Wild Beasts and Their Ways, Reminiscences of Europe, Asia, Africa and America. Volume 1

There was a very large and lofty tree quite three feet in diameter; upon the upper branches grew the much-loved fruit, similar in appearance to good-sized dates, and equally sweet and aromatic (Balanites Egyptiaca). Elephants will travel great distances to arrive at a forest where such fruit is produced in quantity, and they appear to know the season when the crop will be thoroughly ripe. Upon this occasion, the elephant, having picked up the single fruits which lay scattered upon the ground, presently looked up, and being satisfied with the appearance of the higher boughs, he determined to shake down a plentiful supply. Retiring for a few feet, he deliberately rammed his forehead against the stem, with such force as to shake the tree from top to bottom, causing a most successful shower of the coveted fruit, which he immediately commenced to eat.

Commander R. N. J. Baker was my companion, and we agreed that any person who might have taken refuge in the branches of that large tree must have held on exceedingly tight to have avoided a fall, so severe was the concussion.

When it is considered that a large bull elephant weighs between six and seven tons, which weight is set in movement by the muscular exertion of the animal, there is at once an explanation of the force against a tree, which, although large, would hardly exceed that weight.

The memory of elephants must be peculiarly keen, as they remember the seasons for visiting certain districts where some particular food is produced in attractive quantities. In the southern district of Ceylon, between Yalle river and the sea-coast, there are great numbers of the Bael tree, the fruit of which resembles a large cricket-ball. The shell is hard, and when ripe it becomes brown, and can only be broken by a sharp blow with some hard substance. The contents are highly aromatic, consisting of a brownish substance exceedingly sweet, and mixed with small seeds resembling those inside a pear. There is a strong flavour of medlar in this fruit, and it is much esteemed for medicinal properties, especially in cases of diarrhoea. Although elephants refuse the Bael fruit unless quite ripe, they will invariably arrive in great numbers during the favourable season in the southern districts of Ceylon. The question arises, "How can an animal remember the month without an almanack?"

There is no doubt that animals possess in many instances a far greater degree of reason than is generally admitted, with which the exercise of memory is so closely allied that it is difficult to separate or define the attributes. An elephant will remember those who have shown kindness, perhaps for a longer period than it will others who may have offended. After seven months' absence in England, an elephant that I had from the Commissariat on my previous visit to India recognised me at once upon my return. I had been in the habit of feeding this animal with sugar-canes and other choice food almost daily during several months' companionship in the jungle; this was not forgotten, and "cupboard love" was harboured in its memory with the expectation that the feeding would be repeated.

In the same manner, but perhaps in a lesser degree, the elephant will remember those whom it dislikes, and during the season of "must" it would be exceedingly dangerous for such persons to venture within reach of the animal's trunk. Stories are numerous concerning the animosity of elephants against their mahouts or other attendants who have cruelly treated them; but, on the other hand, the animals frequently exhibit a wild ferocity towards those who have been innocent of harshness. As characters vary among human beings, and some persons when intoxicated become suddenly brutal, although when sober they have been mild in reputation, so also we find conflicting natures among elephants, and the insane excitement of the "must" period varies in intensity in different animals.

There was a well-known elephant some years ago in the Balaghat district of the Central Provinces which became historical through the extraordinary malignity of its disposition. Having escaped from the fetters, it killed the mahout, and at once made off towards the forests. It is a curious example of nature that creatures (ferae naturae) have a tendency to return to their original state of savagedom when the opportunity is offered. If an elephant is seized with a panic when upon open ground, it will rush for the nearest jungle, probably with the intention of concealment. The animal in question returned to its wild state directly it had escaped from confinement, but the domestication of many years appears to have sharpened its intellect, and to have exaggerated its powers for mischief and cunning. It became the scourge, not only of the immediate neighbourhood, but of a considerable portion of a district which included an area of a hundred miles in length by forty or fifty in width.

