* u
-WILMOI
|
FOR THE PEOPLE ' |
|
FOR EDVCATION |
|
' FORSCIENCE • |
LIBRARY
OF
THE AMERICAN MUSEUM
OF
NATURAL HISTORY
ASTATIC HALT. COLLKCTTOX
OF THE
LIBRARY OF
THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAI. HISTORY
l^RESENTEn BY ARTHUR VERNAY, Set-tember, 1928
^/-^-^^-^-^
i^ /f 2«
The Life of an Elephant
^
^
^
The
Life of an Elephant
By
S. Eardley-Wilmot, K.C.I.E.
Author of ' The Life of a Tiger,' ' Forest Life and Snorr in India ' etc.
Illustrated by
Iris Eardley-Wilmot
LONDON
EDWARD ARNOLD
1912
Ali right i reserved
iMfiiraifriMJf
nii«f}tmiiEwr![i!>:f!iurnn5nj:w5;tijn5!jMii?;i;;!t5tHl»!uii)JijiiiH)iajjiaJi
The
Life of an Elephant
By
S. Eardley-Wilmot, K.C.I.E.
Author of ' The Life of a Tiger,' ' Forest Life and Sport in India,' etc.
Illustrated by
Iris Eardley-Wilmot
LONDON
EDWARD ARNOLD
1912
All rights rese>-ved
.^SMIEM-
CHAPTER PAGE
Introduction ------ ix
I. The Arrival of the Herd - - - i
11. Birth of the Calf- - - - - 12
III. Early Experiences- - - - - 30
IV. The Monarchs of the Herd - - 45 V. Captivity • - 5^
VI. In Training for Work - - - - 70
VII. A Change of Masters - - - - 91
VIII. In Training for Sport - - - - 107
IX. The Kheddah - - - - - 119
X. Hunting Scenes 13^
XI. Some Dangers of the Forest - - 147
XII. Processional Duties - - - - 162
XIII. The End ------- i73
LIST OF PLATES
They came to Rest on the crowded and
BUSY Waters Frontispiece
Columns of Fog rose - - - facing page lo
The other Elephants with whom he was
assocl\ted - - So
Along the Side of the River were Crowded
Temples ------- 92
Fires were again lit to cook the Morning Meal 102
The Elephants were caparisoned for a
Shooting Party - - - - - - no
As Daylight appeared over the Hills and the
Sun's Rays struck in Slanting Lines - 122
A Man, seated high on a Platform, was .^ watching for Nocturnal Robbers - 168
The Snake uncoiled Himself -
INTRODUCTION
THERE are three animals which have responded in a superlative degree to attempts to make them the servants and friends of man — the horse, the dog and the elephant ; the two former are found in more or less domestic intimacy all over the world ; the dog having the advantage that his size enables him in all climates to be companionable ; while, in those countries only where it is possible to live a life in the open, the horse has an almost equal chance in this respect. The bulk of the elephant, on the other hand, is destructive of familiarity ; it is not everyone who can main- tain a stud, or even one of these animals, so that those who have passed many years in their company are few compared with the owners of dogs and horses. All the more reason, then, that the elephant in his aspect
X InU^oduction
of servant and friend to man should receive due recognition before the spread of civilisa- tion, absorbing the waste lands and primeval forests of the East, shall result in finding for him no more use and therefore no more room.
The record of the elephant is in no way inferior to that of the horse or dog. In agriculture and commerce he has, like them, been used in tilling the soil and in transporting merchandise ; and, like them, also has carried out this work in conditions which have made him almost indispensable.
In the field of sport he has proved his value ; and in real warfare, from the period when, covered with chain armour, he bore the castellated howdah into battle, or battered in the great gates of a citadel, to the time when he dragged the siege guns into position, he has never, when ridden by a trusty driver, flinched from wounds or death in the service of man. Of the horse and dog as well as of the elephant it may be said that they have failed at times in moments of difficulty. So
Introduction xi
also has man, and perhaps chiefly for the same reason, — that the leader or rider was not trusted, that he has communicated his fear or indecision by voice, by pressure of knees or hands, and that, in this absence of authority, each was free to follow natural instincts which before were under control.
It is a common saying in India that an elephant once mauled by a tiger is ever after useless for sport ; it is also the fashion to assert that the sporting elephant has nothing to fear from a tiger. Both of these statements are far from the truth. When man, with the aid of a line of elephants, is engaged in putting a tiger to death, retaliation on his part is practically out of the question; but it is another matter when a single elephant proposes to drive a wounded tieer out of hicrh orass where he lies invisible and can choose his own oppor- tunity for assault. In such cases a female elephant has no weapons of defence, and the male only in cases where a frontal attack is delivered ; while both are prevented by careful training from taking any initiative whatever
xii Int7^oductio7i
either in self-defence or flight. In these circumstances, when an elephant has been so torn and mangled by a tiger that recovery is not completed till after three or four months of careful attention, and at the time has shown no fear, and later on has shown no disinclina- tion to carry its rider into similar danoer, it may be inferred that this forest tribe does not fail in couras^e such as would be considered specially worthy of praise in the dog and quite extraordinary in the horse. Cases are known where a doer has attacked a tiorer, and a horse has been used even to drive him off his kill, but it is probable that careful search would have to be made in the annals of sport before many authentic cases could be produced to show that either of these animals, after being wounded well nigh to death, has cheerfully taken a similar risk after recovery.
As to sagacity, the elephant need fear no rival in horse or door. Here he has the
o
advantage of possessing a hand, which they have not. With it he can pick up by suction the smallest object, or carry a log weighing
l7itroduction xiii
many hundredweights ; with it he can either caress or slay ; and with it he can break down stout trees or extract the stone from a peach without losing a particle of the pulp. A well- trained horse will lie down at the word of command and afford shelter to his master ; a well-trained dog" will retrieve his master's property and deliver it when ordered ; an elephant will do both, and more. He will assist his rider to mount and dismount either by raising and lowering him on his trunk, or by bending fore or hind-leg to form a step. He will pass under an obstacle "on all fours" if it be too low to permit of his standing upright ; he will suffer severe operations without being chloroformed or bound, when a blow from foot or trunk would put a summary end to surgical interference. Those who have witnessed the extraction of an elephant's molar tooth by means of a crow-bar and mallet, who have assisted at the opening of a deep-seated ulcer, and have seen the suffering of the animal expressed only in tears and groans, will place him for sagacity and forbearance in a
xiv Introductio7i
class above that which any other domesticated animal can hope to reach.
But while the elephant has one thing in common with other domestic animals, namely, that his obedience and affection can be won only with kindness, he also possesses the characteristic of lono--remembered resentment for any wanton injury or insult. It is almost as if the attitude of this animal towards man were that of gratitude, expressed in willing service, for kindness received, and intolerance of in- justice. The natural ferocity inborn in all wild animals, with whom self-preservation must be the first law, is with him only latent. It may, and sometimes does burst forth on occasions, which on enquiry are often found to be almost justifiable ; for here it is not a case of long- descent from domesticated forefathers, but, as a rule, a sudden change in the individual from independence to slavery, which makes the results attained even more astoundino^.
There are vicious elephants, as there are vicious horses and dogs. Such can never be trained to the use of mankind. They are
Introduction xv
instances of a perverted nature, often perhaps the result of brain or other hidden troubles ; and their removal is indicated for the welfare of those around them. Thus it was in former years that the country-bred horse of India deserved a bad name for kicking and biting whenever opportunity occurred ; that the dog of the East was a treacherous and snarling beast, an outcast from the homes of men ; and thus it is that now, when the example of the West has shown what can be done in the alteration of these evil traits, the animals concerned are losing their vicious attributes and thereby increasing their value as servants of man.
The sportsman in the East is happy when he can add to two faithful friends — the horse and the dog— a third in the elephant. As he emeroes from his tent with his favourite terrier bounding by his side and his favourite horse whinnying at his approach, he is proud of the affection and confidence shown him. There is perhaps a still deeper feeling when his elephant gurgles with pleasure as he comes
xvi Introdiictioit
closer, and without word of command at once commences to kneel down so that he may mount ; for here is an animal who has tasted of the pleasures of a free life, whose strength and sagacity are such that obedience cannot be compelled, and who yet places himself entirely at the disposal of man, content with fair treatment, and instantly responsive to kindness in word or deed.
CHAPTER I
The Arrival of the Herd
^ 'TpHE summit of the bill was crowned with ■*- a grove of lofty trees. They had stood thus for centuries, opposing their columned strength against wind and storms, against the onslaught of tropical rainfall, even in spite of earth tremors that made them shiver with apprehension. Their crowns were interlaced, so that they must stand or fall together ; it was an effective alliance against the forces of nature, which no single tree could hope to withstand. Within the grove, where the buttressed trunks rose suddenly from the soft earth, stood an ancient shrine, a hermit's cell with rou^h stone walls, and a little temple in whose dim recesses might be seen vaguely some
2 The Life of a?! Klephant
symbol of a demon or god, unknown perhaps to the outside world, but appealing to the hearts of the jungle folk, who, suffering patiently as the animals suffer, like them also blindly sought relief. That ruo^ored track, which led from the hill-top into the depth of the forest below, had been marked out by the feet of the votaries of the shrine, who each, as he left after suppli- cation, cast a stone on the slowly growing- mounds at the entrance to the grove.
From the hill-top the forest spread on all sides as far as the eye could reach, and it lost itself in the distant horizon w^here the purple outline of the hills faded into the azure of the evening sky. There was wave upon wave of hills covered with trees, so that the earth lay hidden, and down in the valleys one saw nothing but the crowns of trees forming an impenetrable carpet of foliage ; only along the ridoes the li^ht filtered in vertical streaks through the closed-up ranks of tree trunks. If there were villages they were hidden in masses of trees ; the forest engulfed them and reigned supreme in this lonely corner of the earth.
The Arrival of the Herd
^L\
The sun sank, and the brilHant light of day was followed by the soft illumination of the stars. The forest became dim and indefinite amid an intense and motionless silence. There was no sound of wind, or of animal life ; the dew had not begun to drip from the foliage, and each leaf was still as if arrested in its task. Yet there was no sense of fear or oppression : rather the atmosphere was charged with the vitality of countless millions of plants rejoicing in their growth, struggling against the competition of their
4 The Life of an Elephant
neighbours, and seizing every chance which offered to reach towards the life-giving light.
At such a time there came upon any human being dwelling in the forest, first, a conviction of nature's absolute indifference to his pro- ceedings, and next, the peace conferred by personal irresponsibility, to which, if a man succumbs, he joins the vast army of hermits, religious mendicants, and other parasites ; while, if he resists, he is left to work out a strenuous existence in conflict with the wild beasts and against the pressure of overwhelming vegetation.
As night drew on the cooler air became charged with moisture and wrapped itself in mist. The leaves of the forest trees were weighted with the dampness they exuded ; it no longer passed away in invisible vapour, but trickled earthwards in heavy splashes, like the sullen sound of windless rain. From hundreds of miles of forest came the sound of dripping- water in a ceaseless murmur, which increased the weirdness of the scene, and even served to
The Arrival of the Herd
5
0"
P
make any other sound more distinct. Thus it was that a movement became audible in the distance, at first so sHght as to be indis- tinguishable ; it was as if foliage was being quietly brushed aside, as if the dew-laden grass was being crushed by a gentle yet irresistible force. Standing on the summit of the hill, one looked down on a pass between the mountains,
a curved saddle that invited to an easier passage from valley to valley. Over this low pass the waves of mist eddied to and fro, just as if each valley in turn filled with cloud and over- flowed into the next.
From the depths below a herd of elephants were ascend- ing the pass in single file and in silence. The leader, an
(g
The Life of an Rlephant
old female, first appeared in sight, walking quickly along the narrow trail. Her trunk hung limply from her broad forehead, touching the earth lightly alternately to right and to left, and with instant precision the forefoot was placed on the spot which had been tested, and the oval print of the hind foot immediately over- lapped the rounder track. She passed through the eddies of fog, which at times seemed to swallow her up, at others allowed but the glistening outline of her back to become visible ; or agrain hid all but the ponderous legs which moved with regularity through the dim air.
Following, came others who seemed careless of dangler through confidence in their leader. Each set foot in the trail of
^^
The Arrival of the Herd 7
its predecessor, so that soon there was but one track sunk deep in the soft earth, as if some old-time mammoth of enormous size had passed that way. Females, young ,v->^ N
calves, youthful tuskers, all passed in { )^ succession, each rising into sight and disappearing over the narrow pass, plunged into obscurity on the further side. There was silence in the ranks, for the animals were on the march, intent on changing their quarters ere dawn should break. They might have been so travellino- for hours, and mig-ht continue their resistless way for many more ere they halted thirty or forty miles from their starting point.
Some hours later there was promise of day- light in the sky. The mist now lay thicker over the forest, it had sunk into impenetrable strata which rested heavily on the land. Above its sharp upper line the tops of hills stood out like islands in a sea of white ; along the ridges the crowns of trees appeared as if floating in the waves, their stems were
8 The Life of an Rlephant
hidden In the {o<y. Ao^ain a movement was heard, and from below a single elephant approached, carelessly follow- ing in the trail of the herd. As he gained the top of the pass he stood motionless, save for the twitching of the ex- tended trunk, which sucked up the air and brought him such information as he required as to his surroundings. He stood, black as ebony against the white of the mist, on short stout legs with heavy bulk of body and straight back. His forehead was broad, and the huge trunk tapered away so that its fingered end lay on the ground at his feet. Two sharp and thick tusks gleamed below the intelligent hazel eyes that looked calmly from between the shaggy eyelashes.
With body glistening with moisture and reflecting the growing light in undulating patches, the tusker turned and disappeared over the pass into the mist below, and as he went the sun rose over the distant horizon and changed the calm sea of snow into ripples of
The Arrival of the Herd 9
rose and pearl, agitated by the breath of dawn and stirred by the growing warmth. Here and there columns of fog rose, to be dissipated in the clearer air ; on all sides, as when the tide ebbs on a summer day, the mist receded ; the islands became mountains once more, the floating tree-tops were again anchored to the solid ground, and before long, save in hidden depths of the forest, the heated air had absorbed all visible moisture, the leaves of countless plants again began to draw up water from the soil and to give out vapour.
It was while this change was proceeding that a man emerged from the darkness of the hermit's cell and stood blinking at the dawn. Belated, he had evidently passed the night in the security of stone walls in the absence of their usual tenant. The man was of small stature but heavily built ; his dress consisted of a short cotton jacket and a loin-cloth tightly drawn. Arms and legs were bare, showing the firm muscles and the bronze-coloured skin : his long hair was collected in a twist at the back of the head, and secured by a silver pin. For
lo The Life of a7i Rlephant
weapons he carried in his hand an ancient single-barrel musket ; while, thrust into the loin-cloth at his back, was a heavy, but sheath- less, knife whose handle protruded conveniently to the grasp of his right hand. As to beauty of features this being possessed none : but his eyes were wide-set and clear, and in demeanour and movement he gave the instantaneous im- pression of physical endurance and courage. Turning to the east, he saluted the rising sun, as if to give thanks that the hours of darkness were past, then, making obeisance to the wood- land shrine, he strode with easy, elastic tread to the pass below.
Long before he had reached its summit he was aware that elephants had passed in the night ; instinctively he had estimated the number of the herd and of its various members, and he knew that the herd-bull had followed but lately on the trail of his harem. For a few moments he also stood looking into the valley from whence the fogs of night had now re- treated, and then, following the trail, he was swallowed up in the mass of vegetation below,
"Columns of fog rose.
The Arrival of the Herd n
just as an emmet might disappear in a sea of grass. Above, a breeze began to blow from the north-east, and fleecy clouds were forming on the horizon. An eagle swung over the forest, searching the open spaces for unsus- picious prey. Insects passed humming in busiest flight, but the forest beneath lay dark and unmoved, save that the upper foliage was ruflled with the wind.
o">
^- ' CHAPTER II
a'
Birth of the Calf
^ I ^HERE was no difficulty In
--' -^ following the trail. It stretched
O away through the forest in a curving
'<^ line, the brown earth showing darkly
^'^) against the green of the herbage,
r"^, avoiding the stems of the tall trees
which reached one hundred feet and
more towards the sky,
(^ [ \ forming a lane through
the rank vegetation,
^'"^> and marked here and
^^ ^ there by overturned
^ ^ bamboo clumps or
^xT ^li splintered saplings.
The man kept to one
side of the deeply
{ ^^'^\ indented footmarks, for
(r\
Birth of the Calf 13
these were so widely spaced that over them it was impossible to maintain the easy stride with which he • passed through the forest; his only care was to observe in time any deviation from the trail by some member of the herd, so that he might not find himself suddenly ambuscaded, or taken unawares. The trees were still dripping with moisture though the sun was half-way to the zenith ; the buttressed and fluted stems stood singly or in small groups, with broad-leaved crowns enjoying the light, while below them a mass of lesser stems of bamboos, of bushes and of grass all strove as far as they might towards the source of life.
Around the stems giant climbers had worked their spirals upwards, deeply indenting the tender bark and in some cases suffocating the tree with luxuriant foliage ; or epiphytic fig-trees had encased their hosts with tight- fitting jackets of wood, from which there was no escape. It was piteous to picture the struggles of these forest giants against the parasites, to contemplate the helplessness of
14 The Life of an Elephant
these fine examples of the noblest form of vegetation.
It was when the heat of the sun was making itself felt that the trail seemed to disappear, to break up into branches too numerous to follow. The man cast around for the foot- marks of the herd-bull, and followed in these with the greatest caution and stealth. He had not far to oro. At a few hundred yards he detected the ele- phant standing motionless in the shade of a clump of bamboos, and returning, eneral direction taken by the herd with an easier mind. They were resting in a small clearing in the forest by a pool of stagnant water, throwing the wet, cool earth over head and back, the while plucking up the grasses, brushing away the clinging soil by beating the stems against the forefoot and then biting off the succulent roots and casting to one side the withered stalks.
All told, there must have been some forty
Birth of the Calf
15
animals in the herd, consisting of half-grown elephants of both sexes, of mature females and of quite young- calves. Of these latter some were lying down as if weary after the long march, others were tor- menting their mothers for food, but nowhere did there seem to be any apprehension of evil, and the man, from a distance of some fifty yards, was able to make his observations undisturbed. Without alarming the herd, he also withdrew to a safe distance, then, with one enquiring glance towards the sky, which seemed to afford him instantaneous information as to his whereabouts, he struck into the forest, taking a bee-line for his home.
His progress at first was but slow ; he was impeded by the luxuriance of the vegetation, and had to stoop to avoid overhanging boughs, or to climb over fallen stems ; but after an hour or so of this work he emerged on a
i6
The Ltfe of an Klephant
narrow footway, a beaten track between the scattered villaoes, and started running^ with pattering feet and with that renewal of con- fidence which evidence of the neighbourhood of fellow men seems to give to human beings, sometimes quite unjustifiably. The sun was well on the downward path before the man,
hungry and weary, observed smoke, the proof of the dominance of man over beast, rise in the clear sky. He crossed a stream on a narrow bridge of bamboo, and before him stood the fence of a stockaded village.
From the inside of the fence proceeded the barking of dogs and the lowing of cattle, the laughter and talking of those engaged in
Birth of the Calf 17
cooking- the evening- meal ; from the outside was visible nothino- but a wall of interlaced bamboos whose sharpened ends would make an attempt at escalade extremely unpleasant. The man turned and followed the fence till he reached a gateway, flanked on either side by a small watch tower, while between these a massive door, now open, hung on primitive hinges. He entered, and before him stretched the main street of the village, muddy and uncared for ; on each side were small huts raised on piles some five feet from the ground, with wide verandahs and walls and roofs of bamboo matting. Beneath
these huts lay heaps of refuse ,^ >/. A^^^ (n- , , amongst which dogs and xv/ . . .x/"".' - '^^r' fowls hunted for appetising morsels. Above, the women V^
sat at small hand-looms or otherwise employed in domestic labour, while children, stark naked, rolled or gambolled on the slippery floors.
In these days of civilization, when man has become dependent for his comfort, even for his existence, upon the exertions of others, it
1 8 The Liife of a7i E,lepha7n
was interestino- to wander throuoh the abode of a self-supporting community such as this. There was not a man amongst them who could not have wrested a living from nature ; the village fields and the wide forests supplied the raw material for every necessity of life ; the conversion of this material into products fit for use was carried out more or less in each household. Of domestic animals there were few. The buffaloes, but half-tamed and with horns so enormous that heads were held sideways when secured under one yoke, dragged the ploughs through the muddy rice-fields or drew the carts along the jungle tracks. Their coming was heralded with the most appalling and dis- cordant sounds, intentionally caused by the grinding of w^ooden axles in wooden wheels, and desio-ned to drive off hostile beasts or spirits. When the light work of a few months was over, the buffaloes were driven into the forest, to be rounded up when wanted, often to the daneer of the limbs or even lives of the owners.
The rice, wdien harvested, was husked by the
Bii^th of the Calf 19
women, who were also experts in preparing condiments of fish or vegetables to savour their monotonous food. It was the women also who wove the cloths of cotton or silk, who cured the tobacco on the bamboo frames, who rolled the big cigars in the tender sheath of the growing bamboo. For the men remained the more arduous tasks of building and repairing the homestead, and of defending the villaoe from man or beast. Each carried the heavy knife of the country, so balanced in its handle that it seemed to ouide the hand that swuno- it in its deadly work. Yet with it at one moment the owner would be fellino^ bamboos of a foot circumference at one blow, or at the next be opening a green coco-nut to drink the cooling milk, or peeling with care a pine- apple as with a silver knife. The ever-present bamboo was put to a hundred uses ; they wove it into baskets to hold many bushels of grain, or into others so fine that they might be folded flat without injury ; from the bamboo they constructed matting cool and polished to the feet, vessels for storing drinking water, even
20
The Life of ait Elephant
Into receptacles in which rice could be cooked on emergency.
Where civilized man would go naked and hungry, these people lived in comfort, alert and deeply versed in these matters which were of immediate importance to their existence, for it was only through their intimate acquaint- ance with w^ld nature around them that they
could hope to overcome the forces arrayed against them. And yet, in the midst of what some might consider ignorance and savagery, there were ample signs of discipline and charity. To one side of the village stood the monastery, built of teak-wood and adorned with artistic carvings, the labour of love of the charitable. Around its courts of well-beaten clay stood fruit-trees carefully tended and
Birth of the Calf
21
generous In their return of fruit and shade ; and here a few monks led a Hfe of retirement and Introspection. Each morning they passed through the village clad In robes of saffron, holding the bowls which were eagerly filled with choice morsels for the midday meal ; every day the boys of the village sat In rows on the polished floors of the dim hall, and learnt to read and write. Imbibing at the same time the ancient precepts of hospitality and ofoodwill to mankind.
The monastery was never silent. During the day there was the chatter of the children or the sing-song reading from the old books ; durino- the evenlno^ the oronos were sending ripples of sound throuoh the warm air. Even at night, when all slept, the tinkling of the pagoda bells rose and fell with the passing- breezes ; and when the day broke and the sun suddenly leaped from the horizon the gilded peepul leaves, which struck
22
The Life of a?i Elephant
the tiny notes, flashed with every eddy in the breeze.
