Part 2

The first object that met the astonished view of the children, was the elephant. Its height was nearly eleven feet, appearing to their unpractised eyes, a moving mountain. Ellen, with a sensation of fearful surprise, clung to the arm of Alan, who feeling the pressure kissed her, and told her not to be afraid, for that great animal was as gentle as her own little pet lamb, and loved children dearly; “I have seen one,” he added, “that used to rock a little baby like your brother Charles to sleep in its cradle.” Ellen, thus encouraged, ventured to look at it again, and her fear began to subside; yet when she saw the animal, by the command of the keeper, lift a pail full of water from the ground with its proboscis, and pour it into its mouth as into a vessel, she was too much astonished to speak. “I see by its spotted skin this is a Ceylonese,” said Mr. Elmer to the keeper; “they are not so handsome as the white elephants, but they are larger and stronger, and with qualities I believe equally wonderful, and useful to man.” “Yes, your honour, this noble animal is from Ceylon [_Note 1._]; it was given to a British officer by the king of Candy, and truly he was a royal present, for his mildness, sagacity, and docility are most wonderful. Poor fellow,” he added, caressing the elephant, “he not only obeys, but he anticipates all I would have him do, he understands all my signs, he never mistakes my voice, knows perfectly well when I am angry or pleased, listens to what I tell him with attention, and never fails to execute my commands.” “I readily believe it,” replied Mr. Elmer, “for such are the general characteristics of this valuable quadruped.” “Will not the young gentleman like to see how we ride and manage them,” inquired the man, evidently pleased with his affable and intelligent visitor. “Certainly, and the young ladies too,” said Mr. Elmer good temperedly, as he turned to three or four neatly dressed girls just entering the area.

The keeper then made a sign to the elephant (which might in a moment have annihilated the whole party by the exercise of the power with which Providence had invested him, had it not also with restraining wisdom, rendered it subservient to the will of man), when it folded its flexible proboscis gently but firmly round the body of the keeper, and lifted him upon his back; here he sat a few moments, and then removed to the animal’s neck with a little pointed iron rod, intended by pricking the ears of the elephant to guide and urge him on; but this was very seldom necessary, even generally speaking, as these sagacious animals are so docile and so much attached to their keepers that words and caresses are quite sufficient, seldom or ever being refractory unless insulted with improper or cruel chastisement; bending their knees for the accommodation of those who mount them, and moving steadily on with a gravity suitable to their immense bulk. “I should be rather afraid, grandpapa,” said Harry, “to ride upon an elephant, because he could so easily take me off with his trunk.” “Why indeed, my boy, were it not for the confidence which the docility and strong affection of these immense and powerful animals produce in those accustomed to attend and use them, the fear might be very just; but the admirable qualities they possess, effectually dissipate all apprehension in the breasts of those who have the care of them, so strong is the attachment they have for their _cornacs_ or keepers, that there are instances in which they are stated to have died of sorrow, when, irritated by ill treatment, or other causes, they have in a paroxysm of rage killed their guide. These instances of ungovernable fury are very rare, nor do I remember to have myself felt any apprehensions, although I have taken many long journeys on noble elephants: one particularly I remember, whose sagacity, docility, and affection could not be exceeded; if I wished to stop to enjoy and sketch a beautiful prospect, he would remain immoveable until I wished to go forward. If I desired the ripe and delicious mangoes, growing out of the reach of myself or my attendants, he would select the most fruitful branch, and breaking it off with his trunk, offer it to the driver for the refreshment of myself and companions in the houdah, accepting any part we might give to himself with a respectful salam or salute, viz. by raising his trunk three times above his head in the mode of oriental obeisance, expressing at the same time his thankfulness by a murmuring noise. When a bough obstructed the houdah, he twisted his trunk around it, breaking it off with ease, even if of considerable magnitude, and not unfrequently gathering a leafy branch either to keep off the flies, or as a fan to agitate the air around him, by waving it with his trunk. When we had pitched our tents on any spot, he generally paid us a visit at the tent door during breakfast to procure sugar-candy, or fruit, and seemed delighted and cheered by the encomiums and caresses he deservedly met with; indeed no spaniel could be more innocently playful, or fonder of those who noticed him than this truly valuable and wonderful animal, who on particular occasions appeared even conscious of his exaltation above the brute creation.”

This anecdote seemed highly to interest all the visitants present, for they approached during the relation, nearer and nearer to the nice old gentleman who had travelled on the back of an elephant, seeming to regard him with nearly as much admiration and astonishment as they did the animal itself.

