, and was working away with admirable
diligence near the place where my largest elephant was engaged
dragging logs. He is really a noble-looking animal, with immense
tusks that almost touch the ground when his head is in repose. There
is a dignified air about all his movements too which must be very
captivating with the other sex. Sometimes the two passed very near
each other, and I noticed when this happened that the little lady from
the jungle gave utterance to certain peculiar sounds. The only good
imitation of them which I can think of at the moment is that strange
medley of incoherences which a cornopean is sometimes made to produce
when beginners get up steam. Such sounds, for instance, as I have
heard proceeding from the house of a neighbour of yours, when I have
been enjoying a pipe in the garden on a summer afternoon. At first I
thought they were the promptings of fear; but an elephant under these
circumstances generally becomes impatient with the driver, thumps
its trunk upon the ground and “trumpets.” It was simply a little
flirtation, a tender long-drawn-out elephantine kiss thrown at my noble
friend.
‘The highly trained male elephants with tusks manage the “ounging” part
of their work very skilfully. The trunk is used as a pad or buffer
between the ivory and the wood, and the pushing is done steadily. An
average log weighs about a ton and a half. When it has to be pushed
into the river, the elephant feels the end of it with his trunk, and
having ascertained where he can place his tusks with most advantage,
he adjusts the buffer, and starts off pushing the log steadily before
him. Should it happen to be an extra-heavy one, he stops occasionally
to take breath; and as it slides down the muddy bank towards the water,
he gives it a finishing slap, as if to say: “There, you’re afloat at
last!” Sometimes the logs are awkwardly jammed up together, so that the
ends have to be raised in order to get the dragging-chains fastened.
This he does by putting his tusks underneath; and passing his trunk
over the log to keep it steady, lifts it up to the required height.
When it is a very heavy lift, he will go down on his knees to get a
better purchase. He stacks the timber most skilfully also by lifting
the end of the log as much as nine or ten feet in this manner, places
it on the top of the pile, then goes to the other end and pushes it
forward till he gets it quite flush with the rest. In all this he is of
course directed by his rider the _mahout_, who uses certain words which
the elephant has been accustomed to hear; and signs, the meaning of
which he knows perfectly. A push of the foot behind the right or left
ear makes him answer the driver’s wish as a boat answers the rudder,
and a nudge behind the neck means “Straight ahead.”
‘A highly trained elephant, however, will work among timber by _verbal_
directions as intelligently almost as a collie will among sheep.
The finest and best-trained animals are reserved for employment in
the saw-mills, where they work amongst the machinery with sagacity
and precision. Strangers have sometimes been so much impressed with
their admirable qualities in this respect that they have carried away
slightly exaggerated impressions on the subject. One case I remember in
which a spectator was so profoundly overcome by the careful manner in
which he saw the elephant laying planks and slabs on the travelling
benches to be cut, that he gravely reported the circumstance in an
Indian newspaper, remarking that the animal shut one eye when it looked
along the bench, to make sure the timber was laid on for the saw
accurately!
‘Some male elephants have no tusks. These are called _hines_ by the
Burmese. The most powerful animal I ever had was one of them. He
was very tall, and in strength a perfect Samson among elephants. An
incident in his history is worth relating here, as I am on the subject.
In the month of January male elephants sometimes give trouble. Samson
had fallen into a capricious mood, under the influence of a little
siren belonging to the herd, and in a fit of jealousy he frightened
all the others so thoroughly one night that they broke their fetters
and made a bolt of it out of the timber-yard, with Samson in pursuit.
One unfortunate member who was on the sick-list at the time and had an
impediment in his walk, was bowled over and trampled on several times,
and was never fit for anything but the hospital afterwards. The others
took to the jungle, and it cost some money to recover them. Samson
remained in possession of the timber-yard for three whole days, no
living thing daring to venture near him.
‘I have watched a fowl that had thoughtlessly gone to scrape for its
morning meal on the accustomed spot in the rear of the elephant-shed,
run for its bare life, with Samson after it at full speed, trunk and
tail extended! Crowds of people used to collect daily, most of them at
a highly respectful distance however, to witness the giant keeping the
world at bay. Sometimes an adventurous native, out of pure mischief
would approach within thirty yards or so of him spear in hand, when
Samson would thump his trunk upon the ground and rush at the intruder,
who soon disappeared under the nearest verandah. The poor animal was
helpless against such tactics. They were to him what the deprivation of
sight was to his prototype; but the desire for revenge was there still,
and he tried his strength upon the posts of the building, attempting
to push them down. When he had failed in this, he deliberately set
about unroofing it with his trunk; whereupon the tormentor pricked his
legs from underneath the house with his spear, and made him desist.