The house of the headman of the village was noticeable for its superior size and cleanH- ness. It stood towards the centre of the village, and near the travellers' shelter, where all who journeyed were welcome to rest and break their fast. To one side, under a small open shed, stood the war drum, a vast metal bowl covered with skin, whose sonorous boominor in olden times re-echoed through the hills when the clans were called to battle, but which was now used chiefly as an alarm in case of fire or of attack from midnight robbers. i\t its sound every able-bodied man would seize his arms and rally to the call, while w^omen and children would take whatever weapon came to hand, spear or knife, and, pulling up the ladder affording access to the homestead, would defend themselves as best thev mio'ht against intruders. Here, too, the
Birth of the Calf 23
man made his report of elephants in the neighbourhood, and here we may leave him to food and rest in his home.
Meanwhile the herd of elephants, finding food, shade and water in the vicinity, spread themselves at ease over the country with no intention of travelling during the ensuing night. One amonorst them there was who had roamed uneasily during the day, avoiding her fellows, seeking vaguely for retirement in some spot sheltered and secure. Annoyed by the busy idleness of the herd, she wandered to a distance, and as evening fell found herself alone ; at her back a perpendicular rock, still festooned with moss and ferns, before her a tangle of bamboos from which issued stems of straight trees whose leafy crowns gave promise of shelter from the midday sun.
As morning dawned wuth tropical haste a bear came sauntering past the spot, self- absorbed, as is the custom of his tribe, thinking solely of the good fortune of the past night when he had found abundance of fruit, longing for his lair where he mii^fht doze and drowse
24 'The Life of a7i Elephant
through the daylight hours. To him came suddenly a loud hissing sound, followed by the thud of a heavy blow on the earth. He leapt to one side with an agility remarkable in one so clumsily built, and saw within a few yards an elephant standing with its back to a rock, at its feet a huddled mass which he suspected to be a new-born calf. He did not stay to in- vestioate. With a bound he hurled himself into the underwood, and, as the noise of his headlong flight died away in the forest, the elephant commenced to rumble deeply with a sound like the purrings of some gigantic cat, undecided whether to be pleased or angry.
The calf lay extended at his mother's feet, under the shelter of her head and trunk, as yet too weak to rise ; from time to time she waved the flies away with her trunk or gently kicked the soft earth so that it fell in light showers on his body. On such occasions her foot struck the ground so near to the reclining calf that one could not but wonder at the extreme accuracy of her movements, an accuracy which in the human race is only acquired by the
Birth of the Calf
25
constant application to some one handicraft. She had stood thus for some hours and would so stand for many more, without food save such as she might reach from her post of sentinel ; not until the calf was able to take nourishment would she move from the spot, lest harm should befall the helpless young. It was not, in fact, till the commencement of the second day that the calf uttered grunts and murmurs of discontent, and then his mother raised him to his feet by aid of trunk and forefoot, and so guided his trembling limbs and supported him till he found the udders pendent from the breast and oalned strength as he satisfied his hunoer.
And so the days passed In feeding and sleeping, the mother always within sight or hearing of her young, always ready to face any odds in Its protection, returning to Its side whenever any suspicious sound reached her ears, or when the wind brought notice of the approach of any man or any beast that might
26
The Life of an Rlepha7tt
be harmful, till, at the end of ten days, the calf was able to walk, to follow his mother for short distances at a time, then lie down to sleep while she satisfied her hunger. She, still full of maternal care, moved persistently, yet slowly, in the direction followed by the herd, hoping soon to overtake them and so profit by the protection their numbers afforded, and she had indeed nearly attained her object without mishap when an adventure occurred which miorht have altered the whole course of
o
this narrative.
One morning, aware of the proximity of the herd, and intending to join them during the day, the elephant was grazing on the bamboo shoots and grass, not far from the spot where her calf was lying, when her sensitive nostrils o-ave notice of danorer. She waved her trunk in the direction of the wind, inhaling deeply,
then strode hurriedly to where her calf was hidden, standing over him as he lay. The next moment a tigress
Birth of the Calf 27
appeared on the scene, lean and anxious look- ing-, seemingly pressed by hunger, evidendy, too, the mother of young ^,r<y\
cubs whose Increasing de- \F-,'=."^)\\} })J mands for food had to be ><\\ .(iiA
satisfied. In point of fact the animal was starvlno^: for days she had been unsuccessful in the hunt, and she must eat or die, and with her her helpless family. She had scented the presence of the young calf, and thus It was that nature In Its cruelty had ordained that the love of these mothers for their offspring should lead up to a struggle which must end in the slaying of one family, yet resulting in no apparent good.
The tigress walked slowly round the elephant, continually decreasing the distance between them, her object being to drive off the mother and then kill the defenceless calf. The ele- phant also turned slowly, keeping her head to the foe. Soon the tio-ress made a rush towards the calf, and was met by a kick from the elephant's hind leg, which staggered her for the moment and made her resume her prowl in the
28 The Life of a?i Elephant
hope of finding some better opening for attack. The duel proceeded in silence, and gradually an arena was formed in the forest, a circle of trampled grass where no concealment was possible. Several times the tigress made on- slaughts, only to be repulsed, and, at the last, savage at her ill-success, she bounded at the elephant's head, clasping her with armed fore- paws, burying her fangs in the soft fiesh at the base of the trunk ; scratching wildly at fore-legs with her hind claws, hoping that she could drag the elephant to earth and inflict such painful injuries that she would desert her young. The elephant flinched under the attack, and then stood firm. Maddened with pain and fear she knelt and tried to crush the adversary with her weight, but the tigress held firmly, and, with the purchase gained, pulled violently to one side in the attempt to throw the elephant. She, despairing, rose to her feet, rushed blindly forward in the desire to get rid of this rending, biting torment, and so by good fortune hurled herself full against the stem of a stout tree. She felt the tigress crushed against her bony
Birth of the Calf 29
forehead, and the grip relaxed ; again she butted with her full strength, and the enemy fell limply at her feet. Then, possessed solely by the fury of battle and of pain, she stamped on the still writhing body, crushing it to a pulp, kicking it till but a muddy mass remained to show her victory. At last, streaming with blood, trembling with excitement, she returned to her calf, feeling it over with her wounded trunk, satisfying herself that it had suffered no harm.
That evening, the elephant, scarred with many wounds, now plastered with clay to keep off the attacks of tiies, rejoined her tribe after many days of danger and tribulation, and felt once more in the safety of home. But the tio^ress's cubs were calling for their mother, till their feeble cries died away in a whimpering protest as the weakness and pain of starvation gradually overcame them.
CHAPTER III
Early Experiences
URING the absence of the elephant and her calf the herd had not remained unmolested. Beyond the intrusion of man, its members had little to fear in the vast jungles in which they roamed : and man was such an infrequent visitor that of him they felt little dread. They came, Indeed, most often into contact with him when they entered his special domain : the level, fruitful lands around the villages, where the rice rose from the staonant water In orolden ranks, each ear
o o
gracefully bending with the weight of grain ; where the plantain groves reared ragged leaves
Early Experiences 31
against the sky, and the tender green of the
young shoots sheltered in the protection of
the juicy stems. Rice
and plantains were well
worth the risk
of a midnight
foray in the
hopes that the
owners would
not wake
durino- the
spoliation and inter
fere to protect their
property with torches,
guns and drums, all
more disagreeable than terrible to the robbers.
In their own domain in the primeval forest, the
elephants took litde notice of human beings ;
certainly some morose tusker, or mother with
calf at foot, might resent too near an approach,
or, if stumbled upon inadvertently, would
brush the intruder away with a brusqueness
that meant death ; otherwise, in the forest, man
was not a force to be seriously reckoned with ;
32 The I^ife of a7i Rlephant
and this fact, perhaps, rendered it easier for man to take toll of the herd from time to time.
For in this country the elephant was valuable as a slave ; in his youth he could convey his master across the pathless swamps, and as he became stronger he could carry loads of unhusked rice from the homestead to the waterways ; when mature he could assist in draofSfino- timber to the streams, and in relieving- the jams of floating logs caused by the violence of the monsoon floods ; and, if he developed into a heavy animal with perfect tusks, he could be employed in the timber yards to carry or move logs of tons in weight, and might even later on be selected to bear in procession or on shooting trips those whom men permit to be rulers over them. And all this service w^as exacted in return for simple board and lodging, which in youth cost nothing, and later on a sum, if insignificant, yet given grudgingly, solely for the purpose of maintaining the health and physique of
Ear/y Experiences
33
a valuable servant. When young the elephant,
after a day's work, was turned loose in a
forest with a heavy iron chain
attached to one leg, whereby
his movements left a trail
easily followed by his owner.
As his labour and time became
more valuable, food of the
cheapest would be brought to
him, and when older he would
probably be given a weekly ration of wheaten
cakes, of sugar or butter to assist in appeasing
his growing appetite.
Thus it was that one mornino- before the
sudden dawn had sprung into the sky, at the
stillest hour, when man is yet asleep, and when
animals are seeking their rest, the village gate
was opened, and a tiny party of two elephants
and four men passed out into the dimness of
the forest and disappeared from sight. On the
narrow path the feet of the elephants made
no sound ; from time to time in passing under
the arched bamboos a stem was struck and
instantly responded with a shower of dew, c
34
The Life of a7i Klephant
drenching both the elephants and their riders ;
or grass, whose flowering tops were weighted
with moisture, was brushed aside as the party made its way through the dripping forest. The sun was well up when a halt was made at the edoe
o
of a forest glade, and the simple equipment of the hunters could be observed. Each man carried a heavy knife whose handle pro- truded from the tightly-drawn loin-cloth within ready reach of his right hand. Other weapons or clothing they had none, now that the cotton coverlet had been thrown aside. For im- plements of the chase each elephant carried a stout and long rope of fibre, twisted from the inner bark of trees, and with this outfit the men proposed to capture some half-grown elephant
Ear/y Experiences 2>S
from the herd, and bring it to the village to be trained for use and subsequent sale.
Leaving one man on each elephant, the other two commenced searching the soft soil for fresh tracks, and after a few minutes started away at a quick walk, followed at a distance by their companions. For miles they proceeded in a series of twists and turns, passing as they went evidence of the grazing of the herd in broken branches, uprooted grasses, and overturned bamboos, and it was not until they were within a hundred yards of the elephants that they halted to reconnoitre the orround and to as- certain if any of the animals were of size suitable for their purpose. A decision seemed soon to be arrived at, and, the trackers mounting, the tame elephants were urged in the direction of a half- grown animal which stood on the outskirts of the tree forest. Little suspecting the attempt to be made on his liberty, the victim moved away as the intruders approached him ; he was nervous but not apprehensive ; but on being
36
The Life of an Rlephant
followed and disturbed time after time he became alarmed, and commenced to run through the forest to shake off his pursuers. They followed with the ease of animals who were in hard training through years of labour and scanty food ; in- crease the speed as he would they were still pressing on him ; if he threatened to charge they evaded him to right and left, only to close up again behind him ; and so, separated from the herd, with terror in his heart and trembling with exhaustion and thirst, he still plodded along in front, with the hunt inexorably follow- ing his footsteps, permitting no halt to rest or drink, but
persistently keeping him on the move through long hours. Atlast despair took possession of
u
Early Experiences 37
the hunted ; he turned and stood silent in the shade of a large tree, indifferent to a fate he felt powerless to escape from.
The hunters approached softly on either side of him, and in silence allowed the hunting elephants to caress the captive and soothe his fears ; he made no response, either of anger or impatience, till the ropes were secured round his neck and he was invited to proceed with his captors. Then once more, when too late, he made an effort for freedom, rushing wildly to (every side, to be checked each time by the ropes attached to the elephants, finally throw- ing himself on the ground and lying there immovable, irresponsive to the pricks of sharp knives, to shouts and exhortations, not yielding till the last weapon of man, in the shape of a burning torch of dried grass, was brought close to his body. Then with instinctive dread he rose suddenly to his feet and dragged his captors away with him in hasty flight, till, breathless, he again surrendered and moved quietly in whichever direction the party proceeded.
38 The Litfe of a?i Rlephant
They had no wish to meet the startled herd, least of all to come within reach of the herd-bull, who might annihilate without difficulty the whole of the encumbered procession. By devious routes, carefully prospecting the ground, they arrived at the footpath leading to the village, and in single file and in silence proceeded on their way. It was sunset by the time they entered the gate, and, passing up the main street, arrived at a curious caoe-like construction whose wide- eaved roof rested on stout piles strengthened by cross beams. Into this they persuaded their captive to enter, using force when he pro- posed to resist, and behind him were dropped two cross beams, so that he stood as in a narrow horse box, barely longer than his length or broader than his width, where there was no chance of exerting his strength for escape, and where he would remain, the observed of the village, the plaything of the children, until such time as he became accustomed to the sight of man, patient under handling and docile to the word of command. Now water was o-iven him to drink, fodder was placed within reach, the
Early Experiences 39
rough ropes were slackened from his neck, and he was left in peace to recover his nerve and temper during the hours of darkness.
Meanwhile the herd of elephants, and with them the young calf and his mother, disturbed by the intrusion of man, uneasy as if some unknown danger had been near them, gathered together for safety ; the young sheltered behind their bulkier companions, all testing the air to learn from which side this danger threatened. It was only gradually that their misgivings were removed and that they recommenced grazing, though still nervously. As night fell, however, at some silent sional from an old and experienced female, they set out on the march, and in single file moved quietly away from their recent halting place. The line was not unbroken, for the calves frequently fell out ; theirs was the difficult task of stepping between the footmarks of the longer-paced adults, and they were easily fatigued by the roughness of the road. So that, while the mothers lingered to encourage and assist their young, the main herd gradually disappeared from view, not to
40 The Liife of an Rlephant
be again rejoined till some hours had elapsed. The herd-bull remained for some time behind the retreating elephants, as if to show his independence of his harem : but ulti- mately he too sauntered in the same direction, careless as to any possible danger of attack, but most careful in every stride that his vast weight should rest on firm soil.
The young calf's training had now com- menced to fit him for the life which might, under favourable circumstances, extend over a century. At present he gave little promise of a ereat future. His soft wrinkled skin was covered with a rufous down, and his forehead with long black hair, the inheritance from primeval ancestors in the north ; his trunk was to grow with use, but was now small and short ; from his eyes glanced w^ickedness rather than ^.^_^^ serenity, and his shaggy eyelashes
^' ( gave them a guileful look which,
^^..,.^v^ indeed, was fully in accordance with his character. On the march he
Early Experiences 41
plodded along- methodically, his whole strength absorbed in the struggle not to be left behind ; but on halting days, when neither feeding nor sleeping, he was occupied in tricks which were far from sedate. To raise a sudden shriek of alarm, which would bring his mother red-hot with rage to his side, appeared to him to be a pleasant pastime ; to butt and harry the youngsters less strong than himself was also amusing ; and to filch some delicacy from another, even though he was yet unable to eat it, afforded him much pleasure.
Thus, during his calfhood and youth he was more or less privileged ; to his mother he clung till, after some years, others took his place ; to the herd he remained faithful because unable yet to fend for himself alone. He grew up in the fear of the herd-bull and with a wholesome respect for the young males, instinctively aware that the thrust of a sharp tusk was extremely painful, and might be fatal ; ignorant of his own strength, but alert and quick, even agile when due consideration is given to his bulk and build. Perhaps the most difficult accomplishment was
42 The Life of a7t Rlephant
to acquire the ability to walk with ease and safety on precipitous ground, but even this was learnt with practice. A perpendicular bank, if un- yielding, even if only five feet high, remained always insurmountable, for he could not raise a hind-foot sufficiently to give a pur- chase in bringing his body to follow trunk and fore-feet. But if the soil could be broken away the difficulty ceased to exist, for he would trample on the displaced and in a few seconds surmount the obstacle. To descend a steep, almost vertical slope he would break away the brink with his fore-feet and lower himself over the edge, then, bending his hind-legs, let himself go, leaving two deep furrows to mark his course. On the narrow ridges between the valleys he would walk with circumspection, lest a false step should mean death. Indeed, he had
ear
th
Early Experiences 43
himself been witness to such an accident, when, the soil giving way, his companion had been precipitated into the valley below ; at first grasping with outstretched trunk at bam- boos and saplings to stay her fall, and ulti- mately, as these were torn loose, as if refusing the assistance so urgendy required, lying a huddled and inert mass some seventy feet below.
He had learnt how to ford the forest streams, testing in advance each footstep lest he should chance on quicksands from which there was no escape ; to swim the rivers, rejoicing in his strength, sinking, to strike the firm bottom and to rebound thence to the surface, ploughing the current with only his trunk above the surface, like the conning pole of some submarine vessel. He had been taught where to seek the food supplies of the various seasons. He knew when the bamboo foliage was at its best, when the grasses were in flower, what barks, roots, and fruits were whole- some and where to find z^/i^^ » '■ them. He could detect
44 The Life of an Rlephant
the presence of water if close below the surface of the soil, and dig for it with his powerful fore- feet ; and, as to forest fires, with one wave of his trunk he could locate the danger and strike across the wind so as to avoid this terror.
All this and much more was known to him, and in self-defence against other jungle tribes, he was fully armed. His fore-foot, gently swinging as a pendulum till the accurately timed instant when it shot forth with prodigious force, could dispose of any dangerous intruder ; for the less important kind his trunk was ready to deal a shrewd blow just as easily as it could be used to blow away an objectionable insect or to oive the softest of caresses.
o
And so, as he increased in size, he increased in knowledge, became gradually more inde- pendent of his fellows, and was able to find a living for himself, though the love of company still kept him with the herd where he had lived for so long in happiness and safety.
CHAPTER IV
The Monarchs of the Herd
IN the forest, even among members of the same tribe, might is right, and those who cannot defend their place of pride must yield to those who dispute it. And in the struggle that thus goes on, one factor remains the most im- portant, and that is youth, with its uncalculated courage and irresistible endurance. The mon- arch of the herd may maintain peace in the community for a score of years, so long as he has no serious rival, but there is always a certainty that a stronger than he will arise one day and secure the supremacy. The leading bull of this herd, though some sixty or seventy years of age, was in no way failing in strength, in wisdom, or in beauty. True, in agility he was inferior to his rivals, and his heavy bulk imposed a severe strain upon his lasting
46
The Life of a?i Elepha72t
powers ; but up till now none had disputed his authority, none had dreamed of engaging in sinole combat with such a monster. Yet this happened at last without premeditation, as the result of passions suddenly roused, but, once kindled, not to be quenched save by a fight to a finish.
The leader of the herd, of which our elephant was still an insio-nificant member, was leaning- carelessly against a tree watching his subjects as they grazed around him. In the outskirts two other bull elephants were wandering list- lessly to and fro ; giving an impression as if they longed yet feared to approach. Presently the one, attracted irresistibly by his desire for company, walked slowly towards the females. The herd-bull, from his post of careless observation, at started to attention, and with ears extended strode towards the intruder, fully expecting to see him turn and fly, but in this instance the expected did not happen. The
once
The Monarchs of the Herd 47
herd-bull then, In passing, pushed the younger bull to one side : and instantly the latter turned and stood facing his lord and master with lowered head, with tightly curled trunk and shining tusks. This mutinous challenofe was not to be re- fused, and the animals met with a mighty shock, trunk to trunk, each pushing with full strength in the attempt to overthrow the other, or at least to make him swerve or flee, so that the conqueror's tusks might be imbedded in side or hind-quarters, and, in favourable circumstances, the goring be continued till life became extinct.
To turn or fly would therefore probably result in a painful wound, while to fall was practically a sentence of death. And thus these two animals which had hved peace- ably together for so many years were
48 The Life of an Elephant
forced to a duel, which in any case must separate them for the rest of their Hves. Neither had entered into it with zest, but, once begun, the instinct of self-preservation compelled its continuance ; while soon rage and fury swallowed up all other feelings, and all the brutality of animal life came into play. They pushed against each other in sullen silence, while the herd instinctively moved away lest they should experience the cruelty of the vanquished or the blind lust of the conqueror ; while the second bull gladly accompanied the females to enjoy, at least for a time, the unusual feeling of supremacy.
All through the tropical night the struggle proceeded with unabated fury. When the com- batants separated and stood apart, eager though each mioht have been to turn aside and leave the struggle undecided, self-preservation in- sisted that the face should be kept to the foe, so that once again they met with lowered heads, with trunks curled out of harm's way. The immense muscles on fore-legs and quarters stood out under the thick hides, and the tusks,
The Mo7iarchs of the Herd 49
weapons as yet useless in the fight, clashed together as the opponents met, their sharp points intiicting slight wounds on chest and shoulder, and from these blood slowly trickled, reddenino- the duellists, whose heated breath rose in mist in the air. There was an intoler- able scent from the bodies of these animals, perceptible even to the gross senses of human beings, and most peculiarly obnoxious to the other jungle tribes ; nor was there any friendly intervention to end the fight, as most usually occurs when deer, cattle, or even birds are eno-ao-ed in savao-e warfare.
In the morning the elephants presented a sorry sight ; the soft, black hides were en- crusted with blood and dust ; the roundness of body and limb had given place to the pro- minence of straining muscles, even the placid fulness of face and trunk was no longer evident ; the bones of the forehead stood out throuoh the tightened skin. The herd-bull was at his last gasp from fatigue, his adversary but in little better plight, but still sustained by the insist- ence of his hot-blooded youth. With a final
D
50 The Life of an Elephant
effort the herd-bull pushed the other backwards for several paces, then suddenly turned and fled.
He crashed into the thickest jungle he could find, the bamboos and elastic branches recover- ing their position as they swished violently in the face of the pursuer. The latter could gain no ground on the vanquished, and after a time stopped to scream with rage and vent his fury on unoffending saplings and trees in his vicinity. Then, bruised and battered, he made his way to overtake the herd. His triumph was not long- lived. In his haste he soon caught up his companions, and the females and young stood aside as he stormed
The Mo7iarchs of the Herd 5i
through their midst. He went straight towards the tusker with whom he had been brought up, his companion in long servitude under the now vanquished herd-bull, and without pretext, save that of fully roused passions, attacked him on the instant. The other received the shock without a tremor, and in the contact the lust of fio-htino- seemed to be communicated to him.
He pushed, and felt his already exhausted antagonist yield ground ; he redoubled his
efforts, and the enemy first gave way, then
suddenly slipped and fell. In a moment two
sharp tusks were
buried in his side ;
aeain and aoain till
the soil was reddened
and the victor stood
with uplifted trunk,
with crimson tusks,
and o^lared around
for any other adversary. There was none to
withstand him, and he entered into his kingdom
over the necks of his two defeated foes.
Meantime the vanquished herd-bull was
'The Ltfe of a7i Rlepha7it
recovering- his equanimity. He betook himself to the nearest stream and spent some hours in bathing, in lying in the water, in ^-^ cooling his heated blood. Then, l<W^-^\--s^_ spreading earth over his
_^^S^^^ ^^'OLinds to ward off the attacks of flies, he pro- ceeded to graze his way in the direction opposite to that taken by the herd.
Before following further the fortunes of our elephant it will be interesting to sketch shortly the life of this solitary tusker when driven from the herd and condemned to a life of loneliness. A long term of not unhappy years was before him. He possessed vast experience, and his wants were fully assured in the friendly forest. He could live a luxurious life, following tlie veo-etation in its seasonal chano'e ; browsinor on bamboos so loner as their foliao-e remained
o o
green, entering the swampy land in the summer heats, returnino" to the savannahs when the new grass appeared,
The Monarchs of the Herd 53
and at all times finding leaves, roots and fruits of various species adapted to his use during the season of their ripeness ; while astringent barks served to keep him in health during the trying- spring months. It was not often that he re- gretted his former o-reoarious life ; at times he felt lonely, and then, in evil temper, vented his rao^e on the trees around him. But these fits soon passed, and he proceeded on his placid way, harming no one, and content to be left to enjoy his own life.
