The life of an elephant

* 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
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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