A decent man in the group, who appeared particularly struck with the account of Mr. Elmer, was not a little alarmed, however, when the elephant, reaching over the heads of several persons, put his proboscis to the pocket of the man, who afraid to move, looked with a terrified aspect to the keeper, but seemed unable to speak. “You probably, Sir, have fruit in your pocket,” observed the keeper, “which his quick and accurate sense of smell has discovered: do not be alarmed.” A word to the elephant caused him to remove his intrusive proboscis, and the man produced three or four apples, which he now (not however entirely divested of alarm) presented to the unceremonious animal, who took them mildly from his hand, making a low sort of murmur, as of satisfaction.

“They must eat a great deal, grandpapa;” said Joanna softly, as she watched the elephant eating the apples, “what do they eat?” “Their food is entirely vegetable, my dear; the young shoots of trees, different sorts of grain, and fruits of various kinds abounding in the East, from whence they come. Sometimes they do a great deal of mischief by breaking into the plantations, not only ravaging every thing they find, but by trampling the ground with their large and heavy feet: they generally also herd together in large numbers, marching in troops, the oldest leading the way, and the mothers taking the young ones firmly embraced in their trunks.” “But what do the poor elephants do, grandpapa, who are caught and shut up like this; they cannot have nice tender branches of trees to eat?” “When tamed and used for labour, my dear, they require a great deal of care, and a large quantity of food, and that of the best quality, with much rice, both raw and prepared. I once had one who to keep himself in full vigour, required daily a hundred pounds weight of this food, besides fresh herbage to cool him, for they are very subject to be overheated, and must, in those hot countries, be conducted to the water several times in the day for the purpose of bathing. It is curious to observe how they refresh themselves: sucking up the water in the trunk, they carry it to the mouth, drink a part of it, then elevating the trunk, allow the remainder to run over every part of their body.” “What is the quantity and quality of the food this elephant consumes?” inquired Mr. Elmer of the keeper. “He is usually, Sir, fed with hay and straw, but he generally seems to prefer the latter; the quantity he takes I cannot exactly ascertain, as he scatters much that is given him for food, and also eats a great deal of the straw with which he is littered. He eats with great avidity bread, boiled potatoes, and other vegetables; I allow him nine pails of water, given at three different times in the day. He is extremely fond of beer and all kinds of spirituous liquors.” “Yes,” replied Mr. Elmer, “I have seen them take arrack in the East Indies, and it is customary if they shew any repugnance to what may be exacted of them, for the cornac or conductor to promise them arrack or other spirit. It is very dangerous, however, to neglect any promise made to them; many have fallen victims to this indiscretion: for although nothing can provoke an elephant to hurt those who never injured him, yet he remembers, and never fails to revenge an offence, if he has power.” “He will not only do this, Sir,” said the keeper, “but he will obey the command of his cornac desirous of terrifying any one; when told to do so, he will run at the person with great apparent fury, and you may well believe effectually terrifies the object of his attack; but when he gives himself up for lost, the elephant stops short and does him no injury. Should the master chuse to affront any one, he tells his elephant, who quickly collects mud and water in his trunk, and squirts it upon the person pointed out to him.” The keeper now ordered the huge animal to lie down: it instantly obeyed, and the spectators were then invited to view the texture of his skin, to examine its ears, its trunk, and its tusks. They remarked the smallness of its eyes, the large and pendulous ears, the great head, the ponderous body, the arched back, the short and thick legs, and the extreme awkwardness of its appearance altogether; and were thence led to acknowledge, that it is very wrong to judge of the value of any thing by mere externals; but they were never weary in admiring the wise, the wonderful, the admirable structure of the proboscis, and agreed it was justly considered as one of the miracles of nature. They were directed by Mr. Elmer, to observe, that this wonderful organ is composed of an infinite number of flexible rings, and consists of a double tube with a somewhat flattened circular tip, furnished with a projecting point, which may not inaptly be called a finger, possessed of extreme sensibility, and with which it can take up the smallest object. The trunk, formed with this astonishing pliability, turns with ease in every direction, performing the office of a hand and arm: and such is its strength, that it is capable of breaking off long and large branches from the trees, and to lift immense weights.

“How thick and coarse the skin looks, grandpapa,” said Harry; “it looks as if nothing could penetrate it.” “Some parts of it are however, my dear, extremely sensible, and in those parts the poor animal feels the stinging of the flies so painfully that he not only employs the usual instinctive motions to free himself from their attacks, but it would seem the resources of that intelligence with which Providence has endowed him. He strikes them with his tail, his ears and his trunk: he also contracts his skin, and crushes his tormentors between the wrinkles. He drives them off with the branch of a tree, or bundles of long straw; and when all these ingenious artifices fail, he collects a great quantity of dust in his trunk, and covers all the most tender parts of his skin with it. He will thus dust himself several times in a day, and always sagaciously chuses the most effectual period; that is, after bathing.”

