Part 17 (1/2)
The Elephant.
Of the elephant there is now but one genus and two species; respectively the Indian and the African varieties. At least fourteen species are known to be extinct.
The elephant is the largest of the quadrupeds; his height is from eight to fourteen feet; his length is ten to fifteen feet. His form resembles that of a hog; his eyes are small and lively; his ears are broad, long, and pendulous. He has two large tusks, and a trunk or proboscis at the extremity of the nose, which he uses to take his food with, and, in case of necessity, for attack or defence. His legs are thick and long, and his feet are divided into five rounded toes. His colour is a dark ash brown. There are elephants, however, of a white or cream colour. The African is distinguished from the Indian variety by the size of its ears, which in the African species are very large. Dr. Livingstone gave the measurement of the ears of a female he killed, as four feet five inches in depth and four feet in horizontal breadth, and said he had seen a native creep under one so as to be completely covered from the rain. The ear of the Indian variety is not more than a third of this size. Generally the elephants of Africa and especially those of the south are larger than those of India. The most striking characteristic of the elephant is his trunk. ”In this,” says the Rev. J. G. Wood, ”there are about forty thousand muscles, enabling the elephant to shorten, lengthen, coil up, or move in any direction this most extraordinary organ. The trunk is pierced throughout its length by two ca.n.a.ls, through which liquids can be drawn by suction. If the elephant wishes to drink, after drawing the liquid into its trunk, it inserts the end of its proboscis into its mouth, and discharges the contents down its throat; but if it merely wishes to wash itself or play, it blows the contained liquid from the trunk with great violence. Through the trunk the curious trumpet-like voice of the elephant is produced. At the extremity is a finger-like appendage, with which it can pick up small objects.” The elephant is thirty years old before he attains maturity.
He lives on foliage, herbs, and fruits, having a special taste for those which are sweet.
The Wild Elephant.
The elephant is naturally a quiet and inoffensive animal, and being gifted with an unusually keen scent and sense of hearing, will usually decamp on the approach of danger. If wounded, however, he will sometimes turn upon his aggressor with terrible vengeance. Mr. Burch.e.l.l, the South African traveller, gives a painful ill.u.s.tration of this. He says:--”Carl Krieger was a fearless hunter, and being an excellent marksman, often ventured into the most dangerous situations. One day having, with his party, pursued an elephant which he had wounded, the irritated animal suddenly turned round, and singling out from the rest the person by whom he had been injured, seized him with his trunk, and lifting his wretched victim high in the air, dashed him with dreadful force to the ground. His companions, struck with horror, fled precipitately from the fatal scene, unable to look back upon the rest of the dreadful tragedy; but on the following day they repaired to the spot, where they collected the few bones that could be found, and buried them. The enraged animal had not only literally trampled Krieger's body to pieces, but did not feel its vengeance satisfied till it had pounded the very flesh and bones into the dust, so that nothing of the unfortunate man remained excepting a few of the latter, which made most resistance from their size.” Another elephant seized a soldier of the Royal African Corps, threw him down, brought his four feet together and stamped upon him until he was dead; then seizing the body with his trunk, threw it into the jungle.
Elephant Herds.
Major Skinner in a communication made to Sir E. Tennant gives the following graphic description of the actions of a herd of elephants he watched on one occasion in the north of Ceylon. Knowing that from the scarcety of water at that time and place a large herd of elephants which he knew to be in the neighbourhood must visit a certain pool during the night he made his preparations accordingly. He says:--”Having ordered the fires of my camp to be extinguished at an early hour, and all my followers to retire to rest, I took up my post of observation on an overhanging bough; but I had to remain for upwards of two hours before anything was to be seen or heard of the elephants, although I knew they were within 500 yards of me. At length, about the distance of 300 yards from the water, an unusually large elephant issued from the dense cover, and advanced cautiously across the open ground to within 100 yards of the tank, where he stood perfectly motionless. So quiet had the elephants become (although they had been roaring and breaking the jungle throughout the day and evening) that not a movement was now to be heard.
The huge vidette remained in his position, still as a rock, for a few minutes, and then made three successive stealthy advances of several yards (halting for some minutes between each, with ears bent forward to catch the slightest sound), and in this way he moved slowly up to the water's edge. Still he did not venture to quench his thirst; for though his forefeet were partially in the tank, and his vast body was reflected clear in the water, he remained for some minutes listening in perfect stillness. Not a motion could be perceived in himself or his shadow. He returned cautiously and slowly to the position he had at first taken up on emerging from the forest. Here in a little while he was joined by five others, with which he again proceeded as cautiously but less slowly than before, to within a few yards of the tank, and then posted his patrols. He then re-entered the forest and collected around him the whole herd, which must have amounted to between eighty and a hundred individuals, led them across the open ground with the most extraordinary composure and quietness till he joined the advance guard, when he left them for a moment and repeated his former reconnaissance at the edge of the tank. After which and having apparently satisfied himself that all was safe, he returned and obviously gave the order to advance, for in a moment the whole herd rushed into the water with a degree of unreserved confidence, so opposite to the caution and timidity which had marked their previous movements, that nothing will ever persuade me that there was not rational and preconcerted co-operation throughout the whole party, and a degree of responsible authority exercised by the patriarch leader.