Such was his lot during maturity, but as old age crept over him the difficulties increased, not of findino- but of utilizing the food which nature provided in such profusion around him. His tusks no lonoer crrew fast enouoh to re- place the wear and tear of forest life, they became worn and rough ; his teeth, too, could no longer crush the bamboo, the twigs and coarser grasses, so that the constant search for softer food became laborious. His forehead and trunk were now thickly mottled with white, and the edoes of his oTeat ears huno- in tatters ; the bones showed through the grey hide, and
54 The Life of an Elepha7it
the roundness of youth was no longer visible. He wandered ahiilessly through the forest, seeking those comforts which failing vitality alone denied him. And there were none of the jungle tribes who were able to relieve him from the burden of old age, and from a lingering death by gradual exhaustion from starvation, a fate which seemed certain to overtake him.
It was when in these straits that this aged bull commenced to live in the vicinity of the cultivated lands, and to rob the crops by night. But even this gave him but slight relief, for, once the villagers were alive to his predatory habits, they kept good watch and ward, and more often than not he was driven away long before he had satisfied his hunger. And so it fell out at last that in desperate mood he refused to fly from the yelling mob that threat- ened him, continuing to seize large bunches of ripening grain and stuff them greedily into his mouth, till the owners, gaining courage, approached so close that spears and arrows could be used with effect. Then the elephant
The Monarchs of the Herd 55
turned, smarting with pain, and headed for
the safety of the forest ; encountering on his
way a human being, he brushed
him aside in his hasty stride, and,
from the moment a man had been
killed, the fate of the animal was
decided.
Could he have known that he was proscribed it is probable that he would have welcomed relief from the oppres- sion of growing helplessness; for it is on record that one winter afternoon, when the sky was growing red in the west, and a great silence was creeping over the land, a hunter came on the fresh tracks of an elephant, and at once recognized from their size that he was on the trail of the outlaw. There was haste if the blood-money was to be earned ere darkness fell, but the trail was easy to follow, for the elephant was deliberately heading towards a favourite stand of his, where a pool of water olistened in the shade of hioh rocks, and the bamboo stood around in graceful groups. As the hunter crept along the track, and slowly
56
The Life of a7i Elepha7it
emerged in the more open space around die pool, he saw the elephant standing motionless,
and watching him more with curiosity than with fear or anger. The man realized that there was no immediate danger, that there was no necessity for hurried aim, and no excuse for bunolino- this execution. He raised his rifle slowly, and, as the head of the foresight passed the base of the trunk, the trigger was pressed, and the bullet sped upwards into the brain. The elephant sank to his knees without a sound; for an instant he seemed to be balanced in this attitude, then rolled over and lay on his side, dying with the calm dignity which had emphasized his life.
The villagers, who had known of him for two generations, and \\\\o asserted that he was in his prime when the oldest of them were vouno- believed that after a so lono- and harm- less life in this world of toil and trouble the
The ]V[o7ia7xhs of the He?^d 57
elephant would be re-incarnated on a much higher plane ; they even suggested, as if that were a reward, that his spirit might be born again as one of themselves, forgetting that they were under the subjection of labour from birth to death, while this elephant had tasted the joys of independence for nearly a century.
CHAPTER V
Captivity
THE change in the leadership of the herd made but Httle difference to our elephant, who led an uneventful life till, at the age of thirty, he was well advanced towards maturity. He then stood over eight feet high at the withers, and his tusks protruded some two feet from his lips. The animal was still growing in height and bulk, but was already formidable either for attack or defence. In short sprints on level ground no man could hope to escape him, and a horse would have to be remarkably quick in getting away to avoid his charge ; and, even after the first one hundred and fifty yards,
the elephant could maintain a good pace
Captivity 59
when hurried, though his usual gait was at about four miles to the hour. In fact, long continued speed was not necessary to his existence. If he charo-ed an enemy, either he cauo-ht and slew^ him, or the enemy decamped and thus ceased to be harmful ; if he himself fled on occasions of urgency, he had either avoided the danger, or was prepared to meet it calmly after a short distance had been traversed.
The difference between wild animals and those kept for show is perhaps never more pronounced than with the elephant. This one had a black, soft and pliant hide, warm to the touch, and so sensitive that it responded at once to the attack of a fly, while other insects, so powerfully armed as are the gad-flies, left drops of blood wherever they alighted. The grey coloured hides encrusted with dirt, such as are seen in the best managed Zoolooical Gardens in Europe, are evidently the con- sequence of the want of constant throwing of mud and dust on the body, to be subsequently washed away by forcible jets of water directed from the trunk, thereby creating the friction
6o The L^tfc of a7i EIep/ia7it
necessary to keep the hide clean and sensitive. So in India, even the domestic elephant is aided in such efforts towards cleanliness bv beino- bathed and scrubbed daily with a hard brick. How important it is to keep the skin healthy by regular friction is known to the breeders of domestic cattle, but has apparently escaped the notice of curators of Zoolooical Gardens, who but rarely provide any means by which their captives can follow the dictates of nature as regards this form of health preservation.
Another difference between the wild and con- fined elephant, is that the former possesses a roundness of head and body, referable to that full formation of muscle which apparently can only be attained by suitable and varied food sufficient exercise. The monotony of stale buns and of slow^ promenades on ravelled paths must soon reduce even the finest specimens of elephant life to creatures of no vitality of brain
Captivity 6i
or muscle, while in those born in captivity there can be little resemblance, save perhaps in the skeleton, to the animal bred and brought up in the forest. One must, therefore, picture to one's self an alert and by no means clumsy beast ; neither indolent nor greedy ; fully equipped to support himself in a country where dangers are not infrequent ; knowing how to ascend and descend the steepest mountain passes ; able to ford the treacherous streams in safety, to swim for miles if necessary in the flooded rivers ; and withal endowed with senses of sioht and scent that could forewarn him in time to escape approaching dangers, whether threatened by man or by nature. With these qualities, combined with enormous strength, it was well that the elephant was favoured with a calmness of temper and with a kindliness of disposition which prevented him from usino- his forces for evil.
As a rule the elephant began his day, as animals will, at sunset, when he moved towards water to bathe and drink. This hour of en- joyment was marked by cries of pleasure from
62 The Life of a7i Rlepha77t
the adults, who seemed to enjoy making the forest re-echo with their trumpeting. Then could be heard also the shrill voices of the young calves and the contented purring of the mothers,
culminatino- in blows on earth or w^ater with the trunk. They stood knee-deep, throwing water over their bodies, or, if there was depth enough, swimmino- and divino- in the stream or lake ; then when huno-er called thev either came ashore wet and shiny, or struck out for the opposite bank, the mothers encouraging the young calves or aidino- them with their trunks. The secrets
Captivity 63
of the earth, air and water were theirs. With one tap of the trunk they passed without pausing- if the foothold were sound, or stopped short to avoid some danger imperceptible to man ; they knew in the same way if the sand beneath the water was firm or treacherous, if the current was too swift to allow of safe passage ; and with one wave of the trunk they both detected danger and located it. And so it is that in times of flood or fire, or, worst of all, of earthquake, the distress of these animals, should they be prevented from utilizing their powers for escape, is so marked as to be almost pathetic.
The herd in which our elephant still found himself consisted of individuals all more or less experienced, all amply endowed by nature with the means to pass a happy and long life, but each differino- in streno-th and in characteristics as much as is found to be the case in com- munities of human beings. Only, amongst the elephants, there was blind confidence in one leader, for the reason that discussion and fore- thought were denied them. It was a republic
64
The. Life of a7i Rlephaiit
in which unreserved obedience was given to the wisest : and amongst the forest tribes the wisest is eenerallv of the weaker sex ; for that sex, because of its weakness, becomes of necessity the best quaHfied by nature to detect a coming danger, and to devise means of escape. The herd had been grazing in one part of the country for some time ; food and water were plentiful, and, though they more than once started on the march to new ground, yet they had somewhat listlessly given up the attempt on finding human beings busy in their path. In fact, though they did not know it, they were surrounded by a w^icle circle of men, whose endeavour was to keep them within certain boundaries. The broad valley was shut in by precipitous hills, through which were only two easy passages marking the inlet and outflow of a stream, and these passages were well guarded by men armed with guns, who, moreover, kept fires blazing night and day.
Captivity 65
Other watchers were on the slopes of the hills, ready at all times to dispute a passage in that direction,
and within this ^ ^ ^^^J^^^^f^^jjv^
circumference the elephants lived unmolested while a stout stockade, approached through wide wings which spread V-shaped into the forest, was being constructed in all haste. Work was pressed on day and night lest the herd, now becoming uneasy, should attempt to force a passage ere the arrangements were complete ; but at last all was ready and the order was given that to- morrow the herd was to be driven to captivity. The morninor shone briorht and clear over the forest ; it was a season when nights were cold and the days hot ; when the vegetation was preparing for the coming drought, the deciduous trees sheddinof their leaves, the everorreens showing a more brilliant foliage as if rejoicing in their superiority over the seasons. Looking down on the valley, there seemed no sign of
E
66 The Life of an Rlephaiit
man or beast, even the columns of smoke which for weeks had marked the position of the passes into the valley were no longer visible ; the forest was wrapped in silence. Suddenly, fired from far away, the report of a gun echoed through the hills, and simultaneously a roar of sound arose, shouts, beating of drums and firing of guns, as some hundreds of men descended from the hillsides and converged on the pass leading out of the valley. The elephants gathered in a body and followed the old female, who at once took command ; they moved slowly in front of the gathering crowd, at first not doubting that it might be avoided ; then, as the circle con- stricted, they suddenly realized that they were being driven, and, with the instinct of all w^ild animals, endeavoured to make a way of escape to one side. They pushed up the slopes of the hill at a quick walk, trunks waving and tails whipping from side to side, and were suddenly confronted with a volley of blank
Captivity
cartridges fired in their faces, with shouts and
with fire-brands. In the suddenness of this
attack, all courage and dignity vanished, and in
a disordered mass, with curled trunks and tails
raised hiorh above their <_>
backs, they fied, helter- skelter down the hill, and entering the valley, once more found them- selves with men behind, and on each side, and with but one apparent way of escape open to them.
Along that way they proceeded, no longer cautious of sudden danger, unnerved by their terrifying experience, each eager to be foremost in the flight, till the path narrowed, and they discovered on each side of them not many yards distant, rows of stout piles with interlaced tree trunks, held together with climbers and ropes of fibre, which told of the work of man, and warned them of the loss of liberty or life. They halted in indecision, and at that moment pandemonium seemed to be again let loose close behind them ; guns were fired, crackers
68 The Life of a7Z F.lepha7tt
exploded, burning torches were flung, and the shouts of men and the booming of drums became unbearable. The elephants pressed forward in a wild attempt at escape, and forced themselves through the narrow gateway.
There was here no space to receive this torrent of frightened animals, and so it was that the herd-bull was left outside, and attacked the palisade with the fury born of fear. It gave way to
iLl'-Mj> J^^^-' he rushed through,
of those who had, like him, been delayed at the fatal gateway ; and at the same moment the ropes holding up the huge portcullis were cut, and the way to freedom, for the rest of the herd, was barred. Then it was that scores of men arrived to hurriedly strengthen the stockade, and to prevent any systematic attempt at its destruction ; firing with blank cartridges at any elephant which crossed the boundary ditch with the object of tearing down
Captivity
69
the fence, repulsing- with spear thrusts the more venturesome who were not overawed with threats ; and then, too, it was that the great men of the earth, from the secure advantage of towers built into strong trees, could watch the captives, as they moved restlessly to and fro, avoiding each other, as if ashamed of their predicament, and looking with wondering and terrified eyes on the antics of their captors.
CHAPTER VI
hi T7^ai72ing for JVo7^k
THERE were some twenty-five captives in the enclosure, of whom our elephant was the laro-est : and it was well for him that he made no determined efforts to escape, for in order to avoid any risk of loss of the catch, his life would have been sacrificed at once ; a well-directed bullet at close quarters would
have ended his history. But, with the patient equanimity of his kind, when faced with un- avoidable misfortunes, he remained placidly standino- awaitino- his fate. In a few hours most of the captives grew accustomed to the sight and scent of human beings ; they raised no objections when men seated on tame
/;/ Trai7img for Work 71
elephants moved amongst them ; they even submitted when, huddled between two trained animals, ropes were passed over their necks ; and, most dangerous task to those so employed, when other ropes were secured to their hind- legs. Thus, one by one, they were led out through the narrow doorway in the direction of the camp, to be tied to stout trees by the heel ropes. Against these bonds they strained with all their weight, desisting only when the ropes cut deep into the flesh and imprinted on them the brand of slavery, always to be found on an elephant if born and bred in the forest
and then captured and trained to the service
of man. The very young calves followed the
females as they were led ^.
from the enclosure, but in
many cases their mothers no
longer recognized them, and
resented their approach.
Whether this was because
their young were tainted
with the scent of man, whether the terror
or
T'he Life of a?! Elepha7tt
and anxiety of the pursuit and capture had stayed the flow of milk and so destroyed the maternal instincts, it is difficult to assert. At all events the calves wandered round the fettered elephants, finding scant encouragement, save from men who fed them with buffalo milk, hoping to keep them alive, or from the tame
elephants, which treated them with kindness and affection, so that, if not quite dependent on a nursery diet, there was good chance of their survival.
Our elephant remained the last to be re- moved from the enclosure, and while there, he had been constantly attended by two tame elephants, who gently frustrated any attempt at restiveness. When the ropes had been
In Training for Work jT)
attached to neck and leg, an imposing array of tame elephants was ready to overcome any re- sistance. He made none, but walked silently to his allotted place, where he was left to himself. Even then there was no unseemly struo-o-le. He tested his weight against the strength of his fetters with one long, even pull, till the blood spurted from the wounds ; the ropes held firm, and he made no subsequent attempt, suffering himself to be led to water mornino- and evenino- eating the food provided for him with an aloofness which made mere man seem insio-nificant. For weeks before it was con- sidered safe for him to take the road, he was, in reality, just as indifferent to his fate as on the day they started to leave for ever the forests he knew so well.
First the long weary march in chains, and then the months of training which followed, seemed to rob him of all the joy of living and alter, with altered habits, many of his natural characteristics. His patience remained, but it
74
The Life of a7^ Elepha72t
was the patience of despair, and though he still deeply resented Ill-treatment, he became
obedient to the wishes of his masters so far as he under- stood them. The first lesson was that he should kneel at command, so that the pigmies who owned him should be able the more readily to climb on his back ; the next, that he should lie on his side, so that he might be duly cleaned by his attendant ; then that he should follow when led by the ear, and turn to right and left, or halt when ordered to do so. Finally, that all these movements should be carried out under the orders of a man seated on his neck, who emphasized his com- mands with a goad or with a pointed iron hook. During the whole of this schoollna- the shackles were never off the fore-feet, or the
I72 T'raini7i,g for IVork 75
tetherino- chain from the hind-leo", and it was only when he had earned a name for docility that these restrictions were removed, and he found his limbs free once more, though still, on either side, a tame elephant accompanied him for fear of a sudden outbreak of fury.
And so at last he was ready for work, and was sold into slavery to the first comer who coulci command his price : his only safeguards against cruel treatment being the capital in- vested in his purchase, and the fear of his vengeance should his attendants purposely annoy him.
First, then, he was called upon to work his own passage from the forest to the timber yard, where ultimately he was to be employed in mov- ing and arranging the heaviest logs ; and this trip of some five hundred miles took nearly two years to complete. He would be har- nessed to a log, and by brute strength drao- it throuo^h the soft soil to the banks
76 The l^ife of a7i Rlepha72t
of a neighbouring stream ; then, turning, roll it over till it lay in the waterway, to be carried down by the next flood. During the whole of the dry season he was thus employed from dawn till dark, spending his nights in the forest, tethered by a heavy chain, to pick up what subsistence he might find. When the monsoon began to blow, the dragging came to an end, and his duty was to push each stranded log into the current ; or, more dangerous still, to release a jam that blocked up the waterway. This labour was not so incessantly strenuous as the dry season dragging, and more opportunities occurred of grazing during the day. He had next to aid in the construction of the hus^e rafts which were to float away in the sluggish current, and for this purpose some quiet backwater was selected, each log being guided into place and firmly secured by ropes of cane, first through the draof holes at either end and then to cross- bars lashed with the same material. When com- plete, the raft might be sixty yards or more in length ; it undulated with the waves of the river, or lay like some gigantic marine creature just
In 'Trat72mg J^or W^ork jj
awash. The men who proposed to guide it in its course of hundreds of miles appear pigmies as they pressed against the huge sweeps which serve as rudders at either end, or attempted to avoid sandbanks bv the aid of lone bam- boos. In practice, they could do litde to in- fluence the course of the raft : should it oround badly in a falling stream they were powerless to relaunch it, and if a storm arose and lashed the broad waterway into foam, they thought only of seeking safety on the nearest firm land they could find.
In such times of stress assistance from others could not be reckoned on, for the river banks were infested with pirates whose livelihood was gained by stealing timber in transit to the sea coast. These men would cut the lashines of the raft as it lay alongside the bank in calm weather, and then follow the sinele loos as they floated away, and tow them into hiding before morning. But in times of stress their opportunities were still greater, for with luck they might overpower the crew and disperse several hundred logs over the waterway where
7^ The Life of a7i Klephaiit
they were at the mercy of all the predatory bands In the neio-hbourhood. It was but a small number of such loos that the owner retrieved. All had the ownership marks at once removed, some were burled deep In the sand, to be recovered at some convenient occasion, others were hurriedly sawn up in concealed saw-pits, so that identification became even more difficult.
On the way down stream other rafts were encountered, made up of thousands of bamboos which fioated more buoyantly than the timber ; so that on these thatched cottages could be erected, and children played joyously in the railed-in decks. In the centre of these floating villages were mounds of rice, covered with bamboo matting, the harvest from villages far away in the north, Its ultimate destination first the husking mills of Rangoon, and then the markets of Europe and England.
After the rafts had been despatched, there followed for our elephant a period of com- parative rest from labour till the monotonous march to the timber depot was completed ; but during those two strenuous years he had become
In Training fo?^ Work 79
thoroughly accustomed to the presence of man, and tolerated, but did not love him. The elephant was still regarded as a slave, for whom the lash was ready as a punishment, but to whom no reward was offered as an incentive to greater exertions. The other elephants with whom he was associated provided him with no interests ; he could not respond to their advances made with caressing trunk or with loud purrings ; truth to say, he w^anted nothing but food and sleep after a hard day's work, for he was still growing both in height and bulk, and his masters seemed to have but small idea of his requirements in food and rest. In the short hours allotted to him for feeding and sleeping he was obliged to swallow hastily whatever came within reach, instead of, as in the days of freedom, taking time to select, cleanse, and carefully masticate every mouthful. Often his tethering chain prevented him from reaching a convenient bathing place, and thus frequently he was recalled to another day's work unre- freshed by bathing or sleep, and with unsatisfied huno-er.
So
The Life of a7i Elephant
It was rather a gaunt elephant which ulti- mately reached the timber yard, and viewed the broad estuary and inhaled the scent of the sea air. To him at first all was repugnant, the brackish water, the slimy mud, the fodder impregnated with brine from the salt breezes; but here, as before, he adapted himself to his surroundings, but in reality possessed no one thing that made life enjoyable to him. His work, too, was the more arduous that it had to be accomplished under the burning sun. For the elephant is parti- cularly sensitive to heat ; when wild, he rarely moves when the sun is hot, but stands in the deepest shade available, and often seeks further protection by piling grass on head and neck, and throwing earth over his body. Those human beings who have lived in intimacy amongst this forest tribe will truly relate, how at times they have unwittingly approached
In Trainiftg for IVork 8t
close to an elephant thus concealed, and have fled in cold terror when a movement of a grass-covered mound disclosed the presence of a hidden danger.
Here in the timber yard were creeks of shiny mud, which the tide filled with foul water ; into these creeks the logs, detached from the timber rafts, were floated at high water, and later were dragged by the elephant on to firmer soil. A broad breast-plate, ending on either side with a chain, was all his harness and, struors'lino- and slipping in the slime, he did his best to satisfy his masters. From time to time, especially as the tide ebbed, he was forced to enter the creeks and work in five or six feet of mud and water, so that he could not do justice to his weight and strength. Once the logs were on firm ground his next duty was to arrange them in rows as ordered by his driver. The smaller logs he would lift bodily with his tusks,
F
82 The l^tfe of a7t Elephant
carrying them where required with the aid of his trunk ; those too heavy to carry he would roll along" the ground or, raising first one end, and then the other, bring them ultimately to the desired position. The elephant presented
a sorry sight when his day's w^ork was done ; he was then covered with black river-mud, and felt weary and indifferent to his surroundings, being- sore from the chafing of his rough harness, and irritated by the scolding and ill-temper of his driver. Durinof the ni^ht he stood under a shed, chained to a post, and ate what was put before him and what remained over from his rations after the rapacity of his driver had been satisfied. There is no need to dwell on this monotonous and weary time, for this elephant came through it with his life, though many of his companions had succumbed, from sunstroke, from internal strains, from sudden
In "Training for Work 83
unknown sickness ; yet it seems but justice that in these days when sentimentaHty is rife, some comparison should be suggested between the treatment of a criminal, who perhaps has been for years a terror to his fellow-men. and that meted out to an animal which has done no harm ; and that the attitude of either to- wards their gaolers may be noted when condemned to loss of liberty and to penal servitude. Perhaps, if a useful life is to be commended, an animal may show to advantage over many human beings.
Mention has been made of sudden unknown sickness, and it may be remarked that cases of poisoning of elephants, even by their own mahouts, are not of such rarity as to cause surprise. Nothing is easier than to administer a fatal dose to an animal which places such implicit trust in man ; arsenic concealed in a banana is readily swallowed, and proof of the crime is difficult. A mahout who had abused his authority, and went in consequence in fear of his life, has been known to take this way of escape ; while another, jealous of the promotion
84 The Life of a7i Rlephant
of a fellow-servant, adopted this means of oettino- him into trouble. It will be recalled that some wild animals will refuse, when in confinement, to eat from the hand of their keeper, even when on affectionate terms with him. The wild dog, especially, insists on this suspicious attitude, and it is also sometimes assumed by monkeys. An old Langur monkey, which had been in confinement for years, would to the last insist on washing any food handed to her, with a view to removing the disagree- able scent of the human hand. This animal was extremely fond of loaf sugar, and would chatter with rage as each lump disappeared under the cleansing to which she subjected it, leaving no trace, save in sticky paws, which were greedily sucked. But the elephant, though refusing distasteful food, may sometimes be persuaded to swallow it, though at others he will close the argument by dropping it from his mouth and covering it with a massive fore-foot.
The end came at last, when a broker from India saw the elephant toiling wearily in the
In Training for Work 85
timber yard, admired his shape, noted his youth, and decided that here was an animal which, with proper care, was suited for a better fate than that of a Hving traction-engine ; and that a profit could be made if it were possible to purchase at a reasonable price. Hence it was that, one breezy morning when the tide was running up against the wind, and the muddy water of the estuary was white with breaking wavelets, the elephant was stripped of his harness and led down to a wharf over- looking the wider stream. All around him were men bustlino- and shoutino- rollino- or carrying bales into the ship which lay alongside, and after some hours of waitinor strono- broad girths were fastened round his body, there was a clanking of machinery, and the elephant felt himself lifted from his feet and swaying in mid-air. The sensation was terrifying, and never before had he felt so helpless ; he waved his trunk in all directions in the hope of finding some firm hold for it, but without success ; then he felt himself being lowered till his feet touched the main-deck below, and here, once
86
The Life of an Elephant
more confined, he listened to the soothing words of his new owner.
