Chapter I: Part 1
A
VISIT
TO THE
ELEPHANT.
“O Lord, how manifold are thy works, in wisdom hast thou made
them all!”
BY THE AUTHOR OF
“_Samboe_,” “_Twilight Hours Improved_,” _&c._
LONDON:
BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY; HARVEY
AND DARTON; AND SWINBORNE
AND WALTER.
1825.
Swinborne and Walter, Printers,
Colchester.
_Page 29._]
A VISIT, &c.
CHAP. I.
Nothing can be more natural than the attachment and regard to
which the faithful services of our domestics are entitled; it
is a beautiful link in the chain of family charities, and can
only be severed by pride, by folly, or by vice.
It was one of those lovely mornings which frequently mark the declining autumn in our variable climate, when summer as it were seems to linger amid the decaying vestiges of her glory, and the deep verdure of the vales affords a strong and lively contrast to the seared leaves, falling in quick succession from the branches so late affording refreshing shade to the traveller; when the stormy winds which had howled through the quick-changing woods, swept over the fields divested of their waving riches, and whose violence had awakened the sympathy of the compassionate for the unfortunates exposed to elemental strife, had sunk into the profoundest repose, and the fleecy clouds seemed still and motionless as a flock of sheep slumbering in peace under the shepherd’s care: every thing in nature breathing tranquillity, and disposing the mind to gentleness and peace. It was on such a morning after nearly a sleepless night, Mr. Elmer entered his breakfast-room, having taken his usual morning’s stroll on the gravel terrace upon which the windows opened; he had scarcely entered, before his old and faithful domestic attended with the breakfast equipage, and having modestly and respectfully inquired how he had passed the boisterous night, put the newspaper with other papers upon the table, keeping one in his hand. “And what is that long paper, Alan?” inquired Mr. Elmer; “why this your honour was given me as I went for the rolls; it is an account of the wild beasts that are arrived at C——” and he gave the paper to his master, who saw that it contained the figures and description of an itinerant menagerie then exhibiting at the town, in the immediate vicinity of which he resided.
“Dear, your honour,” said Alan, “sure Master Harry and Miss Joanna, and may be my little favorite Miss Ellen, would like to see the elephant; _I_ really should, to see if it is as fine a one as those we used to admire in India: you remember that fine beast at Calcutta in particular your honour, as sensible as any Christian?” “Yes I do indeed, Alan;” replied Mr. Elmer, with his accustomed affability; “and I think with you, that it will be a great treat to the dear children, to see an animal which even in its confined state, so greatly displays the wisdom of the Creator; they cannot be too early acquainted with such proofs of his greatness and goodness. Tell William to get the phaeton ready, and we will go for them this lovely morning; you must also be our escort to the elephant, Alan; for (he added with an arch smile), your old master is almost in his second childhood, and there is no telling what effect the sight of the huge elephant may have upon him.” “Bless your honour, when you talk so, you make me feel so queer; but life and death are in the power of a good GOD, and you have taught me my dear master, to submit every thing to his will: I hope it is no sin to pray that as we have lived together, so we may die together.” A tear of affection swelled in the eye of the old domestic, as he regarded with a look of grateful veneration his beloved master, whose fine mild and placid features, indicated a soul at peace with itself, and in the habitual exercise of the best feelings of the heart. “Well my good fellow, pour out my coffee, and let us lose no time in fetching the young ones to this great sight: tell Mary they will dine here, therefore not to forget the pudding.” Alan hastened to obey; and while he is making his preparations, and his master takes his coffee, we will introduce them a little more particularly to our young friends.
CHAP. II.
“From the same bosom drew the vital stream,
Through life’s eventful scenes together passed.”
The father of Mr. Elmer held a considerable official situation in India, and almost immediately succeeding the birth of this his only child, was obliged to sail for Bengal, taking with him his young wife, having prevailed upon her to leave her infant under the care of a young woman who had been a favorite attendant, and was respectably married to a farmer in her native village, bordering on the Highlands of Scotland. Mrs Thomson, sincerely attached to her dear young mistress, received her infant with a mother’s tenderness, and having recently given birth to her own first-born, she placed the little Henry by his side, and faithfully promised his weeping mother, that he should never miss her fostering love at least: and she hoped that in a year or two she should return him a “bonny lad to her dear lady.” But her anticipations were never verified, poor Henry never more was pressed to his mother’s bosom, or caused the thrill of parental pride to swell a father’s breast, for in returning to England after an absence of five years, the ship was wrecked and all on board perished.