“Grandpapa,” whispered Joanna, “you said you travelled many journies on an elephant; you did not ride on the neck as the man did, surely?” “No, my dear, the driver, or cornac as he is styled, rides on the neck, the traveller beneath a sort of awning or tent placed on the back of the animal. The great princes of India allow five men and a boy to each elephant; the chief of these rides upon the neck to guide him, another sits upon the rump when engaged in war, the rest supply him with food and water, and perform the necessary services.

“Elephants indeed, either in peace or war, are more obedient to command than many rational beings. It is stated also, that upon an emergency they can travel two hundred miles in forty-eight hours, and will hold out for a month at the rate of forty or fifty miles a day, with cheerfulness and alacrity; but, my dear children, we must conclude our anecdotes of the elephant, at home I believe, we have made this fine animal a very long visit, and must therefore defer till another day the view of the others worthy attention.” Mr. Elmer having given the keeper a handsome gratuity for his patience and civility, the children thanking him also, they retired to make way for a number of persons, urged by the same laudable curiosity to see the stupendous animal.

CHAP. V.

“Curiosity is one of the strongest and the most lasting appetites implanted in us, and admiration one of our most pleasing passions.”

ADDISON.

The moment of egress from the menagerie seemed to unlock the generally loquacious tongue of little Ellen; a thousand questions were now asked of her good-tempered bearer, respecting the elephants; nor was Mr. Elmer uncalled upon to relate what he had seen of their wonderful qualities, during his residence in Hindostan, “We will now enjoy our walk, my dear children,” he observed, “and when we have dined I will endeavour to recollect all I have seen of the habits and usefulness of these sagacious animals.” “Well grandpapa,” said Harry, “I little thought when I got up this morning that I should see such a great creature, and be so very much entertained as I have been, I hope when I am a man I shall go to India and ride on the back of an elephant. I think I should make them very fond of me, for I would be sure to caress and encourage them, and never promise any thing I did not remember to perform.”

“That is (I suppose, my dear, you mean to say) you would remember to perform what you promised?” “Yes, grandpapa, that is what I mean; dear me! if the elephant could but speak, he would have expressed himself better than me, stupid boy. There, Joanna! look at that bullock in the field, we should call that a great creature, but it seems like a kitten now, or at most a dog compared to the elephant. I wonder what you and I looked like to the elephant: had he eat any thing except grain and fruit, I should have been afraid to have gone near him, he might have swallowed us up in a moment.” “Thus, my dear boy,” remarked Mr. Elmer, “we find every object in the creation impressed with the characters of infinite wisdom, beneficence, and perfection of its great author. Had the elephant been as ferocious as he is powerful, how dreadful the ravages he might commit, how fearful to be the subject of his violence; but with dispositions gentle, and of social habits, they range in solitary grandeur the vast solitudes of the torrid zone, and when ensnared by the power and art of man, to whom all are made subject, they are very soon tamed and rendered the most useful and effective servants of the being to whom supremacy is given.” “You will tell us after dinner, how they are caught and tamed, won’t you grandpapa;” asked Joanna. “Yes, my dear, certainly, I will describe to you what I myself was a witness of when I was very young, and I assure you I enjoyed the sport highly.”

They had now arrived at the villa, and were not sorry to find dinner ready for them; indeed, it had waited some time, so that Mary’s pudding was not quite so light as she wished. “Hey day!” said Mr. Elmer, as he cut it, “I question if the elephant could not have compounded a better pudding.” The children, however, were hungry, and the pudding quickly disappeared. “Hey day!” said grandpapa laughing, “I question if the elephant would have despatched it quicker.” The cloth removed, the little glasses filled, and papa’s and mamma’s health with dear grandpapa’s duly drank, and the fruit enjoyed, Harry sidled to his grandpapa—“I hope I shall not be too troublesome, but I long to hear how they catch the elephants.” “Ah so do I,” added Joanna, and Ellen (climbing on his knee) kissed his cheek as if to bribe him to comply with the wish of Harry.