The next few days he passed in miserable anxiety, for to an animal of this bulk there can be no peace on swaying and heaving decks,
which he imagined were unable to carry his weight ; but even this trial came to an end, and at last the ship moved on an even keel against the stream of a broad river. On either side, the banks, raised only a few feet above the tide, were covered with rice-fields or grass-lands which stretched away to the horizon, without
In Training for Work 87
a break in the dull monotony of the landscape. Between them the muddy stream flowed, treacherous and uninvitino- ; the shallows marked with white breakers, with whirlpools forming at the tail of the hidden sandbanks. In the distance was a haze of smoke, and as the ship proceeded, feeling her way amongst currents and shoals, the signs of human beings became more in evidence in the whirring of machinery, the clanging of hammers, and the smoke from furnaces, till at length they came to rest on the crowded and busy waters. Such was the entry to the City of Palaces, a title surely appropriated by those who knew not of the real palaces in marble and stone, erected by the in- habitants of the country who possessed clearer conceptions of truth and art. Here the brick buildings were faced with stucco ; they stood four-square on the few feet of firm soil that overlay morass and quicksand, with square porticoes, square windows, and square rooms, and with only one oriental attribute, and that tending to accentuate the bad taste of the west ; namely, that servants, whether man or
88 The Life of an Elephant
beast, were lodged in the closest proximity to those who enjoyed residence in these buildings, palatial only in their size.
Slung from the ship like any bale of goods, our elephant found himself standing on the jetty at dead of night, suffering still from the effects of the sea voyage, reeling slightly as he walked. He passed through the sleeping town, where the daylight traffic was too congested to allow the risk of frightening horses and bullocks, and set his face to the north-west on his long march up-country to the market where he was to be sold. As he followed the broad road with its avenues hundreds of miles in length, he passed into a cooler and drier atmosphere at each march. Strolling twenty to thirty miles each day during the freshness of the early morning and late evening, fed and looked after with every care, he found life for the next month or two pleasanter than he had ex- perienced since his capture. The countries he passed through were different in all respects to those in which the elephant's youth had been passed. There the forest was supreme,
In Traini7tg for Work 89
and scattered villages nesded in its folds ; here the land was populated and cultivated. One left a village only to enter another, each with its groves of palms, bamboos and mangroves; each with its water-tank which served as bathing place to man and beast ; each with its shallow well and its' small and tawdry temple. There were no monasteries built of dark-toned timbers heavily carved, and no sound of sonorous gongs and tinkling bells. Of waste lands and jungles there were few, and men were everywhere, not armed and alert, but residing in open villages, seemingly with no fear of man or beast, incessandy talking and incessantly eating food of strange savour. And yet, in spite of this easy existence, there was litde joyousness in the land, no bright- ness of colour or daintiness in the dresses, and more scolding and quarrelling in a day than would be heard in a month in the Further East.
Yet, in spite of these differences, which, indeed, affected the elephant but litde; he passed his days in contentment, regained some
90 The Life of a?t Elephant
of his vigour, and arrived at his destination handsome and healthy to await with good humour any further adventures that might befall him.
CHAPTER VII
A Change of Masters
TH E site of the fair was on a broad expanse of white sand alongsthe bank of a river flowing with clear and strong waters to the east. There was room for thousands of human beinos, as well as for the hundreds of animals who were made the pretext for this gathering. On the far side of the river, the forest stretched away over the broken hills ; on the other, the view was obstructed by precipices of gravel and sandstone, in whose crevices a scanty vegetation found shelter. Along the edge of the stream, under the overhanging rocks, were crowded temples, bathing ghats, and pilgrims' rest- houses, and amongst these, at every turn, sat the members of an hereditary priesthood at the receipt of custom, confident of an easy here- after, while making every arrangement for a
92
The Life of an Fjlephant
luxurious present. Here, too, the pilgrims, weary and sore-footed, offered adoration in the dark temples, entered the sacred pools where great fish jostled amongst the bathers, sub- mitted to the loss of cherished locks by the barbers' razors, and then, clean from all im- purities of body and soul, paid largesse to the priests and started on the homeward journey, laboriously bearing jars of sacred water for use in the rites and ceremonies of domestic wor- ship. In one way this water was miraculous, for it appeared never to diminish in quantity, either by evaporation or even by sale on the lengthy march.
On the sand thousands of human beings were encamped in the open, some sheltered behind flimsy screens of grass, others, more
wealthy, under tattered huts, but the majority without shelter of any kind. During the day they roamed
A C/ia7ige of Masters
93
'miypmiiW
itimMk.
through the fair, visiting the side-shows, staring at the religious mendicants now in full costume of skins and paint, or passing remarks on the animals exposed for sale. As the night drew on, thousands of tiny fires sparkled in the darkness, and were reflected in the broad waterway as each little encampment prepared the evening meal, and then sank to rest after the excitement of the past hours. For most of these visitors were men who rarely left their distant villages, to whom all was novel ; even the sio-ht of clear
water flowing over boulders aroused their curiosity, accustomed as they were to the murky floods and sandbanks of the rivers of the country of the plains.
On the army of parasites who, with well- advertised claims to sanctity and to charity, swarmed over the fair, they looked with mixed feelings. They might revere the village priest
twmmuiim
r/j^.
r/Z/V fw.
94 The Liife of a7t Rlephant
who stood sponsor at the introduction into caste and manhood, who assisted at their marriage and funeral rites ; but here were men who, at least outwardly, abjured all companionship, and who purposely crippled their own bodies so that, while becoming a burden in the community, they might save their own souls. Covered with ashes and vermin, and often of the most revolting habits, they commanded fees even if they inspired no respect. A fierce glance from under shaggy eyebrows or a muttered curse was sufficient to compel a hurried obeisance and a gift of hard-earned pence from the simple villagers as they passed by.
Much more exciting was it when several hundreds of these miscreants, forming procession, and with frenzied cries on their gods leaped into the swiftly flowing waters of the sacred river ; for then followed the strange spectacle of men, white and black, risking their lives to save those who deliberately sought a quick road to Paradise, but who had lost all ardour at the unwonted contact with cold pure water. The unsophisticated onlookers, inhabitants of a
A Change of Masters 95
country where life on earth is held, in reality, to be merely one stage of existence, may well have regarded such interference as unpardon- able ; but they expressed no opinion, and wandered on in the hope of witnessing other soul-stirring incidents whose recital would while away the long evenings in the distant village.
Along the lines of tethered elephants a man came sauntering, inspecting the animals with a well assumed air of indifference. He was slight and thin, with legs widely bowed, and was clad in white cotton, with an embroidered cap on his well-combed hair. His dress, his short, curly beard, and his speech as he passed the time of day with the attendants on the animals exposed for sale, proclaimed him to be a Mussulman from the north. He glanced shrewdly at our elephant, but continued without halting on his way, and it was not until an hour or so later that he returned, greeted the owner and accepted the lono: snake-like tube of the hookah when handed to him.
Kareem was the descendant of a long line of " Mahouts," men who, in the service of the state
96 The Ljife of a7i Rlephant
or of rajahs, had spent their Hves in the charge of elephants and, dying, bequeathed their know- ledo^e and their duties to their sons. Such men formed a clan, almost a race apart, now fast dying out under the pressure of veterinary science from the west— men who possessed special knowledge of the habits and manners of this forest tribe, who had accumulated vast stores of legendary and practical information as to their treatment in disease or health, and who could judge at a glance of the good and bad points of an elephant, and decide instantly as to the temperament of each individual, and whether it was trustworthy or dangerous ; who had even invented a special language for freer intercourse with the animals they lived with. To these men the elephant seems to give a special allegiance, and often a most marked affection.
Kareem was no better or worse than those of his class. He would treat those he respected or loved, whether master or elephant, with fidelity ; he was courageous, hot-tempered, and, in physique, well suited to his profession. To
A Change of Masters 97
place on the neck of an elephant a driver of the figure of a well-fed family coachman would be impossible, not only on account of the depressing weight to be carried, but because agility is required to mount to the saddle by aid of trunk and tusk, or to scramble up from behind, by the help of the crupper ropes. At the present time this mahout was with his master on the look-out for a good "shikari" elephant ; one which, while docile, would be courageous ; young enough to be agile, and tall enough to force a way through dense forest, or seas of grass, in pursuit of game.
Thus, after he had spent some time in belitt- ling the elephant, and had received from his owner the incontrovertible reply that the animal was "as God had made him," he rose to his feet and approached the elephant without fear, stroked his trunk, tickled him under the jaw, offered him a banana from his pocket, and then proceeded to examine him thoroughly. First the eyes, which were in colour hazel, bright and clear, without speck or film ; then the inside of the mouth, which was pink and healthy ; next
98 The Life of an Elephant
the nails and soles of the feet, to detect any wound or scar ; finally climbing on his back and searching for old scars, knowing that harness galls, though healed, have a way of breaking out, especially in the moisture of the rainy season. He found nothinof amiss, thouQfh he continued to pretend to be dissatisfied, and then, with the final remark that the price was excessive, he retired.
Half an hour later Kareem stood in the door of a tent, and was speaking to a khaki-clad fiorure within. His lano-uao^e had altered con- siderably during this short time. " Sahib," he said, " there is a tusker standing in the fair who is fit for a king to ride now ; in the future, with good fortune, he will be perfection. In height he is six cubits, his head and trunk are massive, his back straight as a line, his tail almost touches the ground, and his feet and nails are as they should be. He has no scar or blemish, and as to docility, he allowed me to handle him freely, and we are already as brothers."
The subsequent haggling over price would be too tedious to follow, it is sufficient to say
A Change of Masters 99
that, a few days later, Kareem left the fair mounted on his ''brother's" back, ig-noring the admiration of passers-by, guiding- the new pur- chase with a little stick, instead of the heavy iron hook, and delighted with himself, with his master, and with all mankind. And to make the change from slavery to friendship the more complete, he called the elephant Maula Bux, which in our language is equal to Theodore, and^ addressed him, when using confidential language, as "my brother."
It might be supposed that Maula Bux would respond to this change in his circumstances ; for, of all the jungle tribes, perhaps the wild dog is the only one without any sense of gratitude, remaining suspicious in the face of any kindness, and, without remorse, biting the hand stretched forth to caress. The elephant found it good to be looked after day and night, to have it seen to that he was clean and well kept, that there were no wounds or scratches
TOO
The Life of a7i Rlepha7it
which mlorht be slow to heal if neolected ; and in return for such attention, he strove to carry out all that was required of him. He knelt, and submitted to have his forehead painted with fantastic coloured designs, he even per- mitted that his tusks should be shortened, though this was a serious trial to his temper. It was one day decided, as the elephant was no longer to be used for timber work, that his long and sharp tusks had become unnecessary, and might, indeed, restrict his use- fulness, and prove a danger to his companions. Maula Bux was requested to lie on his side, which he obediently did, his mahout then measured from eye to lip, and marking the same length on his tusks, pro- ceeded to saw off the ends of either, thus avoidinor the hollow and sensitive portion above the cut. When this operation was com- pleted, two thick brass rings, engraved and embossed, were slipped over the
A Change of Masters loi
ends of the tusks, and tightly wedged in place, and the elephant arose, shorn of a portion of his weapons for which he would have no use in the future, though still possessing implements of the greatest value to himself and his master. The last test of his obedience was, that he should carry lighted lamps on his tusks through the encampment, and this he did with a placidity which delighted his mahout, though inwardly the elephant was far from easy, and carefully kept his trunk out of harm's way.
There came a day when the stud of elephants was to proceed to the jungles, and there be allowed to graze during the winter and spring of the year. They set %^^y
out on their march in single file, *^,^'^-/^ each elephant carrying a load made up of his own fetters and cloth- ing, of his driver's and driver's assistant's kit, of a small tent for shelter for the men, and of a few days' rations, the whole amountino- to a weioht of some three to four hundred pounds. Under this light burden the elephants tramped gaily
I02 "The I^ife of a?z Elephant
along the road, their soft feet making- little noise, but raising a cloud of dust which passed away with the breeze. Where the path led through cultivated fields the travellers stretched out greedy- trunks to seize mouthfuls of young wheat or cane-sugar, until ordered to desist from robbery. When vil- lages were reached and the little naked children rushed out with cries of joy, the elephants went warily ; when the dogs barked, they curled up their trunks in alarm, as if they knew that in this country the chance of hydrophobia following on a bite was no imaginary danger. They regained the open country, carrying the spoils they had looted; some waving a bush whose yellow flowers had given promise of a heavy crop of lentils, another with a trunkful of grain snatched from the threshing floor ; and Maula Bux, per- haps most successful
i
'—^
A Change of Masters 103
of all, with a bundle of straw packed beneath each tusk, and a third held in his trunk for gradual consumption on the way.
As the winter afternoon drew on, there was the arrival in camp, where, under the shelter of the evergreen mango trees, loads were taken off, elephants tethered, fires lighted to cook the evening rations, while some elephants were de- spatched to bring in leaf fodder from fig trees, or long grass from the banks of stream or lake for the night's feed. Then, under the stars throughout the long night, men slept while the elephants fed and rested, lying down for two or three hours at the most in the early morning hours. When dawn came to light up the misty landscape, fires were again lit to cook the morning meal, the elephants were ridden to drink and bathe at the nearest water, their loads were readjusted and the easy march began once more.
I04 "The Life of a7i E,lepha7tt
It ended one day on the banks of a broad river, where a strong stream flowed some hundred of yards in width through a broad expanse of sand which marked the Hmit of the summer floods. Here the baggage was loaded into boats which crossed amid the shouting of the oarsmen, while the elephants first waded and then swam to the opposite shore. To some of these animals the occasion was one of joyful play. Their naked drivers stood erect, supporting themselves by a rope round the neck of the elephant. These reared high out of the water and wallowed back into the depths, disappearing from view like gigantic porpoises ; then returning to the sur- face, blowing out the air from curved trunks, screaming to each other in gaiety of heart, neglectful of the cries and abuse of the mahouts.
Others there were who feared to enter the current, standing with feet firmly set to the sand, refusing to move in spite of entreaties and chastisement. To such mutineers stronger persuasion was necessary ; their drivers dis- mounted and stood by them, and then it was
A Cha?tge of Masters
105
that the wisdom of shortening Maula Bux's tusks became apparent. He was told to ad- vance upon the stubborn elephants, and, when within three or four paces, to charge. His lowered forehead cauo-ht the first waverer full
^/ in the stern, and she pitched headlong into
the water, whence return was barred by threatening tusks. The choice now lay be- tween being butted into deep water or entermg it voluntarily, and the haste with which a decision was taken as the big tusker approached the next victim was almost ludicrous.
Last of all, Maula Bux himself entered the stream. There was some eight feet of strong- swirling water around him ere he lost his foot- hold, then, with powerful strokes he made his way across, standing in the shallows, curling
io6 The Life of a7i E,lepha77t
his trunk at the right angle to help his driver to the ground, throwing water over his body- till thoroughly cleansed, then again making a pathway for the mahout with curved trunk, and giving the final toss calculated with the utmost nicety to bring him well into his seat.
CHAPTER VIII ht "Training for Sport
CONTENTMENT in captivity was now the portion of the elephant Maula Bux, for by this time the uniform kindness he ex- perienced had deadened the longing for a wild life, and where there was no toil, there also the desire for liberty did not oppress him. Through- out the day he roamed through the forest, grazing as he went ; at times stopping to pluck some succulent grass or reed, at others breaking off the foliage of such trees as he desired ; gathering here a trunkful of bamboo, and there some fruit fallen in its ripeness. He was scarcely conscious that the mahout sat sleepily on his back, save when, forgetting, he threw dust over his body to keep off the flies, or proposed to pass under some bough, hardly hig^h enouo^h for the comfort of his rider. On
io8 The Life of a7i Klepha7it
such occasions he was reminded by a peremptory order In elephant language, intelligible to him- self and to the clan of mahouts, but conveying no meaning whatever to those outside this close corporation. As the afternoon wore on, he would find himself on the banks of river or lake and, wading In, would take a prolonged bath, emerolno- w^th soft, black skin, cleansed from all impurities, then stride away back to camp, knowing far too well to again soil himself with dust or mud and so provoke the displeasure of his driver.
Then followed the long, calm night, when the moon shone In misty brilliance over the forest, and the jungle tribes came out to feed and play. I'he elephant knew each one by sight or sound. When the tigress roared for her cubs to rejoin her, or the tiger growled w^ith rage after un- successful hunting the elephant understood what was In their thouo-hts. When the deer o-ave their alarm cry, the bell of sambhar, the w^hlstle of spotted deer, the baying of barking-deer were as if the difficulties and dano-ers of the jungle life were being related to him ; he stood
/;/ Trai7ting fo?^ Sport
109
unmoved when the wild dogs passed by in full pursuit of some luckless hind, and it was only when in the distance the screaming and purring of a herd of wild elephants startled the silence of the night that he tested the tethering chain, in the hope that he was free to join them. At the sound of the rattling links the mahout,
aroused at once by the cries of the distant herd, would come from his tent and speak to, and soothe his "brother," at the same time seeing that the fetters were firmly in place ; and then, with the happy ease of the uncivilized, who eat when hungry and sleep when weary, would sit down beside his charoe, smokinor his "hookah " and from time to time speaking in short sentences which required no reply.
In this way the weeks passed, and the elephants were all fat and well as summer approached. Then came a day when the grasslands were burnt, when water had ceased
no The Life of a7t Ekpha?2t
to be abundant, and when man, the hunter, was better able to come to terms with the forest tribes. The elephants were caparisoned for a shooting party in simple and workmanlike harness, and thus stood, some twenty strong, before the rows of white tents, awaiting the pleasure of the hunters. These came eager and interested in their mounts ; asking in- numerable questions as to the steadiness of each elephant, and its staunchness in danger. The drivers replied, each praising his own particular charge, save only Kareem, who was content to remark that Maula Bux had not taken part in the hunt before that day.
At the foot of a perpendicular bank, scored here and there with narrow ravines cut by the
monsoon storms, was a strip of glass so high that its flowering tops reached above the tallest elephant. It merged into the forest of '' shisham "
In Training for Sport
1 1 1
saplings that stretched away to where the river ran swiftly between smooth boulders, and at one end of this patch of jungle, which lay unburnt and green across the blackened plain, stood a line of elephants waiting the word of command to sweep through the cover and drive out every living thing. Maula Bux was not in this line of attack ; until he had been proved, it was not expedient that he should be in a position to disorganize the beat either by a show of cowardice or by a frenzy of rage. He had been sent by a circuitous route to the top of the cliff to guard the exits from the grass- land to the hills above, and stood, a few feet from the edge of the precipice, looking down on the dense cover below.
The line of elephants advanced, and as they came the jungle tribes retreated before them ;
1 1 2 The Life of a7i Elephant
the deer rushed out to one side, clattering over the stones and splashing through the water; the pigs dashed blindly for- ward or broke through the line, causing the more timid elephants
to scream with fear ; the black-partridges towered above the trees and soared away with outspread wings ; and the peafowl, running to the edge of the forest, sped away uttering frightened cries. The only sign of life remaining in front of the inexorable line of elephants was that some yards ahead the tops of the highest stalks of grass quivered as if slightly touched from below. The more experienced elephants raised their trunks, not to point in that direction, but to assure themselves by scent what this move- ment was ; the more experienced of the hunters laid hand on rifle and kept it ready for use. The line still came on, and in front of it the ?j grasses still nodded, when suddenly the still- ,'^^^^^-^^_ ness was broken by
nv:^5^^^^,^=^^^3^^:^.,.^ answerino-
In Trainiiig for Sport 113
roar from the hunted tiger. Unscathed, he bounded away in the direction of a narrow watercourse which seamed the face of the precipice, and the next instant Maula Bux was confronted by an angry tiger which appeared to have arisen from the ground at his feet. To the elephant, accustomed in wild life to due deference even from tigers, this was a startling occurrence ; but the thought of flight did not pass through his brain. Instantaneously, almost mechanically, he had swung out his fore-foot and felt the resistance of a heavy body. The tiger fell back- wards, and half slipping, half leaping, reached the foot of the precipice and dis- appeared in the heavy grass. From above it was easy to follow the subsequent events. Escape was impossible from the semicircle of elephants and from the hail of rifle bullets, and the tiger, fighting to the last, was soon over- powered.
From that day the elephant Maula Bux was
H
r^w
114 T*he Life of an Klephant
classed as a staunch shooting elephant, and was almost expected to do the impossible as well as the possible. He found it natural to defend himself, and even to act on the offensive if he were in danger from man or beast ; in such cases his courage and quick temper lent a zest to combat. But it was a different matter when in cold blood to advance upon a concealed tiger, savage with his wounds and awaiting only a favourable opportunity to tear and destroy. On these occasions he did advance, but it was only by order of his mahout or rider, to whom, through affection, he had given obedience ; and often he obeyed in spite of the refusal and even ignominious flight of others of his tribe, whose courage was not so high or training so efficacious, thereby proving that even the tendency, so marked in most animals, to follow a lead, had been overcome in his case. But what appeared to be most difficult to this elephant was, that he was permitted no partici- pation in the combat that so frequently followed. He could have understood if, when the tiger charged, he too might charge and slay his
In Training for Sport 1 1 5
opponent with tusk, or crush him underfoot ; but to stand without movement, trusting to his rider to stop the onslaught, was almost too much for his endurance. Indeed, on one occasion he had met his adversary with tusks held hori- zontally, and before the tiger could get his hold, had hurled him to the ground and stamped him to a pulp, only to be scolded, even chastised for following his own instincts and not reposing perfect confidence in his master. The elephant had witnessed some accidents happen in the early period of his hunting life ; he had seen a tiger, seemingly fixed to the head of a defence- less elephant, pulling it to earth or clinging to its hind-quarters, biting and scratching through some supreme seconds of satisfying vengeance. He was on such occasions always eager to rush into the fray, to force his blunted tusks through the attacker until his grip relaxed : but here also he was prevented from interfering, and by degrees became so obedient that even in moments of the greatest urgency he would await the word of command.
Thus he gradually attained to the highest pitch
ii6 The Life of a7t Elephant
of training, when he would stand absolutely still in the midst of confusion and uproar, advance or retreat without hesitation, in short, sacrifice his identity to his master, and become but a dirigible tower which could follow the jungle tribes into their fastnesses and attack them in places where man would be helpless before them.
From one indignity his size and value pre- served him. He was not made to carry home the spoils of the chase ; the intense repugnance
of wild herbivorous animals to blood and death is most marked in the elephant, and / it is a sore trial to them to be laden with the carcasses of the slain, to have their hides crimson with blood, to be followed by swarms of eager insects. And even when washed clean from the taint, the harness yet remains unpurified, and forever to these sensitive nostrils is
In Training for Sport 1 1 7
obnoxious. The smaller and less valuable of the stud were therefore used for this purpose, although the nervous and timid ones were not suitable. Such animals would at times be roused to frenzy by their own imagination ; they would use every endeavour to get rid of their burdens, and the disgusted sportsmen had to look on helpless, while a prized trophy was being dragged through the forest, or a foolish elephant, entangled in the ropes, would be executing a frantic dance on the most cherished spoils of the chase.