No village was safe from the attack of this infuriated beast. It would travel great distances, and appear at unexpected intervals, suddenly presenting itself to the horrified villagers, who fled in all directions, leaving their homes and their supplies of grain to be demolished by the omnipotent intruder, who tore down their dwellings, ransacked their stores of corn, and killed any unfortunate person who came within its reach.

There was a cruel love of homicide in this animal that has rarely been recorded. Not only would it attack villages in pursuit of forage, but it was particularly addicted to the destruction of the lofty watching-places in the fields, occupied nightly by the villagers to scare wild animals from their crops. These watch-houses are generally constructed upon strong poles secured by cross-pieces, on the top of which, about sixteen feet from the ground, is a small hut upon a platform. This is thatched to protect the occupant from the heavy dew or rain. From such elevated posts the watchers yell and scream throughout the night to frighten the wild beasts. To attack and tear down such posts was the delight of this bloodthirsty elephant. Instead of being scared by the shouts of the inmates, it was attracted by their cries, and, unseen in the dark, it was upon them almost before they were aware of its presence. The strong posts upon which the constructions had been raised offered no resistance to the attack, and the miserable watchers found themselves hurled to the ground together with the ruins of their upturned shelter. In another moment they were either caught and stamped to death, or chased through the darkness by the pursuing elephant, and when captured they were torn limb from limb, as the brute exhibited a cruel satisfaction in placing one foot upon the victim, and then tearing with its trunk an arm, a leg, or the head from the mangled body.

In this manner the elephant killed upwards of twenty people throughout the district, and it became absolutely necessary, if possible, to destroy it.

This was at last effected by Colonel Bloomfield and a friend, who determined at all hazards to hunt it down by following through the jungles, guided by the reports of the natives, who were on the lookout in all directions. The animal showed peculiar cunning, as it never remained in the same place, but travelled a considerable distance immediately after the committal of some atrocity, and concealed itself within the jungles until prompted to another raid in some new direction. I am indebted to Colonel Bloomfield for an interesting description of the manner in which, after many days of great fatigue and patience, he at length succeeded, with the assistance of native trackers, in discovering this formidable opponent, asleep within a dense mass of thorns and grass in the heart of an extensive jungle. The elephant awoke before they could distinctly see its form, owing to the extreme thickness of the covert, but the fight commenced. There was a considerable difference between the attack upon defenceless villagers, who fled before it in hopeless panic, and a stand-up fight with two experienced European shikaris armed with the best rifles; the terror of the district quickly showed its appreciation of discretion, and, badly wounded, it retreated through the forest, well followed by the determined hunters. Again and again it was overtaken, and a shot was taken whenever the dense jungle afforded an opportunity. At length, maddened by pursuit and wounds, it turned to charge, thereby exposing itself in an open place, and both bullets crashed into its brain, the shot from Colonel Bloomfield's rifle passing completely through its head.

It would be impossible to determine whether such an elephant could have been subdued and re-domesticated had its capture been effected. There are many cases on record where a "must" elephant has committed grievous depredations, after killing those who were its ordinary attendants, but when re-captured, the temporary excitement has passed away, and the animal has become as harmless as it was before the period of insanity. Mr. G. P. Sanderson, the superintendent of the Government keddahs in Assam, gives a vivid description of an elephant that escaped after killing its mahout and several villagers in the neighbourhood. This animal, like Colonel Bloomfield's elephant, already described, became the terror of the district, and destroyed many villagers, until it was decided by the authorities to attempt its destruction.

Mr. Sanderson was of opinion that it was too valuable to be heedlessly sacrificed; he therefore determined to capture it alive, if possible, through the aid of certain clever elephants belonging to the keddah establishment.

The police of the district were ordered to obtain the necessary information, and the malefactor was reported after a few days to have destroyed another village, where it remained, devouring the rice and grain in the absence of the panic-stricken villagers.