The guardians of the orphan however, permitted him to remain during the first happy years of childhood with his foster parents, and he shared to the full their affectionate attention with their own son Alan, while the boys themselves grew up in every respect as brothers; although Mrs. Thomson, who possessed no small share of the sound sense which distinguishes the inferior classes of her country, always impressed upon the mind of her son, that while he loved Henry as a brother, he must also ever recollect that he was his superior, and as such entitled to his respect and duty. “I shall be happy my dear Alan,” she would say, “if when he grows up to manhood, that he will take you into his service, for surely it will be a service of love; and unless his disposition greatly changes, you must, my dear boy, be happy with him.” Alan fully concurred in this secret wish of his mother, and by its frequent repetition, was accustomed habitually to regard Henry as his master, and to pay him a sort of intuitive deference, which was not in the remotest degree allied to servility, but flowed from that modest humility which ennobles the heart that cherishes it; and which rendered Alan as much respected as beloved by his master, and all who knew him under all the various changes and situations of his succeeding life. Perhaps the first sorrow either of these boys experienced, was at the period when Henry was to quit the cottage of his foster parents, to be placed at a public seminary for education, and his beloved companion Alan was not to accompany him; for hitherto their studies had proceeded together under the tuition of the village preceptor: and they had been distinguished by him as diligent and clever boys. “And why may not Alan go with me?” he artlessly inquired of his guardian. “Because Alan is a farmer’s son my dear, and you are a gentleman’s son; education necessary for him may be obtained in his native village, but you must go where you will form connections suitable to your birth, and be taught many things requisite to your advancement in the world.” “But Alan learns quite as quick as me, and indeed we both acquire our lessons easier when we study together.” “Perhaps so, but you will have numerous companions; beside my dear boy, much as your wish proves your affection, assure yourself it would be a very false species of it to remove Alan from his sphere, in fulfilling the peculiar duties of which, he may live happy and respected, and in which you may greatly contribute to render him so; but in removing him from his early connections, or in elevating him above them, you hazard his humility, consequently his virtue and his happiness; and by refining his mind, you may destroy his relish for the simple pleasures of his present situation, without having it in your power to substitute any to supply its place; hence, you may in the hope of increasing his happiness, be in danger of producing discontent.” Henry’s reason could not but concur in these remarks of his guardian, while his feelings revolted from the separation. It was however useless to contend against necessity; and in a few days, (after mutual assurances of remembrance, correspondence, &c.) the boys bid adieu to each other. Much might be said upon the mutual feelings of these affectionate lads; but it is wisely ordained that the strong emotions of youth should quickly give place to new excitements, and fresh objects of curiosity; it will therefore only be necessary to say, that although each felt the deprivation of the other’s society, each became resigned to the necessity, each open to the enjoyments of their peculiar situation: their mutual parting promises were religiously kept, Henry frequently wrote to his humble friend the incidents of his school life,—the progress of his studies; and Alan recounted the village anecdotes, the fidelity and sagacity of Ryno, Henry’s favorite spaniel, the fresh haunts of the mountains he had discovered, his success in fishing, &c. Henry acquired no pride to cloud the pleasure with which he remembered the simple cottage and its dear inhabitants; Alan never lost sight of his humility and respect in corresponding with his beloved young master, while it expanded his ideas and enlarged his views beyond what they could otherwise have attained.
Thus years passed on, during which but one summer vacation had been passed in what Henry emphatically called “the happy valley;” a thousand plans were then formed for the future by the enterprising boys; all tending to a renewal of companionship: and at a time when they least expected, their most sanguine wishes were fulfilled. Henry had nearly attained his seventeenth year, when this unexpected wish promised accomplishment. It is thus recounted in an extract of a letter to Alan.