Fear and anger are the predominating passions of the forest tribes. Probably in most cases the former is the most engrossing, but its force may be overcome by pain, hunger, parental affection and similar feelings, and then rage takes command, and what is known as courage comes into play. In fact, therefore, the varying degrees of courage in wild animals, but marks the limit where rage becomes superior to fear. As with animals such as the hyena, no pain, hunger or affection would compass this end, we call the animal cowardly ; so with the tiger and
ii8 The Life of an Klephant
elephant, the transition is easily reached, and we call them courageous. Though there is among wild animals little of the calm, calculating courage we know as bravery in man, and though, when it occurs, it is most generally among the gentlest and most harmless of the forest tribes, yet that such bravery can be taught is evident. When a dog, a horse or an elephant can be induced to face danger at the word of command without the impetus of anger, it is surely proof of training of the very highest order.
CHAPTER IX
"The Kheddah
TH E broad valley lay silent in the dawn of a February morning, On every side the forest-clad hills encircled the landscape, brilliant with the tender green of the young foliage, accentuated here and there by masses of white blossom where some tree, more eager than its fellows, had prematurely responded to the call of spring. The scattered clumps of bamboo had lost the vivid colouring of the winter months, and their leaves showed a yellow tinge which told of the approaching heat. Through the valley a river flowed
I20 T^he Life of a7i Rlephaitt
noisily over the rounded pebbles ; its murmur rose and fell in obedience to some air-current hardly perceptible ; it was rather as if waves of sound followed one on another with rhythmic precision. The wide water-course of bleached stones and sand, which would be covered in the monsoon with a turbid torrent, now lay peaceful and solitary ; it was bounded by dense thickets of young trees, which gave place to grassy plains stretching up to the foot of the hills. From clefts in these flowed other minor streams with rippling waters eager to join the main river. On the grassy plains a few cattle and buffaloes wandered ; their deep-toned bells clanging as they moved.
As daylight appeared over the hills, and the
sun's rays struck in slanting lines on one side
of the valley, the other seemed to grow more
dark and indefinite. Some peafowl planed with
p-s extended wings from
i\ ^ - ^vpCtii. their lofty roosting
Vv^i__\t ^'-X^^'^ places to warm them-
N^ ^^ selves by the river's
brink ; the grazing
I
The Kheddah 121
deer drew off towards the shelter of the forest ; the vultures spread their wings to the day- light, but with no intention of quitting their perches to seek the cooler air of the higher altitudes till the sun was hot ; and lastly, man awoke and set about the business of the day.
It was some hours later when all was ready for the hunt, for here the purpose was not to drive a herd of wild elephants into a stockade, but to run them down in the open forest, to lasso them, and bring them captive to the camp. It was a more sporting proceeding, where the fate of the individual would be decided by the speed, endurance, cleverness and courage both of pursuer and pursued. When at last the hunters moved in single file from the deserted camp there were some forty elephants prepared for the task before them. On each were mounted two men ; the one sitting on the neck of his elephant, armed with heavy iron hook to urge and direct during the pursuit ; the other squatting over the crupper ropes, holding in his hand a short wooden club faced with iron spikes which acted as a spur in time of need. Between
122 The Life of a7t Elep/ia7it
these two men was neatly coiled a stout rope, of which the free end terminated in a slip-knot and the other was firmly secured to the elephant's girths. The party crossed the river and dis- appeared in a deep cleft between the hills; following a foot-track they undulated, still in sino'le file, towards a fixed ooal ; sometimes descending into steep ravines and laboriously climbing the further bank, at others proceeding cautiously along narrow ridges, where foothold for such ponderous animals as elephants seemed most precarious ; now passing through level tracts of dense tree forest, and ao^ain followino^ the winding: course of some mountain rivulet, till at last they halted at the invitation of a man who had evidently been awaiting their approach. There was a whispered consultation, and the march was resumed, until the hunters entered a narrow valley in the hills, and here in safe places were deposited those who came to see without risk, and those who were content with the excitement of witnessing the courage and dexterity of the hunters. Along the slopes of the valley a herd of wild elephants were moving
The Kheddah
123
uneasily to and fro. The silent approach of others of their kind was viewed without much alarm, save that the scent of human beings was repugnant to their sensitive nostrils. But as they wandered in indecision towards the further end of the valley, the air seemed suddenly to be
'H^i i[V
filled with the shouts of men, with the rushing of many elephants, and with the trampling of grass and the breaking of saplings. A panic seized the herd, and it fled in confusion with uplifted tails and curling trunks ; and the next moment the strangers were amongst them, each of the forty mahouts singling out a victim and devoting entire attention to its capture. Those
124 The Life of a7i Rlepha7tt
pursued ran for their lives, overcoming obstacles which ordinarily would have been deemed in- surmountable, hurling themselves down the steepest slopes, but always refusing to ascend towards the higher hills, so that the direction of flight was towards the main river and to the standing camp. As each wild elephant was run to a standstill, the men attempted to pass the running noose over its neck, but only after many failures could this be accomplished ; always there was a ready trunk to divert the impending danger, or to throw off the rope when it had reached its mark. Often, after a duel of this kind, the hunted one recovered its wind and the wild chase recommenced, hampered this time by a trailing length of rope, which had to be re-coiled while rushing through the jungle. At last, however, the fatal noose would be jerked tight, and then the captive would strain against it, dragging his captor through the forest till suffocated by his own exertions, and thus aoain brouo^ht to a standstill. Then commenced the hurried task of loosen- ing the slip-knot so that strangulation should
The Kheddah 1 2 5
not follow, and of securing it with a strand of hemp, so that the same danger should not again occur ; and when this was completed, there remained nothing but to shout for help, for amongst the densely grown trees it would be impossible, without entanglement, which would mean breakage of the rope, to lead the captive into the open. In the first hour or so some twenty of the wild elephants had been noosed, and those mahouts who had been unsuccessful in the chase, were now ordered to give assistance to their more fortunate companions. It was comparatively easy to fit a second rope, and to lead away the wild elephant, which was kept in position between the two tame ones, by the ropes strained to front and rear by these latter. Thus, after some delay the vanquished and conquerors were all assembled in the little valley to be inspected, and then marshalled on the road to prison.
It was at this moment that a diversion was created by the appearance of the herd-bull. This animal, as usual, at some little distance from the herd, had become excited by the
126
The Liife of a7i Rlephant
noise of the hunt, by the cries of men and elephants, by the blind rush or flight of his companions. He arrived in no mild humour, at a quick walk, his trunk swinging from side
to side, and with fury in his eyes, taking his stand some fifty yards distant from the help- less mob of men and elephants. There was at once a cry for Maula Bux to drive away the intruder, and our elephant, whose bulk unfitted him for the chase, now stepped slowly into the arena, seeming with a glance to take in the position, and with one wave of his trunk to learn what manner of animal this was who proposed to withstand him. He turned, under the pressure of his mahout's knees, towards the foe, who also advanced to the combat ; at a word from Kareem, Maula Bux quickened his pace to a charge, and the two elephants met with a shock that forced each backwards. But not for long. The superior weight of the tame
The Kheddah
127
elephant soon became evident, and the wild tusker turned to flee. With a scream of rage Maula Bux pursued and butted the flying foe with his blunted tusks. Had these been of full length and sharp, they would certainly have sunk deep into the hind-quarters of the adversary, but as it was, the defeated elephant pitched forward on to trunk and knees, then re- covered himself and fled into the shelter of the forest. Maula Bux was prevented by his mahout from following up his victory; he stood to re- ceive the compliments and endearments of his driver, and after giving a scream of triumph with uplifted trunk, resumed his position on one side of the troop of elephants.
These now started for camp in single file, a captive between every two tame elephants ; they seemed dejected at their fate, and made but litde efl'ort to escape. From time to time
128
The Life of a7i Elephant
an elephant would try to break away, but was held by the tightening ropes ; or another would throw itself on the ground, blocking the way and causing a halt alons: the line. But these delays were not serious ; the elephants continued their journey followed by the young calves whose mothers had been captured and, not long after sundown, were all secured in the camp.
It was rather a pitiable scene that was dis- closed as the silence of a moonliofht nio-ht fell on the weary camp. The prisoners struggling at their fetters, often with blood streamino^ from
the wounds where the ropes bit into the flesh ; the young calves wander- ino- around seekino- for
o o
protectionand for nourish- ment which was denied them ; and in the out- skirts of the camp where the shadows were densest, the restless form of the herd-bull who had followed the trail of his captured harem, yet, having arrived, knew not how to assist them, nor to what use
The Kheddah 129
to put his strength and courage. As the day dawned he turned away, and, slowly crossing the river, disappeared in the depths of the forest, doubtless with a view to overtake and bring too^ether the remnants of the scattered herd.
- - •■ - "' ^■'■•■"''""•''""^'M/f^lillJi/f//}iiiUf.
.o^^.-a,(,..,.ll!-:;;;;llllllllllli|,l,,!,,,,iill^ t:;;;|;,4!i.ltuiull:,
i?^w
/a."
But even this solace was denied him ; his attempt to rescue the herd on the previous day, his presence during the night in the vicinity of the camp had resulted in his classification as an animal dangerous to human life, or at least to
human interests. The order came with the break
I
I ^o
The Life of a7i Rlephaiit
of day that he was to be followed and destroyed. His tracks were easy to distinguish, and
soon a khaki-clad figure accompanied by two Indians was on the trail ; this followed the beaten path left by forty elephants bringing in the twenty cap- tives of yesterday ; it overlay the broad footmarks of the herd-bull as he too had brought up the rear of that sad procession. Then entering the scene of the conflict it had passed towards the higher hills and ultimately joined a fresher track where the remainder of the herd had met and hurried away in single file to some haven of fancied security.
The huntsmen followed on the trail now some hours old. They hoped that during the heat of the day the frightened animals might rest ; but such was not the case. Unhampered by young calves and with a known goal before
The Kheddah 131
them, they pressed on in the vain hope of escaping from the tyranny of man. And so it was that when darkness fell and the trail became invisible, the three men halted to pass the night in the forest. They had but a rough blanket apiece to protect them from dew and frost, a few unleavened cakes and a little parched pulse to satisfy their hunger, and soon they lay by the camp fire to await the dawn of another day. There were few sounds in the forest save the ceaseless drip from the trees, and occasionally
the rustling of passing ^ /v'^^5^n^^*"^'4^''*\
breezes. From time to ^"-^ — hu^^, liLg.-l^j!- > • — time nightjars passed,
sounding monotonous notes as of sonorous blows upon firm ice, or little owlets sat on the branches above uttering curious cries reminiscent of w^ater slowly dropping from a height. The hours passed slowly. From time to time one of the men rose and replenished the fire and drew a few whiffs of smoke from the gurgling hookah. But at last there were signs of returning day. The eastern sky was lit
I ^2
The Life of a7t Rlepha?tt
with a white light which turned to yellow, then to orange and crimson, and the sun peered above the horizon as if curious to see what had happened in his absence. The men took up the trail in silence ; they were cold and hungry. Towards midday they arrived on the edge of a plain covered with grass which waved high
above their heads.
In the centre of this
sea stood an island
I I ^ / ' '"''"'' raised slightly above
the swampy soil, and on this island beneath a low-crowned tree stood the object of their search. Evidently the herd were not far distant, the grass might well conceal many more elephants than those now left in freedom. The men sat down and considered the case. To approach the elephant through the grass without noise was a hopeless task, while from its depths to see, much less to shoot, was impossible. They determined to wait, hoping against hope that the bull would move from his post of vantage on to firmer ground, into
The Kheddah 1 3 3
more open country. But as evening approached it became evident that the animal had no such intention ; it also became certain that another night without food could not be spent in the forest, and so it was that after a heated dis- cussion the khaki-clad hunter disappeared in the orass on the chance of beinof able to disable the bull while daylight lasted. On his tracks after a few minutes' hesitation one of the Indians also silently crept ; the third man remained to sio^nal information to his com- panions should opportunity arise.
There was for a long time silence over the scene ; the passage of the hunters made no stir in the tall grasses. Then suddenly the elephant swung round and stood with uplifted trunk facing some hidden danger. It was a moment of anxious fear for the solitary watchman, till from the top of the grasses a puff of white smoke burst forth and a muffled report reached his ears. The elephant seemed to stagger, and turning, plunged into the grass and disappeared ; a ripple
134
The L,ife of a7t Ejlepha7it
seemed to mark his course till he emereed on the further side of the swamp and entered the forest at a swinoinor trot. The watcher re- joined his companions, and together they inspected the ground ; then, as the sun was sinking, they struck off in another direction'
and reached a villas^e where much needed food and warmth were found.
The elephant soon subsided into a rapid walk, which became slower as weakness followed the loss of blood ; he seemed astonished at what had befallen him and frightened at his growing weakness. No rage was in his heart as he pursued his weary way, leaving a trail which required no care or cunning to follow.
The Kheddah i35
Till at last he felt that he could do no more and stood leaning against the trunk of a huge tree on the banks of a rivulet which flowed gently through the forest. He had stood thus for hours, till around him was gathered a dark pool of blood, when suddenly his sensitive trunk brought him news of the presence of man. And now at last his heart was filled with fury. He waited till from his post of vantage he could locate his pursuers with accuracy, then with a scream of fury he charged down upon them. In those wild moments he hardly knew what happened. In his headlong rush he caught and trampled on at least one of his enemies. There were shots fired, and somehow he found himself dizzy and feeble, trying to support himself by the aid of his massive trunk. But without avail ; he tottered and fell with a crash, while those of his pursuers who were still alive were bemoaning the fate of their comrade and their own injuries, and at the same time congratulating themselves on having escaped with their lives from the on- slaught of a beast which had become dangerous only when hunted to its death.
T
CHAPTER X
Hunting Scenes
HOROUGHLY tested in the field in the company of his kind the elephant, Maula Bux, was now to be used in a more trying yet more interesting form of sport. Relieved of the heavy howdah which swayed at each stride and seriously incommoded him, the elephant had now to carry nothing but a light frame-work on which his master sat immediately behind the driver. Thus caparisoned he could pass readily through the densest jungle, nor did the over- hanging boughs present so constant an impedi- ment to him. The animal loved these silent roamings through the forest, when no word was spoken lest the jungle tribes might become aware of the presence of man : when he was guided by pressure of knee or touch of hand ; when he could as he passed graze on the
Hunting Scenes 137
various delicacies that the forest provided and so obtain that constant change of diet so essential to his health.
He too was able to participate in the sport that his master sought. The keenness of his sense of scent would often detect some animal invisible owing to the denseness of the forest growth, and, especially when some animal obnoxious to him, such as pig, bear, panther or tiger was in the vicinity, his sensitive trunk would be waved in its direction merely in order to assure himself of its whereabouts, but thus, all unwittingly, giving notice to his com- panions. The sportsman who proposes to make acquaintance with the jungle tribes and neglects the two important advantages of silence and of gaining information by watching the elephant he rides, a being much more gifted than himself in forest lore, will have but little success in his attempts. The human voice is audible at great distances amongst the silent trees, and at its sound every animal, aware of the presence of man, either removes to a distance or crouches in concealment till the danger is past. Then,
138 The Life of a7i Rlephant
too, in a country where wild elephants abound the passage of an elephant grazing as he goes creates no alarm : the scent of human beings seated high above the ground is carried upward and forward by the breezes, so that good oppor- tunity is given to study the forest tribes while at their ease. To do this to perfection the early morning hours or those before nightfall, sometimes even the brioht moonlit niohts of India, are most suitable, and for success in a pursuit so interesting to the naturalist as well as to the sportsmen, the elephant is a most useful coadjutor.
Long before the sun rose one morning, when the stars were twinkling through the frosty dew and the sky seemed of inky blackness Maula Bux strode, with his companions, away from the little encampment where shrouded forms still lay around the camp fires. A dog had (^ - ^ barked in protest at being left
behind and his appeal had been heard; he was now sittinor shiverino- with happiness,
Hu7iting Sce?ies 139
beside his master. A horse whinnied, and the watchful grooms stirred to find the cause of the disturbance ; then the darkness of the night shut out all further movement. The ele- phant, on whom this darkness had little effect, though he used his trunk constantly as a blind man will use his stick on an unknown road, moved steadily away towards the hills, the intention being to intercept the forest tribes as they moved, heavy with food, to their resting- places for the day. From time to time their presence could be heard, but nothing could be seen by human eyes. There would be the belling of the sambhar, or the sharp alarm of the swamp deer, followed by a rustling through the o'rass : or from the distance would come the grunting of some tiger disappointed in the chase, or the trumpeting of a herd of elephants. When daylight broke Maula Bux had reached the foot of a rancre of hills which barred the view to the north, while to the south extended
I40 The Life of aii Rlephant
the level orasslands from whence arose here and there Hide clouds of white mist denoting the presence of stagnant water. He climbed to the top of a small eminence and In the distance his riders saw a sight which compensated them for the chilly ride In the silent darkness, and even for such further exertions as might fall to their lot during the day. A herd of bison were scattered over the plain below moving In full security towards some plateau in the hills where they proposed to pass the day. In the dim morning light they gave the Impression of a herd of enormous black catde grazing its way homeward. The calves ran by their mothers' sides or gambolled aimlessly In their neighbour- hood ; the cows moved stolidly along browsing on some tender branch as they passed, or pulling mouthfuls of the wet grass. And last of all came two bulls whose massive forms seemed to dwarf the other members of the herd.
And now the sun shot suddenly into the horizon, and the scene changed. Blacks and greys disappeared from the landscape and vivid colours took their place, in the greens of grass
Huftting Sce7tes 141
and foliage, in the orange and reds of the flowering trees. The herd of bison was also transformed ; they passed a few yards below the hunters in all their pride of graceful strength. The bulls were of a deep chocolate colour, turning to black in the shadows ; the head was held high, as if the weight of the curved horns, green and polished like clouded jade, was hardly felt ; the light-blue eyes gazed serenely and confidently around, and the golden yellow of the slender lower limbs contributed to the effect of agility in spite of the ponderous bulk of an animal some eighteen hands in height. The herd passed slowly by without suspicion or alarm, imprinting on the minds of the hunters an indelible picture seldom seen save by those who pass their lives in the forest ; and, as they grazed, a slant of the fickle morning breeze brought to the herd the taint of man. They swung round facing the path in which they had come, inhaling the air with suspicion, and then the signal for flight came in a sharp whistle from one of the cows. The herd turned and fled, galloping over the broken ground with the
142 "The Life of aii Rlephaitt
agility of startled deer, earth and gravel flying as they passed, so that in a few seconds only a cloud of dust remained as proof of their presence.
The party wandered on skirting the line of hills, entering from time to time some deep-cut ravine and crossing its steep watershed into the next. Often when slowly mounting to the summit of these little hills a sambhar or swamp- deer would be seen passing along the further ridge, where, later on, selecting some leafy tree, he w^ould lie on its northern side so as to be in the shade during the heat of the day. Here chewing the cud reflectively, with ears con- stantly twitching to and fro, and with sensitive nostrils testing the air, he would rest till the eveninof shadows leno^thened.
These animals passed unmolested, and it was not till the broad track of a buffalo-bull was found that the sportsmen seemed at last to be in earnest. They descended from the elephant and took up the trail, following it with ease on the softer ground, losing it frequently as the animal passed over stones and rocks, recover- ing it again after much search. The sun was
Hunting Scenes 143
now o-ettino- hot, and it was certain that the buffalo must soon be overtaken ; the men went cautiously, when suddenly from behind a crashing- in the jungle, the thudding of heavy feet was heard. The buffalo, with the cunning of his tribe, had returned upon his trail and then struck off at right angles to it before lying down for the day. He had heard the trackers and suffered them to pass, but the sight of the elephant, which was following some three hundred yards behind, was too much for him. He rose to his feet and bounded heavily away.
The buffalo, with head held horizontally, tore through the dense forest ; it seemed impossible that his vast bulk and wide-spread horns should find a way without colliding with some tree, or that his foothold on broken and stony ground should be so secure. The impression produced on the eye was that one saw the whole of the massive head and body at one time ; the fact was, that always at least one half was covered by the thick vegetation.
In his hasty flight from an imaginary danger the buffalo took no thouoht of the men who
144 The Life of a7i Rlephant
had passed him. A shot rang out dully, muffled in the interlaced crown of the trees, but no sign was given by the frightened animal. The hunters followed, and some yards ahead found blood on the trail. They followed eagerly until the gallop of the hunted was reduced to a walk, and then they too acted with circumspection.
To a wounded animal comes after the first flurry a determination to reach some place of fancied security, and as long as self-control lasts the line of retreat will be straight towards a fixed point. Zig-zagging in the track denotes growing weakness and inability to persist in any given direction. But this trail led almost
straiofht throuo^h the forest, and dis- appeared at last in a sea of hio-h o-rass, wherein man was of himself helpless. Here, then, the ele- phant was called upon to assist, and slowly the party entered the stronorhold of the wounded buffalo. Not
Hunting Scenes i45
a sign of the great beast was visible. The sun shone brightly on the green grass, now unruffled by any breeze ; no track could be discerned, for the vegetation had closed over the passage of the jungle tribes who below had formed little tunnels for their use. It was on the elephant that the hunters must depend for Information as to the whereabouts of the hunted. And this was soon given. Maula Bux halted and waved his trunk above the grasses, then for one second it remained poised pointing to the source whence came the tainted air.
At the same moment there was a rush through the grass, and the ready rifle again was fired. The rush subsided to a walk, and behind the elephant the grass nodded and trembled as a way was forced through it by some Invisible animal. Some twenty yards behind followed the hunters, till the end of the savannah land was reached, and then a heavy head armed with spreading horns protruded. The buffalo,
K
146 The Life of a7t E,lepha7it
wounded to death, still retained the instinct to avoid the open ground. Almost reeling with weakness, he turned to reo^ain the shelter of the grass, and fell with a last merciful shot through the brain. In the evening light the hunters returned slowly to camp. Ere they reached it, the jungle tribes were again alert on their way to grazing or to hunt. From the slopes on the hills and from its deep-cut ravines they stole quiedy forth, testing the air at each footstep, listening for any suspicious sound, till satisfied of safety, they rushed with quick bounds from the edore of the forest, where lurkinor foes might lie in wait, to the open country, where keenness of sight came to the aid of scent and hearine.
CHAPTER XI
Some Da?igers of the Forest
THE inborn instincts of an animal are difficult to eradicate, yet it is to be expected that constant association with man, his greatest enemy, would result in a con- siderable relaxation of the usual suspicion and caution which are shown in a wild state. And this is no doubt the case. Thus, for instance, when pitfalls are dug in localities frequented by elephants, it is probably the scent of human beings which often provides a safeguard to the intended victim, but this scent would convey no warning of danger to the domesticated animal. In the same way, wild elephants are rarely, if ever, entangled in quick- sands, while the tame elephant, deferring instinct to obedience, is not infrequently engulfed.
In the course of many years' wandering in
148 The Life of a7i Rlephaitt
the jungles, it was impossible but that mis- haps should occur to the elephant, Maula Bux. When he crossed over wide stretches of burnt grasslands, the stout, charred spikes protrud- ing six inches or more from the surface were especially dangerous to the soft, broad soles of his feet. At times one would penetrate deeply and break off in the wound, when the elephant would halt and endeavour to withdraw it with his trunk, or to get rid of it by violent rubbing on the ground. Frequently these attempts at relief were futile, and the mahout would descend and remove the splinter with his knife, cleansing and anointing the w^ound on arrival in camp. Or again, the ill-fitting harness would fret the withers or back of the animal, more especially if the skin were allowed to become dusty or dirty ; and the greatest care had then to be taken that deep-seated ulcers were not formed. Or, as the elephant became older, there would be trouble with his teeth, the new growth perhaps not being strong enough to push aside the old. For, in consequence of the unnatural life in confinement, slight injuries might produce vastly
Some Da7igers of the Forest 149
different results to those which would follow when the animal was in a normal condition.