No time was lost in repairing to the spot with three highly-trained elephants, two of which were females; the third was a well-known fighting male, a tusker named Moota Gutche, who was usually employed to dominate the obstreperous wild elephants when refractory in the keddah enclosures. The necessary ropes and chains were prepared, and the small but experienced party started, Mr. Sanderson being armed only with a long spear, and riding on the pad, well girthed upon the back of Moota Gutche.

A short hour's march brought them in sight of a ruined village on a level plain, which skirted a dense forest. When within a quarter of a mile, a large male elephant was discovered restlessly walking to and fro as though keeping guard over the ruins he had made. This was the culprit taken in the act.

Leaving the two females in the rear, with instructions to follow upon a given signal, Mr. Sanderson on Moota Gutche advanced slowly to the encounter. The rogue elephant did not appear to notice them until within about 200 yards; it then suddenly halted, and turning round, it faced them as though in astonishment at being disturbed. This attitude did not last very long, as Moota Gutche still advanced until within ninety or a hundred paces. The elephants now faced each other, and Moota Gutche began to lower his head when he observed his antagonist backing a few paces, which he well knew was the customary preparation for a charge. "Reculez pour mieux sauter" was well exemplified when in another moment the vagrant elephant dashed forward at great speed to the attack, trumpeting and screaming with mad fury. In the meantime Moota Gutche coolly advanced at a moderate pace. The shock of the encounter was tremendous. The spear flew out of the rider's hands with the collision, but Moota Gutche was a trained fighter, and having lowered his head, which had for the moment exposed his mahout, he quickly caught his opponent under the throat with its neck between his tusks, and then bearing upwards, he forced the head of his adversary high in the air; now driving forwards with all his strength, he hurled the other backwards, and with a dexterous twist he threw it upon its side and pinned it to the ground. In an instant Mr. Sanderson slipped off and secured the hind legs with a strong rope. The two females quickly arrived, and within a few minutes the late terror of the neighbourhood was helplessly fettered, and was led captive between the females towards the camp from which it had escaped, assisted, when obstreperous, by the tusks of Moota Gutche applied behind.

This elephant completely recovered from its temporary madness, and became a useful animal, affording a striking example of the passing insanity of the male passion, and the power of careful management in subduing a brute of such stupendous force.

After this incident Moota Gutche, with about forty of the keddah elephants, was kindly lent to me by Mr. Sanderson during a shooting excursion of twenty-five days upon the "churs" or islands of the Brahmaputra river south of Dhubri. In India the tiger is so commonly associated with the elephant that in describing one it is impossible to avoid a connection with the other.

Moota Gutche was a peculiar character, not altogether amiable, but it was as well to have him upon your own side. During the trip my friend Sanderson was ill with fever, and could not accompany me. I was therefore at the disadvantage of being the only gun in a long line of elephants, which would on ordinary occasions have been manned by at least four guns. At first I imagined that my trip would be a failure, as I knew a mere nothing of the language, and the elephants and their mahouts were alike strangers to me, but I soon discovered that their excellent training as keddah servants constantly employed in the capture of wild elephants under their indefatigable superintendent, Mr. Sanderson, rendered them capable almost instinctively of understanding all my ways, and we became excellent friends, both man and beast.

I arranged my long line of elephants according to their paces and dispositions, and each day they preserved the same positions, so that every mahout knew his place, and the elephants were accustomed to the animals upon the right and left. In the centre were the slowest, and upon either flank were the fastest elephants, while two exceedingly speedy animals, with intelligent mahouts, invariably acted as scouts, generally a quarter of a mile ahead on either flank.

My own elephant was accompanied on one side by Moota Gutche, on the other by a rough but dependable character whose name I have forgotten. I kept these always with me, as they were useful in the event of a tiger that would not bolt from the dense wild-rose thickets, in which case our three elephants could push him out.