“At length, Alan, my future destination seems determined upon, and I hasten to inform you of the proposed plan, as you, my lad, are somewhat interested in it. Now I think I see those blue veins on your temples swell, and your eyes flash fire while you repeat the last words. Well then to the point, through the interest of Mr. H. I shall, in the spring, ‘if it pleases God,’ as our dear pious mother would say, sail for India, being appointed to a situation in the presidency, to which my youth would have been an obstacle, had it not been obviated by my facility in sketching objects from nature, (acquired, I verily believe, in measuring distances among our rocks and mountains, Alan, and _peering_ after you on the crags), and also my _wonderful_ acquisition of the oriental languages; I suppose rendered easy to me by the flexibility of the organs, produced by the early habit of mimicing the mountain echoes, and the cries of the sea birds to deceive you, my good boy. Be this as it may, I find I have astonished the examiners, and am in consequence, strongly recommended to the governor-general, as competent to the honourable and confidential situation in question. ‘But how’ I think I hear you say ‘can this so much interest _me_, except indeed as it removes my friend far far from me?’ Now attend, and I will tell you—I am not only allowed, but required to take a personal attendant with me to the seat of eastern parade and luxurious ease—the presidency, and if Alan Thomson can make up his mind to quit the happy valley, and all that constitutes it such, where can Henry Elmer choose better, than to have him for his personal attendant?” It is almost unnecessary to say, that Alan joyfully acceded to the plan, and although his mother “wept sore” at parting, yet she could not but acknowledge that her wishes were fulfilled. Accordingly, loaded with her blessings, and the good wishes of all who knew him, he joined Henry in London, and they sailed together for India.
It would be no unamusing task, to detail the events which occurred to these constant companions while in Asia; we may perhaps one day recount their various adventures, one only, in which a young officer, an intimate friend of Henry Elmer, was a principal actor, and he with Alan spectators, we will detail, as it illustrates the dangers to which the orientals are exposed by the wild animals of these torrid regions. “During the march of a detachment, conducting some official servants of the presidency to a place appointed, on their arrival at a village, the zumudar made known to the party, that a tiger had taken up his quarters in the vicinity, and besides committing terrible ravages among the cattle, he had killed several villagers, and had on that morning wounded the son of the zumudar, who was with great difficulty rescued from death. Animated by this account, all the young men of the party, both military and civil, determined to hunt this terrific animal, and mounting their elephants proceeded to dislodge him from his haunts. They soon discovered him. The elephant of the young officer alluded to being rather in the advance, was attacked by the tiger; another elephant, which was near, turned round in apparent dismay and ran off to some distance. The tiger had sprung upon the shoulder of the first elephant, and the rider, with admirable presence of mind, fired at him in this situation, and he fell. Imagining however (too hastily) that he had disabled him, he rashly descended from the elephant, for the purpose of despatching the tiger with his pistols, but in alighting from the ponderous animal, he unfortunately came in contact with the tiger, which with the instinctive wiliness that distinguishes the species, had only couched for a second spring, and now catching hold of the unfortunate, youth, dragged him some distance along the ground; his presence of mind, however, did not forsake him, but having succeeded in drawing a pistol from his belt, he fired it, and lodged the ball in the body of the tiger; the enraged and furious beast shook him violently without quitting his hold, and made off to the thickest part of the jungle with his prey. In the struggle to disengage himself from the furious beast, the officer almost instinctively caught hold of him by both his ears, and succeeded, after a desperate conflict, in throwing the animal upon his side, when he again availed himself of this momentary release to draw forth his remaining pistol, and presenting the muzzle close to the breast of the tiger, shot him through the heart. He then returned to his elephant, which he actually mounted without assistance—so great is the influence of the mind over the feelings of the body, declaring, afterwards, that he, at that moment, felt little or no pain from his wounds, although he had received no fewer than five-and-twenty, and many of them severe. He subsequently suffered much from the consequences of this desperate conflict—losing the motion of the knee, which was the principal seat of the injury. So desperate, so rapid, and so entire was this attack and conflict, that the other persons could only gaze and shudder, at the almost inevitable result; and when they found the unfortunate young man had escaped the fury of the tiger, and even killed him, they were almost struck dumb with admiration and astonishment.”
It will now be proper to resume our history, having we hope interested our young readers by our account of the worthy Mr. Elmer, and his faithful Alan Thomson, upon their first entrance upon the active duties of life, but from which, at the period of the commencement of our history, they had retired to a pleasant villa in the vicinity of a fine old town, in one of the eastern counties of England, in order to be near the only daughter of Mr. Elmer, married to a clergyman of the name of Monson, and residing at a beautiful village only three miles from the town of C——, and the villa of Mr. Elmer.—But the phaeton is at the door, and Alan mounted on his docile Jessy, to accompany his master; therefore, while they travel so pleasantly, we will have a peep at the rectory before their arrival.
CHAP. III.
“See the fond mother, and her offspring round,
Her soft soul melting with maternal love;
Some to her breast she clasps, and others prove
By kisses her affection. On the ground,
Her ready foot affords a seat for one,
Another smiling sits upon her knee;
By their desiring eyes, and actions free,
And lisping words their little wants are known:
To those she gives a smile, a frown to these,—
But all in love.”