After carrying on this game till he got tired, he walked off with his
companion one night to the jungle, and selected a spot for his future
residence close to a mud-pool.
‘For some days he made raids upon the adjoining gardens, eating up the
fruit-trees without compunction; and in revenge for some opposition
he met with from a market-gardener who did not appreciate his new
neighbour’s high-handed way of doing things, levelled his hut to the
ground. Things were beginning to get serious. Claims for damages became
unpleasantly frequent, and it was absolutely necessary to put a stop
to his depredations. Accordingly, I sent out a deputation of elephants
to wait upon him, with picked men as drivers and attendants, for the
purpose of bringing him to reason. There were ten elephants altogether,
the senior member being a very patriarchal-looking animal with an
immense pair of tusks—the one, in fact, who was always employed to
settle difficulties among the juniors; and in this capacity he had been
uniformly successful. When the deputation arrived at the spot, Samson
was enjoying his morning bath in the mud, and they surrounded him. The
patriarch, with the chief _mahout_ driving, and another good man and
true behind him, for the purpose of supplying any lack of moral courage
that might manifest itself under trying circumstances, was taken
nearest to the renegade. His sweetheart was quietly browsing among the
bamboos close by. The moment Samson realised the situation, he made a
rush from the bath at the patriarch, who forgetting his wonted dignity
of manner, turned tail and bolted. The hook and the spear with which
the drivers were armed alike failed to restore courage to the leader.
On he went, tearing through the jungle, the branches of trees and
thorny creepers making sad havoc with the persons of the men on his
back. His bad example demoralised the whole force; they fled for their
lives every one of them. At last it came to be a race between Samson
and the patriarch, the other elephants having made lateral tracks for
themselves and got clear of danger. When it came to close quarters
between the two, the _mahout_ thinking discretion the better part of
valour, laid hold of the branch of a tree as he passed and held on,
leaving the other man to his fate. In a very short time he too was
unseated, but in an involuntary manner; the elephant shot under the
branch of a tree which did not afford space for the man to pass under
as well, and he was swept to the ground. He was able, however, to elude
the pursuer, who was so eager to get at the four-footed fugitive that
he took no notice of the fallen rider as he crawled along into the
thick jungle.
‘Fortunately no life was lost in this most exciting adventure. Even
the patriarch got off scot-free. When tired of the pursuit, Samson
returned to his rural retreat. The deputation got home in the evening,
more frightened than hurt. I administered chlorodyne with much success
to those whose bruises and lacerations bespoke a sleepless night; and
it has since been regarded as a specific for patients suffering from
cutaneous diseases and nervous excitement.
‘But I have not done with Samson yet. He was a valuable elephant, and
I was most anxious to recover him. I offered a reward of two hundred
rupees (twenty pounds) to any one who would bring him in; and a few
days afterwards he came marching into the timber-yard as gentle as a
lamb, with a young lad astride on his neck. This youth was the son of
the man from whom I had purchased him, and the boy had been familiar
with the animal from his childhood. Hearing of the reward that was
offered for the apprehension of his old pet, he set off in quest of
him. When he found him, he made use of the terms with which Samson had
formerly been familiar. There was no longer any difficulty. The youth
took him by the ear, told him to give him a leg up—the usual way for
_mahouts_ to mount their steeds—and immediately Samson was himself
again. Next day he was on duty, looking as if nothing had happened,
and his little friend was the possessor of a reward which to him was a
small fortune. Such is the affinity between God’s creatures which the
law of kindness establishes. The little fellow had really more power in
the tones of his voice over the huge animal than a phalanx of its own
species under the direction of a score of men!
‘There are elephants that have naturally one tusk only. These are
called _tays_ by the natives here. When the single tusk happens to be
on the right side of the head, literally as well as metaphorically,
and the animal otherwise is large and well proportioned, he is greatly
prized by the native princes of India. They seem to regard him with
veneration, as the Burmese do the so-called white elephant. There is
one of these _tays_ at the depôt at present. He is the largest and most
powerful animal in the government herd; but age is telling upon him,
and now he is chiefly occupied in doing “the heavy-father” amongst the
youngsters. When they have tried their best and given up in despair
some log which none of them can drag, the _tay_ is brought to the
front, his chain is fastened to it, and as he walks off, apparently
without inconvenience to himself, be it ever so heavy, his eye really
seems to have “Bless you, my children!” &c. in it. I have watched
him often, and I think my interpretation of his feelings is pretty
nearly correct. I was told by the superintendent of the depôt that
native princes had sent messengers from India to try and purchase this
elephant for state purposes, offering as much as five thousand rupees
for him; but he has a value where he is which does not consist in a
superstitious veneration for his single tusk, but in the virtue which
lies in a friend in need.’