This arrangement was perfect, and after a few days' experience our line worked with the precision of well-drilled cavalry; sometimes, with extra elephants, I had as many as fifty in the field. The result of this discipline was that no tiger or leopard ever escaped if once on foot; although hunted in some instances for hours, the animal was invariably killed. A remarkable instance of this occurred at the large island of Bargh Chur, which includes several thousand acres, the greater portion being covered with enormous grass and dense thickets of tamarisk, which, in the hot season, is the cool and loved resort of tigers. There were also extensive jungles in swampy portions of the island, so intermixed with reeds and marsh grass of twelve or fourteen feet high, that it was difficult to penetrate, even upon an elephant.

I was out at the usual early hour, shortly after sunrise, the shikaris having returned to camp with the news that none of the bullocks tied up for baits during the preceding night had been killed; it therefore remained to try our fortune by simply beating the high grass jungle in line, on speculation, and in the same manner to drive the occasional dense coverts of feathery tamarisk.

We had proceeded with a line of about five-and-thirty elephants, well extended ten yards apart, and in this manner we had advanced about a mile, when our attention was attracted by a native calling to us from a large ant-hill which enabled him to be distinguished above the grass. We immediately rode towards him, and were informed that a tiger had killed his cow the night before, and had dragged the body into jungle so dense that he had been afraid to follow. This was good news; we therefore took the man upon an elephant as our guide towards the reported spot.

The elephants continued to advance in line, occasionally disturbing wild pigs and hog deer, which existed in great numbers, but could hardly have been shot even had I wished, as the grass was so thick and long that the animals could not be seen; there were only signs of their disturbance by the sudden rush and the waving of the grass just in front of the advancing elephants, who were thus kept in continual excitement.

In about twenty minutes we emerged from the high grass upon a great extent of highly cultivated land, where the sandy loam had been reduced to the fine surface of a well-kept garden. Bordering upon this open country was an extensive jungle composed of trees averaging about a foot in diameter, but completely wedged together among impenetrable reeds fully eighteen feet in length, and nearly an inch in thickness, in addition to a network of various tough creepers, resulting from a rich soil that was a morass during the rainy season. Although the reeds appeared tolerably dry, they would not burn, as there were signs among some half-scorched places where attempts had been recently made to fire the jungle.

Our guide soon pointed to the spot where his cow had been dragged by the tiger into this formidable covert. There was no mistake about the marks, and the immense tracks in the soft ground proved the size and sex of the destroyer.

Nobody questioned the fact of the tiger being at home, and the only question was "how to beat him out." The jungle was quite a mile in length without a break in its terrible density; it was about half a mile in width, bounded upon one side by the cleared level ground in cultivation, and on the other by the high grass jungle we had left, but this had been partially scorched along the edge in the attempts to burn.

A good look-out would have spied any animal at a hundred and fifty yards had it attempted to leave the jungle.

As the country was a dead level, it was difficult to forecast the retreat of a tiger when driven from such a thicket, and it was a serious question whether it would be possible to dislodge him.

Whenever you commence a drive, the first consideration should be, "If the animal is there, where did it come from?"–as it will in all probability attempt to retreat to that same locality. There was no possibility of guessing the truth in such a country of dense grass, and with numerous islands of the same character throughout this portion of the Brahmaputra, but there was one advantage in the fact that one side was secure, as the tiger would never break covert upon the cultivated land; there remained the opposite side, which would require strict watching, as he would probably endeavour to slink away through the high grass to some distant and favourite retreat.

I therefore determined to take my stand at the end of the thick jungle which we had passed upon arrival, at the corner where it joined the parched grass that had been fire-scorched, and near the spot where the cow had been dragged in. I accordingly sent the elephants round to commence the drive about two hundred yards distant, entering from the cultivated side and driving towards me, as I concluded the tiger in such massive jungle would not be far from the dead body. At the same time, I sent two scouting elephants to occupy positions outside the jungle on the high grass side, within sight of myself; I being posted on my elephant at the corner, so that I commanded two views–the end, and the grass side.