”When the poor animals had gained possession of the tank (the leader being the last to enter), they seemed to abandon themselves to enjoyment without restraint or apprehension of danger. Such a ma.s.s of animal life I had never before seen huddled together in so narrow a s.p.a.ce. It seemed to me as if they would have nearly drunk the tank dry. I watched them with great interest until they had satisfied themselves as well in bathing as in drinking, when I tried how small a noise would apprise them of the proximity of unwelcome neighbours. I had but to break a little twig, and the solid ma.s.s instantly took flight like a herd of frightened deer, each of the smaller calves being apparently shouldered and carried along between two of the older ones. In drinking, the elephant, like the camel, although preferring water pure, shows no decided aversion to it when discoloured with mud; and the eagerness with which he precipitates himself into the tanks and streams attests his exquisite enjoyment of the fresh coolness, which to him is the chief attraction. In crossing deep rivers, although his rotundity and buoyancy enable him to swim with a less immersion than other quadrupeds, he generally prefers to sink till no part of his huge body is visible except the lip of his trunk through which he breathes, moving beneath the surface, and only now and then raising his head to look that he is keeping the proper direction.”
Elephant Friends.h.i.+ps.
The affection shown by elephants for each other has often had pathetic ill.u.s.tration. Two elephants, male and female, which had been brought separately to Paris, were placed in adjoining apartments divided by a portcullis. The male soon discovered that this was fastened by a bolt well within his reach, and hastily withdrawing it rushed into the other apartment. The meeting is described as indescribable. Their cries of joy, says Mrs. Bowdich, shook the whole building, and they blew air from their trunks resembling the blasts from smiths' bellows. The female moved her ears with great rapidity, and entwined her trunk round the body of the male. The male encircled her with his trunk and shed tears.
The Elephant's Sagacity.
The sagacity of the elephant has been said sometimes to equal that of the dog. A striking ill.u.s.tration of it is related in Pett.i.t's work on the Tinnevelly Missions. ”While the large chapel at Nagercoil was building the missionaries obtained the loan of a trained elephant for drawing the larger timber used in its erection. The late Mrs. Mault kindly saw the animal regularly fed, lest the food should be stolen by the attendant. One day the allowance of rice seemed very deficient in quant.i.ty, and the good lady expostulated on the subject with the keeper.
Raising his hands to heaven, the man loudly, and with great apparent earnestness and sincerity, repudiated the idea of his having taken any of the rice. 'Do you think, madam, that I would rob my child? No, never!
no more than I would deprive my own children of their daily food.' While he was speaking and gesticulating, the intelligent creature, slyly extending his trunk, unfastened the man's waist-cloth, spilling the missing rice, which had been concealed in a corner of the cloth, and exposing the dishonesty of the attendant.”
A Centenarian Elephant.
Some years ago there was an elephant who was known to be a hundred years old, named Soupramany, or Old Soup as he was called, who lived upon the banks of the Ganges near the city of Cawnpore. On one occasion Old Soup was engaged with a number of other elephants and a party of soldiers, under the direction of Major Daly, in loading a s.h.i.+p with bags of rice.
While the work was proceeding one of the elephants began to throw the bags into the river, and it was found that the animal had gone mad.
Having killed his keeper the elephant started in pursuit of the major's children who with their nurses had been watching the elephants at work.
Old Soup seemed to realize the situation at once. He dashed in between the mad elephant and the children and engaged the infuriated beast in mortal combat. The fight lasted for an hour and a half and when the mad elephant lay dying on the ground it was found that Old Soup had many wounds to remind him of the fray, his ears were badly torn, his head was bruised, and one of his tusks was broken off short.
An Elephant Nurse.
Elephants are most affectionate animals and can be trusted even to take care of children. Old Soup whose gallant fight recorded above gained him great fame, became the daily guardian of Major Daly's children, whom he had so heroically rescued. He would accompany them down to the riverside when they went fis.h.i.+ng, and could himself hold a rod and line, which the children baited for him, watching the float and landing the fish as skilfully as an accomplished angler.
The Elephant's Intelligence.
As we have seen in the case of a dog and that of a monkey, animals sometimes rise to the intelligence of willingly submitting to painful surgical treatment in view of cure. Mr. Kingston tells of an elephant, which had been severely wounded, and which used to go alone to the hospital and extend itself so that the surgeon could easily reach the injured part. Mr. Kingston says: ”Though the pain the animal suffered, was so severe that he often uttered the most plaintive groans, he never interrupted the operation, but exhibited every token of submission to the surgeon till his cure was effected.” Another instance given by Mr.
Kingston is even more remarkable if only for its a.n.a.logy to human conduct. A young elephant had a severe wound in its head, which it had gained on the battle-field. ”Nothing could induce it to allow the injury to be attended to. At length by certain signs and words, the keeper explained to the mother what was wanted. The sagacious animal immediately seized the young one with her trunk, and though it groaned with agony, held it to the ground, while the surgeon was thus enabled to dress the wound. Day after day she continued to act in the same way till the wound was perfectly healed.” There is surely no stronger proof of intelligence than that afforded when present suffering is willingly endured for the sake of future good.