The recuperative powers of the forest tribes will appear amazing to those whose acquaintance is only with domestic animals, though these may be of allied species. In the same way, uncivilized man shows a fortitude, even an indifference to injuries which would incapaci- tate one born and bred in more artificial surroundings. Nature may indeed be cruel in order to prevent racial deterioration in her creatures ; she may promptly destroy the unfit and diseased ; but she aids in the recovery of those who throuo-h accident are thrown for a time on her mercy. Nature, in short, takes or saves life in a beneficent effort for the com- mon welfare, while mankind assumes the same responsibility for the benefit of the individual.
The naturalist v/ill not have many oppor- tunities of watching the behaviour ot animals when suffering from severe injuries unless these are inflicted intentionally by man or beast ; for only in the latter cases does the hunter follow up his advantage at once and so prevent
1 50 The Life of a7i Rlepha7tt
that immediate concealment which is the first instinct of the wounded. The object of this concealment is no doubt to secure refuoe from the attacks of flies, which if successful are certain to prevent rapid healing, and in many cases result in a linoerinof death. Another reason for hiding is found in the necessity of avoiding the presence of other forest tribes, who all resent rather than pity the distress of the lame and suffering, probably because such unfortunates become a source of danger to the community by attracting the attacks of the great or small carnivora. Finally, it is only in complete rest that bones can reunite and lacerated muscles heal, while the pain of the wound and the fever which follows destroy the appetite which is the sole incentive that drives animals to roam.
Instances have been observed of the disappear- ance of wounded tigers in spite of days devoted to skilful tracking ; yet after the search had been abandoned the animal has been known, even seen, to leave some dense cover which had been specially watched, and at once to proceed on a lengthy march to some more retired and
So7ne Daitgers, of the Forest 151
therefore safer locality. With elephants injuries have been under observation which were followed by a good recovery, though this would certainly have proved fatal in the case of domestic animals. And this fact is interesting, because an elephant is prevented from rest in concealment, first, because of his large bulk, and second, because he cannot go without food for lono- periods, as carnivorous animals can. On the other hand he can protect every part of his body against the attacks of flies by means of his trunk or tail, and so is in a particularly favour- able position in this regard. Should one of these members be absent, however, he is no better off than his neighbours, as was proved by the fact that a noted and dangerous rogue elephant when killed was found to have lost his tail, probably when flying from a victorious opponent, and the attack of flies had resulted in a deep and wide cavity, which was probably the reason of his evil temper, and would certainly have ultimately resulted in his death.
A panther, whose tail had dropped off in consequence of a bullet wound, found means.
152 The ILife of a7i Fjlephant
with the cunning of his tribe, to avoid the attacks of the winored torments of the forest. When examination became possible, some weeks after the infliction of this wound, the bullet was found flattened at the base of the spine, and externally there was no mark whatever to be observed on his denuded hind-quarters. In the same way, on more than one occasion deer have been observed who, disappearing with shattered hind-legs, have been shot weeks after in their old haunts in excellent condition, though a healed stump replaced what might have been considered to have been a limb almost necessary to their existence. From wounds of the internal organs an animal will rarely recover, but from those of trunk or limb which do not prevent it from taking a share in the life of the jungle, it will recover, provided it is allowed to follow its instincts of concealment, rest, and starvation.
A narrow rivulet flowed sluggishly from the hills between steep-cut banks of clay. Along its borders were scattered willow trees, and here and there it formed wide morasses
Some Da7igers of the Forest 153
where flourished high grasses densely grown, forming impenetrable cover to those animals, such as the tiger and swamp deer, whose wide feet bore them safely over the ooze. To cross this rivulet at its narrowest part was the task set to Maula Bux by his driver, and, although in his wisdom the animal at first refused the passage, yet, urged once and again, his fore-feet slid reluctantly down the steep bank and he at once sank up to his shoulders in the quick- sand. Immediately water seemed to pour from the soil and a miniature lake was formed around the struggling elephant, while efforts to with- draw his feet seemed to make matters worse. As he sank yet deeper into the liquid sand, his hind-feet were dragged from the bank, and now only his body was visible above the water. His companions quickly dismounted, but could give but little aid. For the elephant lay first on one side and withdrew two lees from the swamp, then rolled heavily over on the other
154 The Life of a?i Rlephant
in a vain effort to free his limbs. He seemed for the first time in his Hfe to be in an agony of apprehension : at one moment to lose all courage and lie quiescent, the next to be filled with a fury which led to speedy exhaustion. Meanwhile he sank deeper and deeper, till
only the top of his : — ^^^L,^^^^^^^^:^^ back and head were
above water, while his trunk waved frantically to and fro seeking for some hold, or for some object, living or inanimate, that might aid him in his struggle. While the elephant was in these extremities, Kareem, aware that he ran the danger of being seized and thrust under the body of the frightened animal, at the risk of his life slashed the girths of the harness and the heavy grass-stuffed saddle fell loose, and was immediately seized and disappeared, the waving trunk seeming to implore for further aid. Then in all haste, saplings, brushwood, anything that could be collected, were thrown to the elephant, and with such good effect that at last there seemed to be no further fear from
Some Dangers of the Forest 155
drowning. With his eyes below the surface of the water the trunk still continued to grope on all sides for something to grasp, till in a lucky movement it encountered the stem of a willow tree. Instantly the powerful member was coiled around it, and it was evident that if the tree held there was a chance of escape from the terrible position. The tree indeed bent and cracked, and the roots were strained to the utmost, but at last with a mighty effort Maula Bux hauled him- self up the bank and stood, covered with mud, on the further side of the stream. Then olancino-
o o
round with blood-shot eyes, he seemed to search for the enemy that had done him this wrono-. The men stood silendy watching, afraid to interfere. They passed unnoticed, but there were trees and grasses on which to vent his fury, and these he proceeded to overthrow and trample on, till around him was a wide space cleared of every living thing. This senseless rage wore itself out at last, and it was a fatigued elephant that later submitted to be led quietly away. Yet both he and the mahout had learnt their lesson ; the one in future would
156 The Life of a7i E,lepha72t
not obey when instinct told that there was danger, while the other would wisely refrain from enforcing- an order which the elephant showed continued reluctance to carry out.
Of the method of capture of elephants by pitfalls much has been written, but perhaps the facts remain unaltered, that it is a method economical in initial outlay and expensive ulti- mately in the loss of animal life. A considerable proportion of elephants are permanently maimed or injured by the fall, while there is no possibility of selecting animals suitable for subsequent train- ing. This system of hunting is perhaps the most ancient in existence, and is adapted to the capture of all the jungle tribes ; to that of the hare, which steps on a cunningly contrived door which opens only downwards ; of the deer or pig, which springs across an inviting gap in the hedo-e surroundino- the wheat fields, to find itself impaled on a bamboo spike in the concealed pit beyond ; to the tiger, bison, or elephant, which quietly passing along well- known paths is suddenly hurled into the dark depths prepared for them ; but it is better
Some Da72gers of the Forest 157
adapted to the taking- of animal life, than to procuring living specimens for the subsequent service of man.
Moreover, when many pits are dug it may be impossible to visit each daily, and the entrapped animals may suffer the torments of suspense and of thirst for many hours ; and ultimately, when the pits are no longer required and are care- lessly left covered, they present a deadly danger to man and beast, in that in case of accident there is little chance that help will be forth- coming, and death by starvation is almost inevitable.
It was into one of these abandoned pits that our elephant fell when passing through the forest. The fabric of the solid earth giving way under foot, the short rush through space, the shock of sudden arrest amid showers of falling earth and stones were sensations which, though instantaneous, yet produced a feeling of indescribable horror. It was experienced both by the elephant and his
158 The Life of an Elephant
riders, one of whom was in the fall thrown violently forward, and found himself lying on the further edge of a chasm in which his com- panions had disappeared. And it was fortunate that this was so, and that by the aid of a rope hastily thrown he was able to rescue his fellow-man from the rage of the imprisoned elephant.
The animal stood firmly wedged in between the narrow walls of his prison, but already he had commenced to dig with tusks and fore feet in the endeavour to make a way to freedom. It was a task which might in hours or days have been accomplished without assistance had the earth been of a soft and yielding nature. But here the hard clay rendered the attempt almost hopeless. At length the elephant became calmer, and was willing to listen to the exhor- tations of his mahout, who sat on the edge of the pit and spoke soothingly to him, who offered him dainties of leaves and jungle fruit, nor left him till many men appeared on the scene with axes and shovels. Then from all sides, earth, brushwood, bundles of grass were
Some Da7tgers of the Forest 159
thrown into the pit to be trampled down by the willing elephant, till after long labour his head and shoulders appeared above the surface and with an effort he was once aoain on firm land.
Far different would have been the fate of any wild animal with none to help ; for, though there may have been no witness of their struooles, a record remains imprinted on the surroundings even when only a few bones are left to tell the
VfZTZ^v^
mM'
piteous tale. In the midst of a forest which had stood for centuries were once found the ruins of a populous town ; of the houses and temples only the foundations remained, level with or hidden by the leaf-mould of years. The area covered by these ruins, unsuspected by the passer-by, in itself indicated the existence of a
i6o The Life of a7i Rlephant
well-to-do people, and this surmise was confirmed by the discovery of two wells of large diameter not very far apart, which had evidently been filled in at a time when the inhabitants were put to the sword and their dwellings destroyed. One of these wells it was proposed to open out for the supply of water to a new generation of workers in the forest that now flourished on w^hat was once a more prosperous landscape. Some forty feet from the surface and yet twenty feet above water level lay the bones of a tiger blackened with age ; the claws of both fore and hind-feet were worn to stumps, and, looking up towards the light, one could see the reason in the masonry torn from the walls of the shaft, and the deep indentations on every side of it. One could measure the heioht to which the animal had leapt in the first few hours before his strength fell from him, and the ever-increasing distance from freedom that marked his failing vitality : the lowest marks were scarce three feet from where the skeleton lay, and this long drawn-out death took perhaps fifteen or twenty days to complete. Below the remains of the
Some Dangers of the Forest i6i
tiger other relics came to light, household utensils, such as ancient flour-mills ; carved tiles which once adorned wealthy houses ; bricks from demolished walls, and lastly, weapons of iron, spear-heads and swords, rusty and brittle, and some poor relics of the slain.
And when the work was completed and pure water once ao^ain flowed into the well from subterranean stores, the natives, perhaps descendants of the conquerors or of the van- quished, refused to drink lest they should be defiled by the deeds of their predecessors.
CHAPTER XII
Processional Duties
XT was amongst scenes similar to those de- ^ picted that the elephant Maula Bux spent many years of his life, till advancing age impaired his agility and increasing bulk interfered with his speed. He had grown in imposing beauty with good treatment and with the comparative freedom of a sporting life, and his value was now so great that they hesitated to expose him further to the chances of a forest life. He was sold to an Indian Prince to enhance the dignity of the State, to carry the ruler in procession, to be lent to those guests whom his owner wished to honour by affording sport with absolute safety amongst the more dangerous of the jungle tribes. His driver, of course, accompanied him into this change of life ; for probaby without his old friend, the elephant would have become useless
Processio7ial Duties
i6
for his work. He would first have fretted at the absence of his companion, and then have vented his annoyance on his successor. A record of many years' successful care of Maula Bux went with Kareem ; the presence of the mahout was equivalent to the sale of goodwill with the business. But neither man nor beast appreci- ated the change. To stand day by day under the shelter of a roof, on a cemented floor, to be fed monotonously with fodder, stale or even contaminated on its way to the stables ; to be stuffed with artificial food prepared by man ; and for all exercise, to walk sedately along the level roads was not to the tastes of the beast ; while the man regretted, as all sportsmen would, the wild jungle, the rugged hills, the hardships
of the summer heats, and perhaps most of
all, the silent and
mysterious nights. In
enforced retirement,
the thoughts of both
often went back to the
forests and recalled
events,
L 2
each with
1 64 The Life of a7i Elepha7it
some background, whose beauty bad, all un- known to themselves at the time, permanently impressed itself on their memories.
At rare interv^als both man and elephant were Q;iven the chance of revisitinor the scenes they loved so w*ell. There would be bustle and hurry at headquarters in preparation for the visit of some potentate. Harness and howdahs w^ere being burnished ; tents standing in rows of snowy whiteness were being repaired ; strinofs of bullock carts were tailino- alonor the road with stores of furniture and provisions. In the forest for leagues around, pit-falls were being- dug to entrap the tigers and panthers, so that the local supply within reach of a central camp mieht not fall short ; for it is in the nature of thincrs that those animals
A/-^- r^/^'^''~"^Ti'-^<^^. which require a laro-e ^^}%'^^^ supply of living food must
Processional Duties 165
also enjoy a large area in which they may satisfy their hunofer without exhaustinor the existinsr head of game. At last the day would arrive when the shoot was to commence. Maula Bux on such occasions was, indeed, but one of some two hundred elephants, but, bearing as he did, the principal guest, he was the centre of attrac- tion. His work was easy. When the tiger or other animal had been located, when it had been surrounded so that there was little chance of flight, it was then his duty to stride into the arena, to find the quarry, to stand as firm as a tower when the shot was fired, and to remain so, in spite of attack until the affair was over. There was nothing to disturb his equanimity ; his rider was probably trained to the use of gun and rifle from infancy and never made a mistake ; and, even if this were not the case, there were ready rifles in his vicinity to complete the work which on occasion may have been unskilfully commenced.
To the elephant such trips were joyful occurrences, for he was once more in the wilds with all their fascination of running- water and
66
'The Life of a7i Rlephaiit
growing vegetation, living under the open sky with all the sounds of an exuberant nature around him. For Kareem, the mahout, the change was also welcome, for besides observing and criticising the woodcraft of others, he was in a responsible position in driving princes to their pastime, while he returned rich in presents to resume once more a monotonous life.
On the occasion of State processions there was little pleasure or profit to be won. In fact,
the mahout secretly re- sented the order to deck his charge in heavy embroidered cloths which almost swept the ground on either side ; to secure in its place the heavy gilded howdah, to seat himself on cloth-of-gold so that little was visible of his elephant save a forehead fantastically painted in brilliant colours, and a pair of golden tusks. Still more, he objected to be accompanied on either side by spearmen,
K-^'-:^'
P?^ocessionai Duties 167
as if his elephant ever required more restraint than he could bring to bear. And so it was that on such occasions, the distasteful work over, he would hurriedly remove the trappings of State, and they two would resort to some quiet pool in the river, and most thoroughly remove, not only the dust of the road, but also every sign of the adornment prescribed. During such operation, Kareem would con- verse with his "brother" freely, expressing his opinion on the folly of such shows, and com- paring the present with the old days in the forest, when they were one in pleasure and in danger ; and moreover, enjoyed plentiful rations, for the man good venison, and for the elephant, all that the forest could yield of succulent fodder.
In every elephant's life comes a time when he is possessed of an evil spirit, when the world seems black before him, when good nature is replaced by a petulant and savage disposition. In the wild state this indisposition rapidly passes away : the animal feeds on astringent herbs and roots, or eats earth in large quantities
1 68 The Life of an Rlephant
to scour himself out ; he expends his super- fluous energies in destroying trees and up- rooting bamboos, and soon regains his evenness of temper. In confinement none of these re- medies are available, and he often goes from bad to worse, ultimately to be butchered with volleys of bullets, when one well-directed shot w^ould have ended his career.
Kareem, the mahout, in daily Intercourse with his charge, noticed an unevenness of temper, a loss of appetite, a repugnance for the three hours' sleep which the healthy elephant permits to himself; and lastly, the discharge from the temporal gland which is a certain, though not con- stant, sign of this distemper. He strengthened the shackles of his charge and orave him cool- ing medicines ; but even he had never seen the strength of Maula Bux exerted to the full. In the early morning hours, when all slept, the devil entered into the body of Maula Bux, who with one mio-htv wrench burst the chains that held his hind-legs in tether, and then placing his hind- foot on the shackles between his fore- legs tore them asunder as if made of whipcord
A MAX, SEATED HIGH ON A
PLATFORM, ROBBERS.
WAS WATCHING FOR NOCTURNAL
Processio7tal Duties
169
instead of iron. Then, once more free, he strode away in the direction of the forest, leaving behind him a trail of destruction. It was well that the world was asleep and that not many human beings crossed his path, for long familiarity had resulted in contempt of man, and he would gladly have satisfied his unreasoning- rage in slaughter. Once indeed when crashing through the fields and trampling the ripening crops, he was annoyed by the cries of a man who, seated high on a platform, was watching for nocturnal robbers. In an instant Maula Bux had demolished
the platform and trampled its occupant in the dust ; and then, yet further excited by wanton bloodshed, he had raoed onwards till he reached the forest. Here he gave vent to his passions by butting the trees and breaking off saplings, until his forehead was covered with blood and he stood in sullen exhaustion.
I/O
The Life of aii Rlepha72t
It was not lono- before he was missed bv Kareem and the alarm was raised ; an alarm which grew as the broad trail was followed and the extent of the mischief done proved the violent temper of the runaway. The men followed mounted on many female elephants and bearing ropes and shackles to lead away their captive. But it was not till nightfall that they found him, and it was then too late to make any attempt on his liberty. With break of day they were again on the trail, and discovered Maula Bux standino- in the v^antaore oround of a small lake in the heart of the forest. They surrounded the lake, but were disappointed that the tusker would not fly from them, but stood awaiting their pleasure. They, losing courage, waited around discussino- the safest method of approach. But a safe way was hard to find. As the female elephants approached within strikinof distance Maula Bux charoed down upon them with a shrill scream of rage. Those that he encountered were violently thrown to the ground, the others scattered and fled, and the victor watched with sullen eye the removal
Processi07ial Duties 171
of the wounded nor made any attempt to follow the flying foe.
The word went forth that the elephant must be shot, and, while some returned to head- quarters to obtain the necessary permission, the others kept the fugitive in view as he listlessly roamed through the forest. It was then that Kareem, with bitter grief in his heart, came to the conclusion that life without his brother would be of no use to him, and determined to recapture him single-handed or die in the attempt. Preparing some balls of sweetmeat in which large doses of opium were concealed he walked slowly up to the maddened elephant, and, as soon as he was detected, stood and
spoke to him in terms of -^^
endearment. The crowd X"'/^^^! -~^ ^'^ ■■ 1
of natives watched the / ^ — Ov •[/'
scene w^ith breathless / /"^ VAW interest. They saw the v^ ^ ) { great elephant double / \ ) ,-^ ) ^s up his trunk and cock ' — ^-'""^^
his ears on the point of charging down upon this insignificant intruder ; then, as the man
172
The Liife of a7i Rlephant
continued to advance talking the while, they saw the trunk fall listlessly to the ground and the elephant stand as if undecided what to do.
Now the man, barely more than half the height of the elephant, was alongside him, was stroking his trunk and rubbing his eyes and chin : he was offering him sweetmeats, which the elephant was devouring ; and now, sitting down in front of his brother, seemed as uncon- cerned as if the beast was at home in his stable. It was not long before the opium took effect and Maula Bux became too dazed to carry out any further mischief; and there for some days he stood, again securely tethered, guarded on each side by a female elephant, with his driver constantly on the watch until the time arrived when he could without fear be permitted to be taken back to his place and to resume his wonted life of o-ood health and oood humour.
CHAPTER XIII
The End
A
COBRA was coiled in the sunshine on the dusty plain, each curve making a point of light : near by lay a ghostly replica of himself, a transparent tissue reproducing every scale and every marking of his body ; and now, resplendent in a new coat of mail, at ease after long days of inconvenience, with poison glands full and stomach empty, the snake awaited what the future should brine. The birds twittered overhead and the rays of the sun struck with ao-ree-
o
able warmth ; and then a hot wind
174 The Life of an Rlephaiit
awoke in the south raising small whirls of dust, eivino- warnino- to all livino- animals that it was
time to seek shelter from heat and light. The snake uncoiled himself and his black leno'th undulated over the plain, leaving a furrow in the dust transversely marked by the large scales of his belly. He continued his journey till he arrived at a stack of oreen-leaved branches which offered a cool and safe retreat, and, entering, disappeared from view.
It was sunset when the elephant, Maula Bux, returned from the labours of the day. For long- hours he had borne the heavy trappings of state, which entirely enveloped his body and prevented the cooling breeze from reaching his sensitive skin. On the top of these heavy cloths of o^old and silk he had carried the state howdah, itself no mean weight, wherein sat those whom the people delighted to honour. Preceded, surrounded, and followed by spear- men, by bearers of '' Chaunries " and umbrellas, he had paced the processional path, unalarmed
-,
n
The Eiid 175
by the shouts of the populace, by the reports of guns and explosions of fireworks, all alike naturally repugnant to him. He had carefully picked his way through the crowd, harming none ; lightly with his trunk setting aside those who intruded in his path ; and now, another day of painful duty passed, he had been relieved of his load, had poured
water on his heated ^ ^ -r -
body and cooled himself in the evaporation of the evening breeze ; he had disposed of his
rations and stood at rest watching his mahout, who in a neighbouring hut was preparing his evenino- meal
The sun set and soon the moon was shining- over the plain ; one by one the lights were extinouished and the noise from the bazaar ceased. At such times one could comprehend the dreamy attitude of this huge beast; doubt- less his memory turned to similar glorious nights passed in the peace of the forest, when absolute contentment made for happiness ; or to
176
The Life of a7i Rlepha?tt
those other times, when, though subject to man,
he roamed the jungles in sympathy with him. The elephant had leaned forward to draw a
branch of the green fodder from the pile before him, and was instantly aware of a sharp blow on the end of his extended trunk. A black snake was rearing its head from amonost the wilted foliaoe, ^ '" hissing gently as it waved
to and fro. The elephant raised his massive
fore-foot, and without haste crushed the reptile
as a man might crush any noxious insect. Then
he stood as if considerino- the matter.
The pain from the bite flowed in a stream of
fire up his trunk, and he
commenced to rock from side
to side in agony ; now it
reached his brain and seemed
to numb it with its force ; it
poured like red hot lava
through his veins, so that his
legs trembled and refused to
The R7id
177
support his heavy bulk. The elephant knelt down as he had done thousands of times in the service of man, but even so there was no relief ; dizzy he rolled over on his side and groaned aloud.
At once from the hut came the watchful mahout with the cry of, ''What ails you, oh! my brother?" but the elephant was unable to respond to the exhortation to rise ; he now lay as if insensible, breathing heavily. The mahout quickly despatched a messenger for aid, but it was long before the ''sahib" in charge of the stud arrived. He found nothing but an elephant extended tranquilly on the earth, at his side squatted the mahout, weeping bitterly with cries of "My brother, my brother!"
GLASGOW : PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS BY ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO. LTD.
UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME
The Life of a Tiger
BY
SIR S. EARDLEY-WILMOT, K.C.I.E.
Author of "Forest Life and Sport in India"
ILLUSTRATED BY
IRIS EARDLEY-WILMOT
" Sir S. Eardley-Wilmot is a keen and careful observer of the manners and customs of wild creatures great and small, and his first book ' Forest Life and Sport in India,' published last year, revealed him as a notable authority on the vie intime of the Jungle. In this sequel Sir S. Eardley-Wilmot gives us the life-history of a tiger from his earliest cubhood until the moment when he pays the final penalty for becoming under compulsion an eater of human flesh. This true tale has many a surprising episode, though all happens from beginning to end naturally and by arrangement with Nature, who is as good a playwright as she is a dramatist. This author never makes the mistake of imputing human motives to wild animals — a mistake which is characteristic of the 'Nature- fakers.' About 150 tiny thumbnail sketches by the author's daughter (whose line is admirable ; she is almost the Phil May of Jungle-life) and some delightful photographs by his wife enhance the fascination of a book which is well worthy to be placed on the same shelf as the chronicle of Mowgli's adventures." — Morning Post.