My signal, a loud whistle, having been given, the line of elephants advanced towards my position. The crashing of so many huge beasts through the dense crisp herbage sounded in the distance like a strong wind, varied now and then by the tearing crunch as some opposing branches were torn down to clear the way.

I was mounted upon a female elephant, a good creature named Nielmonne, who was reputed to be staunch, but as the line of beaters approached nearer, and the varied sounds increased in intensity, she became very nervous and restless, starting should a small deer dart out of the jungle, and evidently expecting momentarily the appearance of the enemy. There are very few elephants that will remain unmoved when awaiting the advance of a line of beaters, whether they may be of their own species or human beings. On this occasion the rushing sound of the yielding jungle, which was so thick as to test the elephants' powers in clearing a passage through it, was presently varied by a sharp trumpet, then by a low growl, followed by that peculiar noise emitted by elephants when excited, resembling blows upon a tambourine or kettle-drum. This is a sound that invariably is heard whenever an elephant detects the fresh scent of a tiger; and Nielmonne, instead of standing quiet, became doubly excited, as she evidently understood that the dreaded game was on foot, and advancing before the line.

As I was posted at the sharp angle of the corner, I presently observed several elephants emerge upon my left and right, as the line advanced with wonderful regularity, and so close were the animals together that it was most unlikely any tiger could have broken back.

My servant Michael was behind me in the howdah. He was a quiet man, who thoroughly understood his work, and seldom spoke without being first addressed. On this occasion he broke through the rule. "Nothing in this beat, sahib," he exclaimed . . . . "Hold your tongue, Michael, till the cover's beaten out. Haven't I often told you that you can't tell what's in the jungle until the last corner is gone through?"

Nearly all the elephants were now out, and only about half a dozen remained in the jungle, all still advancing in correct line, and perhaps a dozen yards remaining of dense reeds and creepers forming the acute angle at the extremity. They still came on. Two or three of the mahouts shouted, "The tiger's behind, we must go back and take a longer beat." Nothing remained now except six or seven yards of the sharp corner, and the elephants marched forward, when a tremendous roar suddenly startled them in all directions, and one of the largest tigers I have ever seen sprang forward directly towards Nielmonne, who, I am ashamed to say, spun round as though upon a pivot, and prevented me from taking a most splendid shot. The next instant the tiger had bounded back with several fierce roars, sending the line of elephants flying, and once more securing safety in the almost impervious jungle from which he had been driven.

This was a most successful drive, but a terrible failure, owing entirely to the nervousness of my elephant. I never saw a worse jungle, and now that the tiger had been moved, it would be doubly awkward to deal with him, as he would either turn vicious and spring upon an elephant unawares from so dense a covert, or slink from place to place as the line advanced, but would never again face the open.

I looked at my watch; it was exactly half-past eight. The mahouts suggested that we should not disturb him, but give him time to sleep, and then beat for him in the afternoon. I did not believe in sleep after he had been so rudely aroused by a long line of elephants, but I clearly perceived that the mahouts did not enjoy the fun of beating in such dreadful jungle, and this they presently confessed, and expressed a wish to have me in the centre of the line, as there was no gun with the elephants should the tiger attack.

I knew that I should be useless, as it would be impossible to see a foot ahead in such dense bush, but to give them confidence I put my elephant in line, and sent forward several scouting elephants to form a line along a narrow footpath which cut the jungle at right angles about a quarter of a mile distant.

Once more the line advanced, the elephants marching shoulder to shoulder, and thus bearing down everything before them, as I determined to take the jungle backwards and forwards in this close order lest the wary tiger might crouch, and escape by lying close.

Several times the elephants sounded, and we knew that he must be close at hand, but it was absolutely impossible to see anything beyond the thick reedy mass, through which the line of elephants bored as through a solid obstacle.

Three times with the greatest patience we worked the jungle in this searching manner, when on the third advance I left the line, finding the impossibility of seeing anything, and took up my position outside the jungle on the cultivated land, exactly where the footpath was occupied by the scout elephants at intervals, which intersected the line of advance.