“Ah, you are all irresistible petitioners,” said the kind old man, while a tear of genuine feeling trembled in his mild eye, and placing Harry between his knees, and a girl upon each of them, he prepared to gratify them. “I have told you, my children, that the elephants generally herd together; these herds consist of from forty to a hundred, and when discovered, about five hundred people are employed to surround them. They are driven by the means of fires placed on moveable pedestals, and by great noises to the spot where they are to be secured. This place consists of three different enclosures, communicating with each other by the means of narrow openings or gate-ways. When the elephants first arrive at the gates and palisadoes, great difficulty is found to make them enter; the leader’s sagacity always making him suspect some snare: but when once he is made to pass, the rest follow without hesitation. Reach me that sheet of paper, Alan,” said Mr. Elmer, as the old man entered the room. “There now, Harry, look here, there are the enclosures; (marking the paper with his pencil) now you see we have the elephants in this: do you understand?” “Oh yes, grandpapa.” “Well, they have passed this gate-way. Immediately fires are stationed round the greatest part of the enclosure, particularly at and near the entrances, to prevent the elephants from returning. A terrible shouting and noise is made by the hunters, beating of drums called tom-toms, firing blank cartridges, to urge the elephants into the next enclosure. They, thus finding themselves entrapped, scream dreadfully, and discovering no opening but the entrance into the next enclosure, they after traversing repeatedly their present situation, following their leader, at length enter the second enclosure, which is smaller than the first. The gate is instantly closed upon them, the same process of fires, shouts, &c. force them to pass into the last enclosure. Being now completely surrounded, and finding no outlet, the poor ensnared animals become desperate, frequently advancing furiously to the surrounding ditch to break down the palisade, screaming aloud, and swelling their trunks; but wherever they attempt an attack, they are repelled by the noise of the hunters and opposed by the fires. The ditch is then filled with water, and the fatigued elephants have very soon recourse to it in order to cool themselves, and to quench the thirst produced by their exertions and fury. Having continued in this situation for a few days, during which they are scantily fed from a scaffold on the outside, the door of an outlet about sixty feet long and very narrow is opened, and one of the elephants is induced to enter by having food thrown before it. When advanced far enough, the gate is closed upon him, when finding his retreat cut off, and that he cannot turn himself, he advances furiously, endeavouring to break the bars in front of him. He even rises up in his rage and leaps upon the bars with his fore feet; thus he continues his efforts to obtain liberty, until he becomes exhausted; ropes are then by degrees carefully passed round him, and he is secured. Sometimes instead of being enticed into the _Roomee_ or narrow passage, they are taken by the aid of tamed elephants, who engage the attention of the wild ones, while they are secured by ropes. The elephants being thus ensnared are separated, and each placed under the care of a keeper appointed to attend and instruct him. This principal attendant, has three or four subordinate assistants, who supply the elephant with his food and water, until he is sufficiently tamed to feed himself. To effect this, a variety of methods are resorted to, soothing and caressing, sometimes threatenings and even goading with a long stick pointed with iron; but more generally the keeper flatters and coaxes him, scratching his head and trunk with a long bamboo split at one end into several pieces, and driving away the flies from his sores and bruises, produced by his desperate struggles for liberty. He also is very attentive to keep him cool, by squirting water frequently all over him, taking care to keep out of the reach of his trunk.

“In a few days he even advances cautiously to his side, speaks to him soothingly, pats him, and strokes him with his hand, and in a very little while he conciliates the immense animal, who knows him and obeys his commands. The keeper now becomes more familiar, ventures to mount him from the back of a tame elephant, and thus gradually increasing in intimacy, he is at last permitted to seat himself upon the neck, from which place he is to regulate and direct the motions of the subdued animal. While they are training in this manner the tame elephants lead the others out alternately for exercise, and likewise to ease their legs from the cords, with which they are tied, and which gall them dreadfully, unless frequently slackened and shifted.

“In about five or six weeks the elephant becomes obedient to his keeper, his fetters are then removed by degrees, and generally in about six months he suffers himself to be conducted from one place to another. In some parts of the East these huge animals are taken by means of pitfalls. Through the forest several paths are cut, in these are dug deep and large holes, which are carefully concealed by being covered over with branches and loose earth. The elephants in passing over, of course fall into the pit, the hunters secure them while in this helpless state, and dragging them out, tame them in the following manner. The elephant is placed between two tame ones; they are surrounded by men, each holding a pike with a lighted torch at the end of it, who talk to the animal and call out to him as they offer him meat, ‘take it, take it, take it.’

“The wild elephants refusing obedience, signs are made to the tame ones to beat him, which they immediately do by giving him desperate blows on the head with their trunk, and if the poor beast offers any resistance, the blows are repeated till exhausted he at length is rendered obedient, and appears to become perfectly reconciled to his fate. It is worthy of observation, that although this noble animal uses his utmost force to disengage himself when ensnared, and would certainly kill any one coming within his reach, yet he seldom or never attempts to hurt those tame elephants that have aided in ensnaring him; but on the contrary, seems as often as they are brought near, in order to adjust his harnessing, or move or slacken the ropes that gall him, to be pleased, soothed, and consoled by them, as it were, for the loss of his liberty.”