" This is a theme which has been handled at length twice at least before, but in neither of these cases quite so successfully or with the same soundness in detail and intimate knowledge." — The Times.
" This most interesting, admirably written, and veracious volume." — Pall Mall Gazette.
*' The book is as true to life and as fascinating as the same author's ' Forest Life and Sport in India,' and no higher praise could be given than that." — Outlook.
" An admirable natural history book. A sportsman's and a natural- ist's book, not a sentimentalist's." — New York Sun.
" The tale is certainly very fascinating. Not only is the tiger himself introduced, but life in the jungle is painted vividly and naturally." — Field.
LONDON: EDWARD ARNOLD
" SchllSTondon." ^' ^"^ «, ^^''''- «'-"'
rj. 1 , Bond Street, London, W.
1 elephone : No. 1883 Mayfair. September, 1912.
Mr. Edward Arnold's
AUTUMN ANNOUNCEMENTS, 1 9 12
CAMPAIGNS OF A WAR CORRESPONDENT.
By MELTON PRIOR.
Illustrated from the Author's Sketches. One Volume. Demy 8vo.
15s. net.
The late Melton Prior was undoubtedly the most experienced as well as one of the most gifted artist war correspondents of his time. He represented the Illustrated London News in the field for many years, until, in fact, the conditions of campaigning had altered to an extent that must inevitably affect the whole future of the fascinating but dangerous work of the artist in the firing line. In the thirty years of Melton Prior's active service he made voluminous notes, and some two years before his death asked Mr. S. L. Bensusan to look through his Reminiscences with a view to editing the work. Before the precise lines of the work could be determined Mr. Prior died, but at the request of his widow Mr. Bensusan has edited the story of the campaigns. The narrative, full of intimate and personal touches and pictures of great men, will be illustrated by a selection from Prior's own drawings and sketches. No work of the same scope has yet been offered to the reading public. The campaigns cover a period of over thirty years, from 1873 ^^ i9<^5> ^.nd include the Ashanti War, the Russo-Turkish War, the Kaffir and Zulu Wars, the Boer War of 1881, the Egyptian Campaign (1882), the Nile Expedition, the Burmese Campaign, the Jameson Raid, the Afridi Campaign (1897), the Transvaal War, Somaliland, and the Russo-Japanese War.
LONDON : EDWARD ARNOLD, 41 & 43 MADDOX STREET. W.
2 Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements,
GERMANY AND THE NEXT WAR.
(" DEUTSCHLAND UND DER NACHSTE KRIEG.")
By General FRIEDRICH VON BERNHARDI. One volume^ with a Map, Demy Sw. los. 6d, net.
General von Bernhardi, a distinguished Cavalry General, is probably the most influential German writer of the day on current strategical and tactical problems. His new book is the most candid expression that has been given in recent years to the doctrine that Germany must, regardless of the rights and interests of other peoples, fight her way to predominance. The book has caused a great sensation in Germany, where it has passed through many editions in a very short time.
General Bernhardi's first chapter is on "The Right to Make War," his second " The Duty to Make War." In his view the only alternatives before the German Empire are "World Power" or " Decline and Fall." The cynicism with which he accepts Machiavellian doctrines is remarkable, and he maintains that history shows that "wars which were pjroduced of deliberate intent with statesmanlike insight had the happiest results." War all round is contemplated with equanimity. War with England is probably the first item on the programme; France must be com- pletely overthrown ; the permanent neutrality of Belgium is ridi- culed; the Balance of Power in Europe must be deliberately destroyed. Two chapters are allotted to the coming naval war with England, which are of great interest. The book is one which cannot be ignored, and well deserves study by all who are interested in military and naval afl"airs and in the foreign relations of the country.
AN AFRICAN YEAR.
By CULLEN GOULDSBURY,
Author of "The Tree ok Bitter Fruit," etc; Joint- Author of "The Great Plateau of Northern Rhodesia."
With Illustrations. Crown Svo. 5s. net.
In ''An African Year" the author has endeavoured to depict, month by month, the domestic side of life on the Outer Fringe of Colonization, disregarding the heavier political questions, avoiding the weightier matters of ethnology and native social problems, and laying stress rather upon the theme that women as well as men may find a congenial place in the frontier life, provided that they are of the right calibre. Hams and jams are almost as important in a new country as administrative measures ; and the author would evidently be well pleased if more women, like the " Beryl " to whom the book is dedicated, went abroad to supervise the hams and the jams of their husbands in the tropics.
Mr. Edward Arnold^s Autumn Announcements. 3
THE HOLY WAR IN TRIPOLI.
By G. F. ABBOTT,
Author of "Through India with the Prince," "A Tale of a Tour in Macedonia," etc.
One Volume. Demy Svo, Illustrated. 15s. net.
Contradictory reports have been rife about the Tripolitan War, and the course of the campaign is as obscure as its consequences are important. The public will therefore welcome an unbiassed and graphic narrative by an eye-witness and well-known student of the East.
Such a book is " The Holy War in Tripoli," by Mr. G. F. Abbott. The volume does not purport to deal with the political aspect of the question, but is a record of first-hand impressions. Mr. Abbott spent about four months with the Turco-Arab warriors in the desert outside Tripoli, shared their hardships, witnessed their struggles and achievements, and entered into their spirit as only a European can who is already familiar with the East and its peoples.
These pages are alive with human interest. Not only does the author record his personal adventures, both exciting and amusing, but paints a brilliant picture of the life of the camp, and the lives and feelings of the children of the desert who fought so gallantly for their country and their faith.
Heart-rending accounts of the famine and sickness which abounded in the Turkish camps are relieved by humorous incidents ; and shrewd character sketches give reality to the dramatic descrip- tions of engagements with the enemy.
SHIPMATES.
By A. E. LOANE.
One Vokmie. Crown Svo. 6s.
"Shipmates" gives the social and service history of a character- istic group of naval officers who were born between Trafalgar and Navarino, and served in the days when men often knew more of their messmates than of their brothers, and who twenty years after marriage still counted by weeks the time spent in their own homes.
How little is known of the class of men who formed the backbone of the navy, who devoted long and honourable years to their profession, but never attained eminence! In "Shipmates" the service history of some of these officers is told by themselves and by one another, and the latter part of their life is within the writer's clear recollection.
In these days of social self-consciousness and national assertion and over-anxiety, there is something restful in the remembrance of men who served their fellows instinctively, and who would have forfeited six months' pay cheerfully rather than state publicly that they loved their country and were prepared to resist her enemies.
4 Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements.
BOYD ALEXANDER'S LAST JOURNEY.
With a Memoir by HERBERT ALEXANDER. One Vohime. Illustrated. 12s. 6d. net.
Those who have read Boyd Alexander's book, " From the Niger to the Nile," will look forward with keen, though saddened interest to the publication of the diary of the great explorer's last journey. It can be safely said that in the history of literature no book has come to light under more romantic or tragic circumstances. The diary, which is an almost daily record of an even more adventurous journey than any of Alexander's previous achievements, is written down to within a little more than a week of his murder in Wadai.
In the first part is described his bird-collecting expeditions in the cocoa-islands of San Thome, Principe, and Annabon. Afterwards he crosses to the Kameruns and ascends the famous peak, making a large collection of birds. When at a height of 8,000 feet up the mountain he passes through the great earthquake and eruption of 1909, and gives a graphic record of the terrible experience. From the Kameruns he travels north to Maifoni in Northern Nigeria, where he fits out a caravan of camels and starts on the last and most difficult phase of his journey, intending to follow the desert route of Nachtigal through Wadai and Darfur to Khartoum. At the time the news of his death reached England little or nothing was known of the cause or circumstances of the tragedy. But now, thanks to the great devotion of those of the explorer's friends who accomplished a hazardous journey to find the truth almost upon the spot, his brother Herbert, in a memoir which is published with the diary, is enabled to give the true account of Boyd Alexander's death, which shows that this valuable life was not thrown recklessly away.
JOCK SCOTT, MIDSHIPMAN: HIS LOG.
By "AURORA."
One Volume. Crown Svo. With Illustrations. 5s. net.
The author of this entertaining book, a distinguished naval officer who conceals his identity beneath the pseudonym of " Aurora," has turned his experience to good account, and produced a volume which should appeal to everyone who takes an interest in the British Navy. In these pages the everyday life of a sailor and the internal administration of a battleship are vividly and humorously described by one who is obviously conversant with every detail of the service to which he belongs. Jock Scott's Log will be read with avidity by his fellow-midshipmen all the world over, as well as by that vast public ashore which should derive much amusement and instruction from so graphic an account of *' life on the ocean wave."
Mr. Edward A mold's A iitumn A nnouncements, 5
THE PASSING OF THE MANCHUS.
By PERCY H. KENT,
Author of " Railway Enterprise in China," etc.
One Volume. With Illustrations and Maps. 15s. net.
This important book will throw a flood of light upon the intricate and mysterious chain of events that have disorganized China since the abdication of the child-Emperor. Mr. Kent has resided in Tientsin for many years, with his finger, so to speak, upon the pulse of Chinese policy. His well-known book on the Railways of China has shown how well qualified he is to disentangle and reconstruct a complicated story, and to take a broad and statesmanlike view of events without losing sight of interesting details. Having been on the spot during the whole of the Revolution, Mr. Kent has had unrivalled facilities for acquiring information, which he has turned to the best advantage ; and although it is probable that this last chapter of Chinese history is still incomplete, the narrative will be brought up to the latest possible moment, with the idea of enabling the public to understand what has happened already and to appreciate the strength of the forces that are incubating an unknown future.
THE LETTERS OF MAJOR-GENERAL FITZROY HART-SYNNOT, C.B., C.M.G.
Edited, with a Short Memoir, by his Daughter B. M. HART-SYNNOT.
With Portraits and Maps. Demy 8vo, 12s, 6d. net.
The late Major-General Hart-Synnot, whose letters are now presented to the public, was the son of the original compiler of " Hart's Army List," a classic which he himself subsequently edited for many years. Born in 1844, he entered the army twenty years later, and saw active service in various quarters of the globe until his retirement in 1904. He served with distinction in the Ashanti War of 1873-4, i^ ^t^e Zulu War of 1879, the Boer War of 1881, and the Egyptian War of the following year, and commanded the Fifth (Irish) Brigade in the South African War of 1900. He was twice wounded in the course of his career, and was many times mentioned in dispatches. A large proportion of the letters included in this volume were addressed by General Hart-Synnot to his wife, and are written in the form of a journal — a fact which greatly enhances their interest and enables the reader more easily to conjure up the scenes they picture and the experiences they record. The writer possessed a facile and fluent pen, and the candour vs^ith which he describes his thoughts and actions adds to the attractions of what may well be considered a most interesting record of an adventurous and distinguished career.
6 Mr. Edward Arnold's Atttumn Announcements.
THE ENGLISH HOUSEWIFE IN THE
SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH
CENTURIES.
By ROSE BRADLEY.
One Volume. Demy 8w. Illustrated. 12s. 6d. net.
This book gives some account of the home life of English ladies from shortly before the outbreak of the Civil War until the opening of the nineteenth century. We may see how, in the spacious days before the Commonwealth, the great lady ruled her household and personally superintended her kitchen, her still-room, and her malt-house ; how she practised the much-prized virtue of hospitality, and how she extended her charity to her poorer neighbours and dependents. We may note the deterioration alike of mistress and maid during the pleasure-seeking age of the Restoration, and the gradual re-awakening and development of feminine intelligence and capacities during the course of the eighteenth century, notwith- standing the uninspiring period, from a domestic point of view, of the early Hanoverians. A description is given of the home in which the housewife of the different periods lived, and of the successive influences which were exercised upon her house, her furniture, and her kitchen. Miss Bradley has had access to some hitherto un- published journals and account books which are of value as showing the manner of living and the expenses incurred by private indi- viduals during these two centuries. The book is illustrated by photographs and by plans of the table as it was arranged for the dinners of ceremony of our great-grandmothers. It may be mentioned that Miss Bradley is a daughter of the late Dean of Westminster and sister of Mrs. Woods, the well-known novelist.
THE LIFE OF AN ELEPHANT.
By Sir S. EARDLEY-WILMOT, K.C.I.E.,
Author of "The Life of a Tiger," "Forest Life in India," etc.
With nearly 150 Illustrations from Original Drawings by Miss Eardley-Wilmot.
One volume. Medium 8w. 7s. 6d. net.
This book is by the author of " The Life of a Tiger," published last year. Readers of that work will appreciate the treat in store for them ; but for those who are unacquainted with it, it may be said that whilst Sir S. Eardley-Wilmot probably knows more about his
Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements, ^
subject than any other white man, it is his method of presenting his knowledge which gives his books such fascination. His descriptions of such things as the coming of dawn in an Indian forest have an indefinable charm and make the reader feel he is actually present at the scene described. Of the habits of elephants he has much to say that is of profound interest, and without being discursive, he intro- duces many other features of Indian and sporting life into his tale.
Of " The Life of a Tiger " the Morning Post said : " It is well worthy to be placed on the same shelf as the chronicle of Mowgli's adventures "; and, " The author's daughter is almost the Phil May of jungle life."
MEMORIES OF VICTORIAN LONDON.
By Mrs. L. B. WALFORD,
Author of " Recollections of a Scottish Novelist."
In One Volume. Demy 8w. 12s. 6d. net.
Mrs. Walford, in this volume of '' Memories," deals with certain aspects of London social life during the latter part of the last century.
With a number of the most distinguished personalities of that fertile period she had frequent and easy intercourse. Many of them were at their zenith, some gently sinking into well-earned repose, and more still on the brink of fame. She was, moreover, connected with various dignitaries of the Church and State, who now come beneath the search-light of her vivid pen. Thus we have sketches of "Pam" and "Dizzy," as well as of others of whom less is generally known. Among the last may be mentioned Laurence Oliphant, Charles Reade, George Macdonald, Russell Lowell, George du Maurier, Wilkie Collins, Coventry Patmore, Lord Herschell, Miss Jean Ingelow, Miss Thackeray (now Lady Ritchie), and Mrs. Charles, author of "The Schonberg-Cotta Family."
All of these came to the hospitable mansion where it was her good fortune to be a constant visitor during a considerable number of years, and she thus gained a mine of wealth upon which she draws for these pages. And she draws with a firm hand. A few strokes, and the object— or subject— is there ; while in a more expansive vein, she gives us details of incidents and episodes at once original and entertaining.
Her anecdotes are excellently fresh and pointed ; and, told in the manner which delighted readers of " Mr. Smith " and " The Baby's Grandmother," cannot fail to attract and charm them once agam.
Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements,
WELLINGTON'S ARMY.
By C. W. C. OMAN,
Chichele Professor of Modern History at Oxford ; Author of " The Peninsular War," etc.
Illustrated. Large Crown 8w. 7s. 6d. net.
Professor Oman is probably the greatest living authority upon the subject of this volume, one that can never fail to arouse the deepest interest in all Englishmen. After some remarks upon the sources of information and the literature of the Peninsular War, we have a picture of Wellington, the man and the strategist. In the latter capacity, his infantry tactics and his use of cavalry and artillery are separately discussed, and two chapters are devoted to his famous lieutenants — Hill, Beresford, Graham, Picton, Craufurd, and others. The organization of the army as a whole, and the internal economy of the regiment, are described at some length ; as also is the position of the Foreign Auxiliaries, Portuguese and German. The main- tenance of discipline forms an interesting chapter, and the army on the march, the army as a besieging force, the commissariat, the uniforms and weapons, provide material for a series of concluding chapters. An appendix containing particulars of the war service of individual regiments will be of great interest to the officers of those regiments in the present day.
THE TRINITY FOOT BEAGLES: a Ibistoty ot tbe ^famous Cambridge XHnlt^etsitp Ibunt.
Compiled from the Hunt Records, etc. By F. C. KEMPSON,
GONVILLE AND CaIUS CoLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE;
Author of "The 'Green Finch' Cruise," etc.
Fully Illustrated. Medium Svo. los. 6d. net.
This history of the Trinity Foot Beagles covers a period of some fifty years, during which time the pack has had a long succession of masters and members, many of whom have distinguished themselves in other fields. Among these may be mentioned Colonel Seely, the present Secretary of State for War. Mr. Kempson has arranged his account chronologically, drawing upon the hunt records and using
Mr, Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements. 9
first-hand information supplied by Lord Ernest St Maur, H. S. Gladstone, J. S. Carr-Ellison, C. R. J. Hoare, Courtenay Tracy, Rouse Ball, Dr. Henry Jackson, O.M., H. C. Howard, C. J. Cropper, Kenneth Walker, and many others. After some interesting pre- liminary chapters on the ethics of the sport, and the attitude adopted towards it by the rest of the University, we come to the time when Mr. ' Pat ' Currey, an Assistant Tutor of Trinity, brought his pack over from Ireland in 1867. This began the continuous history of the Beagles, although previously hunting had gone on in a desultory way, but it was Mr. Rowland Hunt — * Mother ' Hunt —now M.P., who may be said to have put the pack upon its present basis. Among his successors were ' Fresher ' Pease and ' Judy ' Carr- Ellison, to whose time a chapter is devoted. Much useful information relating to farmers, food, kennels, and hunt management is included, while funny stories and references to well-known characters abound. Mr. Kempson is reponsible for a number of the pictures, and others have been reproduced from the club book.
A STAFF-OFFICER'S SCRAP-BOOK DURING THE RUSSO-JAPANESE
WAR.
By General Sir IAN HAMILTON, G.C.B., D.S.O.
A New and Popular Edition in One Volume. With all the Original Maps and Plans, and a Frontispiece. Large Crown 8w. 7s. 6d. net.
It is needless to describe at length this well-known and important work which has attained the rank of a classic in military history. It has been translated into Russian, French, and German, and in curtaihng the work for this popular edition, the author has taken as a model the abridgment of the original carried out by two dis- tinguished officers of the German General Staff, for, as he justly says, " the feelings of an author are apt to get in his way when he is asked to use the scissors himself." At the same time, he believes that the result of the pruning is entirely beneficial, and hopes that in its present form it may reach a much wider public than was possible before. All the original plans and maps which were such a valuable feature of the two- volume edition have been retained.
10 Mr, Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements.
DISCIPLINE AND NATIONAL EFFICIENCY.
By the Late Major-General Sir F. MAURICE, K.C.B. With a Memoir by his Son, Major F. MAURICE.
One Volume. Demy 8vo. About los. 6d. net.
Shortly before he was seized by the illness which eventually proved fatal, Sir Frederick Maurice had begun to prepare for publication a number of papers dealing with the principal problems which had occupied his life. He had intended a part of these papers to form a volume treating of the broad aspects of discipline in relation to national efficiency. These have been selected for publication with a short account of his life and work, because, though they may not possess the same intrinsic interest as some of the historical studies he has left, they display more clearly than it is possible for the latter to do the principles and ideals by which he was guided. In this volume he discusses the general efifect of national service in its Continental form on national well-being and efficiency, explains the true nature of military discipline, the part played in military education by the correct performance of routine duties, and why the proper polishing of a button has its military value. In other papers he considers the loss of power and efficiency caused by neglect to see that the young are brought up in conditions such as would give them a reasonable chance of becoming physically capable of performing the duties of citizenship, and shows that the number of men willing to serve in the army and navy would be more than sufficient for our needs if they were all physically effective. Lastly, he selects as an example of the results of discipline the story of the Birkenhead, and shows that the popular and melodramatic version of the wreck has little relation to the true tale of duty quietly performed in the face of death.
The memoir describes Sir Frederick Maurice's early life, the influence upon him of his father, Frederick Denison Maurice, his part in the small wars of the Victorian era, his efforts to assist his friend Lord Wolseley with pen and voice in the reform of our national defences, his work as a military historian and educationalist, and bis efforts in the cause of national physical improvement.
Mr, Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements. ii
A SURVEY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE
1780-1830.
By OLIVER ELTON,
Professor of P2nglish Literature in the University of Liverpool. Author of " Modern Studies," etc.
In Two Volumes. Demy Svo. 21s. net.
This " Survey " is not so much a history as a critical review in an historical setting. It does not profess to be a chronicle of thought, or, in the first instance, of literary currents and tendencies, though these are kept in mind throughout and are summarized in the first and last chapters. The book is above all a series of personal impressions and valuations of artists and of their works, and it deals with the half-century of English Literature which opens with the first work of Blake and Cowper and closes with the last years of Scott. It includes both poetry and prose, and falls into twenty-six chapters. To each of the greater writers, as a rule, the whole or the best part of a chapter is devoted ; for instance, to Blake, Cowper, Wordsworth, Byron, Keats, and Shelley among the poets ; to Scott among the novelists ; to De Quincey, Lamb, and Hazlitt among the critics ; and to Burke among philosophers. The lesser writers are often discussed along with those in whose orbits they move; thus the revival of the ballad is noticed in the chapter on Scott's poetry, Frere's " Whistlecraft " in that on Byron, and Hartley and Sara Coleridge together with their father. The remaining names are grouped ; fiction, apart from Scott, falling into three chapters, the " official reviewers " into one, the " other poets " into two, and so forth. The author has not scrupled to dwell more fully than is usual on figures that seem undeservedly ignored, such as Beckford, Maturin, or John Hamilton Reynolds. But here and throughout he his been moved in the choice and proportioning of his material, not by antiquarian considerations or simple curiosity, but by the wish to give an account of those who, as he puts it in his Preface, " have spoken to him in any kind of living voice." Many references and illustrations, which would have been out of place in the text, are gathered into notes at the end of each volume, and there is an index.
12 Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements.
WALKING ESSAYS.
By ARTHUR HUGH SIDGWICK.
One Volume. Crown Svo. 5s. net.
This book is a collection of eight essays, not previously published, with a dedicatory ode, *' Comitibus," and an epilogue to the reader. It is intended less as a practical guide to walking than as a study, based on experience, of walking in the Home Counties, the Lake District, and elsewhere, and of various questions arising therefrom. Walking is viewed objectively in its relation to other pursuits, to sport and athletics, to hygiene, to music and dancing, to eating and drinking. It is viewed subjectively in its effect on the mind, particularly as tending to form broad views and sound dogmatisms, and to promote friendship. One essay is devoted to the praise oip the " Walker Miles " footpath guides ; another to a brief sketch of the history of walking as revealed in literature. A few illustrative stories are included, some of which are true. Particular attention is paid to the subjects of beer, boots, the weather, waltzing, walking- out, Aristotle, Ibsen, Elizabeth Bennet, the Egoist, John Brown's Body, the Seventh Symphony of Beethoven, walking in London, rowing, hunting, and trespassing. The book is addressed primarily to fellow-walkers : but it is hoped that a wider circle of readers may find matter for interest, reflection, and disagreement therein.
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND LIFE OF FATHER TYRRELL.
By MAUD PETRE.
In Tzc'o Volumes. With numerous Illustrations. Demy Svo, Cloth.
21S. net.
The first volume, which is autobiographical, will cover the period from George Tyrrell's birth in 1861 to the year 1885, including an account of his family, his childhood, schooldays, and youth in Dublin ; his conversion from Agnosticism, through a phase of High Church Protestantism to Catholicism ; his experiences in Cyprus and Malta, where he lived as a probationer before entering the Society of Jesus ; his early life as a Jesuit, with his novitiate and first studies in scholastic philosophy and Thomism. This autobiog- raphy, written in 1901, ends just before the death of his mother
Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Annotmcements. 13
and was not carried any farther. It is edited with notes and supplements to each chapter by M. D. Petre.
The second volume, which takes up the story where the first ends, deals chiefly with the storm and stress period of his later years. Large use is made of his own notes, and of his letters, of which a great number have been lent by correspondents of all shades of thought. Various documents of importance figure in this later volume, in which the editor aims at making the history as complete and objective as possible. Incidentally some account is given of the general movement of thought, which has been loosely described as " modernism," but the chief aim of the writer will be to describe the part which Father Tyrrell himself played in this movement, and the successive stages of his mental development as he brought his scholastic training to bear on the modern problems that confronted him. The work ends with his death on July 15, 1909, and the events immediately subsequent to his death.
THROUGH FACTS TO FAITH.
By the Rev. J. M. THOMPSON,
Fellow and Dean of Divinity, Magdalen College, Oxford; Author of " Miracles in the New Testament," etc.
One Volume. Cvoivn Svo. ^s. 6d. net.
It will be remembered that a year ago Mr. Thompson published a book called " Miracles in the New Testament," in which he con- tended that the miraculous elements in the Gospels and the Acts are not historically trustworthy, and that they may be surrendered with- out prejudice to Christianity. The book was attacked by the Church papers, Mr. Thompson's licence was withdrawn by one Bishop, and he was inhibited by another. Being given the opportunity of deal- ing further with the subject in a course of lectures delivered at St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, in Lent of the present year, he repeated his argument against the belief in miracles, and worked out more in detail the application of his views to theology and Christ- ology. These lectures, considerably rewritten and revised, are now published under the title " Through Facts to Faith." They are headed, "Miracles," " Providence," "Jesus Christ," " Redemption," and '< Worship." They form, as a whole, a constructive sequel to the critical argument of the previous book. Not retracting a word of his former contentions, Mr. Thompson tries to show that the essence of the Christian faith is not weakened, but strengthened, by accepting the conclusions of historical and scientific criticism.
14 Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements.
POLITICS AND RELIGION.
By GABRIEL GILLETT,
Rector of Madresfield, Worcf.stershire.
One Volume. Crown 8vo. ^s. 6d. net.
The author, who was for several years Chaplain to Lord Halifax, begins with a sketch of the apocalyptic theory of early Christianity. It was an otherworldly religion, hence the Christian religion is primarily spiritual, and only indirectly concerned with politics or even with civilization. Then follows a sketch of Christian patriotism and citizenship. The need of independent judgment on the part of citizens is emphasized and the relation of Christianity to democracy discussed : the principles of democracy are essentially Christian, because based on the doctrine of the eternal worth of every human being. The Christian Church has no official solution of economic problems : but real efficiency can only be acquired in conditions of freedom. Until this is fully realized there will be a long struggle between the Christian ideal of democracy and the scientific ideal of democracy. There is need of Christian politicians to combat the un- reality of party controversies in England. Loss of popular control over legislation appears to be a great danger. There is also need of freedom from State control for the Church.
THE CHURCH & NONCONFORMITY.
By the Venerable J. H. GREIG,
Archdeacon of Worcester.
One Volume. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. net.
This book is an effort to examine the present relations between the Anglican Communion and " Organized Nonconformity." But it is even more an attempt to state some principles of reunion and some actual steps in that direction which the author believes could be taken immediately. The goal may be far off, but the road is open now to all who do not despise first steps because they are not the final goal. The writer begins by pointing out how increasingly our disunion threatens Christianity itself. We are kept apart, he says, by actual divergences of view and doctrine; but far more by the temper to vvhich our differences have given rise. The views of the chief Nonconformist bodies on such matters as the Ministry and the Sacraments are analyzed and compared with those of the Church. The immense changes which differentiate the present position from that of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth centuries, and the consequent removal of many barriers, are pointed out ; and finally, though it is freely granted that the way back to corporate reunion is long, it is urged that not a little may be done at once to prepare the way for the future consummation of Unity.
Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements. 15
A BOY IN THE COUNTRY.
By J. STEVENSON,
Author of " Pat M'Carty : his Rhymes."
One VoUmie. With Illustrations. 5s. net.
The scene of this charming book is laid in Ulster, which formed such a happy hunting ground for the author in his previous volume. The boy, recalling in after years the days of his youth, describes his intense love of Nature's varying moods and the stimulus given to a lively imagination by the legends and traditions of an old-world country district. The bulk of the book is in prose, but a few poems are interspersed showing that the hand of '' Pat M'Carty" has not lost its cunning. Like that popular work, " A Boy in the Country " '^ utters native wood-notes wild, which charm by their truth and simplicity." The promise of the author was well summed up by the Spectator, which said : *' Mr. Stevenson has true pathos, humour both of a broad and playful kind, a musical tilt which carries us pleasantly through his descriptive narrative verses, and here and again an impressiveness of thought and a power of phrase-making in prose and verse which should bring him success in both modes of literary expression." It is for the reader to judge how far that promise is fulfilled.
DARLING DOGS.
By Mrs. M. L. WILLIAMS,
Author of "A Manual of Toy Dogs," etc.
With Illustrations. One Vohime. Crown Svo. 5s. net.
"Darling Dogs" gives an account of the lives, ways, and works of two people, young when the book begins, middle aged at its end, whose hearts are set on their four-footed family. As a newly- married pair, delighted with their liberty to surround themselves with the pets denied to them in childhood, they proceed to experi- ment with dogs of various breeds, the characteristics of each intro- duction being described. The droll self-sufficiency of Cheev, the Dandie, with the truculence of his ally. Jumbo, the Area- Pest, are combined with various reminiscences and recollections, doggy and otherwise, of childhood and early life. Later on, as the couple grow in years, and perhaps a little in wisdom, the dogs settle down into a family of one breed, the clever little Dutch tailless dog, the Schipperke. Carried on from generation to genera- tion, these Schipperkes become quite human in their ways ; and then comes a happy time when the two are blissfully happy in the possession of their ideal dog ; and the whole-hearted blessedness lonely people can find in the love of a dog is set forth in the life and career of this prettiest and most charming of pets. Some of the dogs are delightful, some quite the contrary, but they all really lived, and the mistakes as well as the successes of their owners are candidly acknowledged.
i6 Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements.
NEW SIX-SHILLING NOVELS. BELLA.
By EDWARD CHARLES BOOTH,
Author ok "The Cliff End," "The Doctor's Lass," etc.
A story of life at Spathorpe — perhaps the most beautiful and attractive of all the watering-places on the English East Coast. Rupert Brandor, a young and wealthy man, and a poet with some pretention to fame, comes to Spathorpe to spend a few weeks of the season. Under rather amusing circumstances he makes the ac- quaintance on the beach of a young and very fascinating little girl, by name Bella Dysart, who is staying with her mother at Cromwell Lodge — a large and well-known villa on the esplanade. Bella's personal charm and the unsophisticated frankness of her disposition win the poet's interest and affection. Shortly he makes the ac- quaintance of Mrs. Dysart, and with her enters the new, and deeper, and more dangerous element into the poet's story. As the days go by the poet and Bella and Mrs. Dysart draw into a closer circle of friendship. Meanwhile, they have come to be noted by Spathorpe's busy eyes. This beautiful woman and her scarcely less beautiful daughter, and the handsome boy, attract a large measure of public notice ; and the inevitable whispers arise. Mrs. Dysart's reputation suffers tarnish ; her acquaintance with the poet is construed according to the canons of the world. Their un- cloaked intimacy acquires the character of scandal. From this point onward the action of the story accelerates. In the final chapters it is a study in temptation, and the story occupies itself with the youthful and poetic temperament under influence of seductive womanly beauty and the counter-influences of a pure and girlish friendship.
FOLLOWING DARKNESS.
By FORREST REID,
Author of "The Bkacknels."
A study of boyhood and adolescence. The hero is the son of a National schoolmaster in a village on the north coast of Ireland, and the contrast of temperaments ^between father and son is from the beginning strongly marked. A^domestic tragedy having culmin- ated in the disappearance of his mother, the boy becomes the protege of a wealthy lady living in the neighbourhood. Her influence, though quite unconsciously exercised, and still more the influence of her surroundings, of the house above all, which occupies a distinct place in the story, tend to widen still further the breach between him and his father, though both from time to time make efforts to bridge
Mr. Edward A rnold''s A utumn A nnouncements, 1 7
it. The advent of this lady's niece, a charming girl who comes on a visit and by her presence transforms everything, introduces the element of romance, and is the prelude to a story of first love, really the central theme of the book. We follow the hero through his schooldays and on to the beginning of his career. The scene shifts between town and country, and the reader is introduced to a variety of characters drawn from different classes of life. The treatment is realistic alike in the country scenes and in those which take place in the unprosperous stationer's shop in the city.
THE SOUL OF UNREST.
By EMILY JENKINSON,
Author of " Silverwool," etc.
In her new book, " The Soul of Unrest," Miss Jenkinson amply fulfills the promise shown in her first novel, " Silverwool," which was so favourably received by the public two years ago. Here once again the author delineates her various characters with great sympathy and understanding, while her descriptions of their environ- ment is marked by that quiet strength and charm which so distinguished her earlier work. Bride Kilbride, the last of her race, the heir of all its wild past, lives with her father Ninian in the island of Inis-Glora, off the west coast of Scotland. When one day his two sons are drowned, Ninian, in an agony of spiritual revolt, tears down St. Columba's wooden cross that stands on a local eminence, and is forced to leave the island. He joins Robert Yewdale, an enthusiastic social reformer, and devotes his energies to the regener- ation of the slum-inhabitants of the factory town of Northington. Here presently his daughter joins him, and the gradual dawn of mutual love in the hearts of Bride and Yewdale is admirably and exquisitely described. Yewdale stands as a Labour candidate at the general election, and is defeated by Sir Simon Rewley, a wealthy land-owner who has seduced Yewdale's sister. He proposes to lead a band of " hunger-marchers " to London, to lay their grievances before the King ; but his followers get out of hand and burn down Rewley's country seat. Yewdale is sentenced to a long term of imprisonment, and Bride returns to await his release at Inis-Glora, where Ninian finds peace, and with his own hands constructs and erects a cross in the place of the one he demolished. While the author shows by her descriptions of the West Highlands how sensitive she is to the beauties of Nature, the vivid pictures she presents of slum-life in a manufacturing town prove with what sym- pathetic care she must have studied the social problems that every- where confront us. " The Soul of Unrest " is a book that should interest as well as charm the reader, and will undoubtedly add very considerably to its author's reputation.
l8 Mr. Edward Arnold's AitUimn Announcements.
TINKER'S HOLLOW.
By Mrs. F. E. CRICHTON,
Author of "The Soundless Tide," etc.
The story moves in a Presbyterian village of Co. Antrim, in Victorian days. Here Sally Bruce's childhood is passed amid the kindly austerity of old servants and an elderly uncle and aunts. Her acquaintance with the Beausires, an old Huguenot family settled in the same county, leads to the discovery of a kindred spirit in Anthony, the last of the line. Their few meetings are the only outward events of her life, and one spring morning in the Tinker's Hollow they realize their love for each other. The genial spinster, Katharine Brough, has found a name for these rare and magical days of life, with their fleeting possibilities, and "the thirty-first of April" brings its sudden opportunity to several people in Tullysillan — to the frail old uncle in the chains of an evil habit, and to John, the minister's son, Sally's playmate and faithful lover. The fear of a hereditary barrier between Sally and Anthony separates them for a time, and John still hopes until Sally finds Anthony's message in the Tinker's Hollow, helping her to wait on until his return with good tidings. Their lives throughout are interwoven with those of the Irish country people — Rachel the old nurse, Mrs. McGovern of the post-office, and the unhappy young schoolmistress, Esther Conway.
OLD DAYS AND WAYS.
By JANE CONNOLLY. One volume. Crown Svo. 6s. The Connollys are an old Irish family, who were heart and soul with the rebel movement in Ireland in bygone times. The author has many anecdotes to relate of the old days of '98, and has inherited a respect for the superstitions and legends of her ancestors that enables her to tell many curious stories, ghostly and otherwise, with a strong sense of their reality. Her own early life was passed at Woolwich, where the Dockyard still employed thousands of work- men. There was a very distinctive note about the life of the residents, and the author has described them with a humorous fidelity and skill that often reminds the reader of the characters in Jane Austen's novels. The book is full of homely wisdom, amusing stories, and regrets for the good old fashions which have so rapidly passed away.
Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements. 19
THE LIFE OF THE RIGHT HON. CECIL J. RHODES.
By the Hon. Sir LEWIS MICHELL, M.V.O.
New Popular Edition. One Volume. Large crown 8vo. js. 6d. net.
This important and highly successful work has been reduced to the limits of a single volume by dispensing with such portions of the original as it seemed possible to omit while retaining all that is of permanent value in the biography of the man who is perhaps the greatest of modern Englishmen. How well the author achieved his work as a biographer has been fully testified by all shades of opinion in the press. His success may be summarized in the words of the eminent critic who wrote : '' Sir Lewis Michell's lucid and practical exposition of Rhodes's character and policy is good to read, and no Englishman can turn its pages without a quickened pride that Rhodes's great name is compatriot with his own."
CHILDREN OF DON.
By T. E. ELLIS.
With a Photogravure Frontispiece by S. H. SI ME.
One volume. Crown 8vo. 2S. 6d. net.
Many hopes were raised this year by the production at the London Opera House of " Children of Don," by T. E. Ellis and Mr. Joseph Holbrooke. It was generally felt that the collaboration of Lord Howard de Walden as librettist with a musician whom Herr Nikisch considered '' one of the most talented composers living," would result in that successful English opera which the public has so eagerly awaited ever since the failure of Sir Arthur Sullivan's unfortunate " Ivanhoe." Popular interest will doubtless be further stimulated by the publication of Lord Howard de Walden's full libretto, in which, as the Academy points out, the author has tapped a new and native source of legend and advanced a step at least towards the enterprise of writing English opera.
TEN GREAT AND GOOD MEN.
By Dr. H. MONTAGU BUTLER,
Master of Trinity College, Cambridge.
A New and Cheaper Edition of this already popular hook. One Volume. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net.
This volume, which was so well received on its first publication that a new edition at a popular price has been rendered necessary, includes lectures on Burke, the second WilHam Pitt, George Canning, John Wesley, William Wilberforce, Lord Shaftesbury, John Bright, General Gordon, Dr. Arnold, and Thomas Erskine of Linlathen.
20 Mr. Edward Arnold's AtUumn Announcements.
MALINGERING.
By Sir JOHN COLLIE, M.D., J.P.,
Medical Examiner to the London County Council, Chief Medical Officer under the Metropolitan Water Board, etc.
One Volume. Demy Svo. About 7s. 6d. net.
The importance of this work will easily be recognized by all who have responsibilities under the National Health Insurance Act and the Workmen's Compensation Act, or who may have to deal with the subject as employers of labour, insurance companies, solicitors, medical men, etc. The subject is dealt with from every point of view, beginning with the prevention of malingering, proceeding to methods of medical examination in relation to different organs of the body and numerous specific diseases, and concluding with a discus- sion of the position under various Acts of Parliament. It is believed that the book will occupy a unique place and cover ground hitherto unoccupied, while the experience and knowledge of the author give him an unquestioned claim to fill the gap.
QUESTIONS OF THE DAY IN PHILOSOPHY AND PSYCHOLOGY.
By HERBERT LESLIE STEWART, M.A., D.Ph.
Late John Locke Scholar in Mental Philosophy at Oxford, and Junior Fellow in
Mental and Moral Science, Koyal University of Ireland; Lecturer
in Philosophy in the Queen's University of Belfast.
One Volume. Demy Svo. About los. 6d. net.
This volume will be welcomed as a remarkably clear exposition of matters which, though of great interest and importance, are seldom lucidly expounded. It is now admitted that Psychology occupies a position to-day very different from that which it held a generation ago. The change is generally ascribed to a profound and far- reaching transformation of method, and a discussion and criticism of the reform occupies the first part of the book. The remainder illustrates the argument of the opening chapter by showing how new light is being cast by Psychologists on some very old and previously intractable problems in the theory of knowledge and in the social sciences.
Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements. 21
CAUSES OF LABOUR UNREST.
. By FABIAN WARE. One Volume. Crown Svo. About 6s. net.
This volume deals with the political aspect, in the wider sense of the term, of the social movement among the working classes at the present time. The general tendencies to reconstitute the State in the interest of the employed, whether by means of Socialism or revolutionary Syndicalism, are discussed in their bearings on democ- racy and in their relation to earlier movements of which they are a continuation both in Great Britain and on the Continent.
The Author, who is a graduate of Paris University, was formerly Director of Education and Member of the Legislative Council in the Transvaal, and later, Editor of the Morning Post for six years.
UNION AND STRENGTH.
By L. S. AMERY, M.P.,
AuTHOK OF " The Problem of the Army."
Demy Svo. 12s. 6d. net.
This volume consists of a collection of essays and lectures published and delivered during the last few years on the subject of Imperial Unity. The first three chapters discuss the urgent necessity of attaining to some real and enduring constitutional union for the British Empire, and some possible ways by which that object may be achieved ; those which follow deal with various aspects of the question of Imperial Defence, and with Imperial Preference — in other words, the possibility of paving the way towards a constitutional union by the development of mutual trade.
AN ESSAY ON MIRACLE.
By the Rev. GEOFFREY HUGHES,
Vicar of Woolston, Southampton.
Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. net.
The motive of the Author is to meet a real intellectual want rather than to offer a treatise for popular use.
An essay which has this purpose in view must be engaged chiefly with principles ; but in the course of the discussion, which occupies about a hundred pages, the several miracles of the Incarnation are considered in detail. Amongst other subjects are found an estimate of the historical value of the New Testament narrative ; an exposi- tion of the Uniformity of Nature, not as a static identity, but as a continuity of movement ; and a philosophy of Mediation.
22 Mr. Edward Arnold's Atctumn Announcements.
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY
OF THE PROTOZOA.
Mttb Special IReference to tbe parastttc jForms.
By E. A. MINCHIN, F.R.S.,
Professor of Protozoology in the University ok London.
With 194 Figures and Bibliography. Demy 8vo, 21s. net.
An important treatise, dealing with the subject in a thorough and systematic manner, not only for the professed zoologist, but also for all who on the medical side have occasion to study the parasites causing disease. The trypanosomes and other blood-parasites which give rise to "sleeping sickness" and various fevers in both men and animals come in for their full share of attention.
ELECTROPLATING.
By W. R. BARCLAY, A.M.I.E.E., And C. H. HAINSWORTH, A.M.IE.E.,
Lecturers on Electkoplating and Electrical Engineering in the University of Sheffield.
Illustrated. Crown Svo. 7s. 6d. net.
A practical treatise dealing with the fundamental principles of electro-deposition, and also describing with the knowledge of an expert their application in the technical arts of electro-silver-plating, plating with gold, copper, nickel, etc., with a chapter on metal colouring and bronzing. The treatment, though scientific, is through- out simple and lucid, and suited to the needs of the practical man and of the technical student.
A GENERAL HISTORY OF THE WORLD.
By OSCAR BROWNING, M.A.,
Formerly Lecturer in History in the University of Cambridge.
Crown Svo. Cloth. 5s. net. Beginning with an account of the earliest civilizations of which any knowledge has come down to us — those of Egypt and Babylon — Mr. Browning traces the course of the main stream of history down to our own day. For the sake of convenience the book is divided into three conventional periods — ancient, mediaeval, and modern — but there is no real break in the narrative : indeed, a constant recognition of the continuity of history is one of the chief features. How did the modern civiHzed world which we know to-day come into being ? The answer to that question is contained in this volume, set forth with a sense of proportion and perspective which the author has acquired by an unusually long experience as student and teacher in every branch of historical learning.
Mr, Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements. 23
THE ANCIENT WORLD.
Hn IfDistorical SF?etcb*
By C. DU PONTET, M.A.,
Assistant Master at Harrow School.
With Maps. Crown Svo. Cloth. 4s. 6d.
This book will be found useful as an introduction to the study of World History. As the sub-title proclaims, it is a sketch, and its main object is to help the pupil to view ancient history as a whole, to see the various events in their proper perspective, and to comprehend the relations of the different empires to one another, both in point of time and in other respects. It gives a brief survey of ancient history, developing in broad outline the story of the empires of the ancient world from the earliest times to 55 e.g.
CONTENTS.— The Pyramids— The Euphrates Country— The Age of the Patriarchs — A Philosopher-King— Forgotten Empires — The Ancient East, Far and Near — A New Nation — The Trojan War — The Dorians and the Dawn of Greek History — Westward Ho ! — The Tyrants— The Lawgivers — The Un- changing East — The Persian Wars, Greece saves Europe — The Peloponnesian War— A Golden Age — Alexander — Hannibal — The World finds a Master — The Price of Empire.
THE LAST CENTURY IN EUROPE, 1814 — 1910.
By C. E. M. HAWKESWORTH,
Assistant Master at Rugby School.
One Volume. Crown Svo. 5s. net.
In this book an attempt is made to furnish a clear, concise, and continuous narrative of European history from 1814 down to 1910, the domestic concerns of England being deliberately excluded. Each stage in the development of an individual nation is treated as a continuous and uninterrupted whole, but every effort is made to keep it closely connected with contemporary movements elsewhere. Secondary figures and secondary events have been carefully elimin- ated, while every effort has been made to make the principal figures stand out as living human agents, and a good deal of attention has been paid to the elucidation of character and motive. The military history of the period has not been neglected, in the hope that it will add the elements of colour and action to the story. The prominence assumed by colonial questions from 1878 onwards makes the later part of the book inevitably a survey of world politics, and not merely an account of events strictly European, and the attempt has been made to give unity and interest to this section by viewing the progress of events from the standpoint of British influence and policy.
? i
24 My. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements.
AN ENTIRELY NEW SERIES OF
EDUCATIONAL CLASSICS.
General Editor: JOHN WILLIAM ADAMSON,
Professor of Education in the University of London.
The volumes of this series are not books about the great Educators, but the writings of the great Educators themselves in an English dress, accompanied by the minimum of explanatory matter from the pens of scholars especially conversant with the authors whose works they edit.
The following five vohmies will be published in the autumn 0/ 191 2. They 7mll be well printed, uniformly bound, and the price will be 4s. 6d. net
per volume.
VIVES AND THE RENASCENCE EDUCATION OF WOMEN.
Edited by FOSTER WATSON, M.A.,
Professor of Education in the University College, Aberystwyth.
THE EDUCATIONAL WRITINGS OF JOHN LOCKE.
Edited by J. W. ADAMSON,
Professor of Education in the University of London.
ROUSSEAU ON EDUCATION.
Edited by R. L. ARCHER, M.A.,
Professor of Education in the University College, Bangor.
PESTALOZZrS EDUCATIONAL WRITINGS.
Edited by J. A. GREEN,
Professor of Education in the University of Sheffield.
FROEBEL'S CHIEF WRITINGS ON EDUCATION.
Edited by S. S. F. FLETCHER, M.A., Ph.D.,
Lecturer in Education in the University of Cambridge,
And J. WELTON, M.A.,
Professor of Education in the University of Leeds.
A full Prospectus of this Series can he had, post free, on application.
LONDON : EDWARD ARNOLD, 41 & 43 MADDOX STREET, W.
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