The young and amiable Mrs. Monson fully realized this pleasing picture of a fond mother. On the morning which thus introduces her and her little family to our young readers, she had employed the valuable hours of its prime as usual, in the tender duties of the nursery and the school room; and the children having fulfilled their appointed tasks to her satisfaction, she readily yielded to the request of Harry and Joanna, the two eldest, for permission to amuse themselves on the lawn, upon which the sun shone gloriously; while she took the three younger to visit an old lady in the village, whose partiality to children, and her great kindness to them, made her a general favorite.
The storm of the preceding night had left ample evidences of its power, among the shrubs and flowers in the borders of the lawn; and the walks were covered with the leaves of which its violence had bereft some fine old elms and chesnuts, in an irregular sort of avenue, which formed the approach to the lawn; while those portions of the garden appropriated to the children, were of course, as well as every other, in the greatest disorder, and choked by the drifted leaves. Almost unable to find a single flower, Harry proposed that Joanna should be his _horse and cart_, to _make-believe_ being gardener, and _really_ to clear away the leaves from their little gardens. Joanna hesitated, but was at last persuaded by the entreaties of Harry, and his promise that she should be gardener in her turn. He accordingly, with not a little ingenuity, fastened an old basket to her back, and finding some list in the garden-house, soon harnessed her in good style, and quickly manufacturing his emblem of power and command—the whip, proceeded to load his cart with great energy, though, it must be confessed, rather too heavily for his vehicle, which was at the point of loosening from its fastenings, when the well-known sound of grandpapa’s phaeton, and the regular trot of his ponies, arrested the attention of the _labourers_, and in a moment, the ever-welcome visitant was seen driving up the avenue. Joanna struggled to free herself from the trammels, but in vain, they were too skilfully fastened for her ingenuity and impatience to loosen; and half in tears at the delay and obstruction, she petitioned “dear Harry” to free her. Harry, however, although equally desirous, found it not quite so easy as he expected, and Mr. Elmer had arrived at the gate before Joanna’s liberation was effected. “How now, my young despot,” exclaimed Mr. Elmer good humouredly, “what, exercising your power over the weak thus early?” “Oh grandpapa,” replied Harry, still busy in untying knots, “it is only make-believe,—Joanna was soon going to drive me about.” “Pray take this piece off my arm, Harry,” entreated Joanna, as she made her arm red in her attempt to slide from it a piece of rough list, tied with no _gentle knot_, and in the attempt pushing off her bonnet, and disclosing her animated countenance, glowing with exercise and impatience. Alan quickly however lent his assistance, and Harry dashing off his cap, and shaking his dark locks from the perspiration which burst from his forehead, declared that Joanna trotted as well as grandpapa’s ponies, and only wanted a little practice to be just the thing to get his hand in to drive _them_. “Upon my word, sir, you have appointed your sister to an honourable post; but as she seems to have been sufficiently _practised_ this morning, what say you to a ride with me;—will you, my young Phaeton, condescend to be driven by your old grandfather?” “Dear grandpapa, you know what a treat it is always to me, and may not dear Joanna go too?” “Certainly, and Ellen too if she likes it; I am come for you to dine with me to-day; but these hands must be washed, jacket brushed, locks arranged, and stockings made tight, or it will certainly be thought I have picked up a gipsy, particularly if Joanna keeps her bonnet hanging behind her, as it now does.” “Oh! we will be ready in a minute, grandpapa; but, dear me, Ellen is gone out with mamma!” “Well, I will wait a little while for you all, for look here (spreading out the bill of the menagerie) I am going to place you all amongst these animals; you look a little like an ourang-outang, Harry, and Joanna reminded me when her arms were so pinioned, of the kangaroo with its short fore feet.” “Oh dear grandpapa, how droll you are,—but I declare there is an elephant, what is there a real one to be seen? and are you going to take us to see it? Oh how good you are. Joanna dear, you wont be afraid, will you?” “No, Harry, that I shall not, for I am sure grandpapa would not take us any where to hurt or frighten us; but I shall like very much to see an elephant; Mamma told me her beautiful fan was made of ivory,—so the elephant’s teeth are called.” “It is a very large animal, is it not grandpapa?” inquired Harry. “Yes, my dear, very large and very wonderful, as well as useful.” “I suppose it is taller than you, grandpapa?” “Rather,” replied Mr. Elmer, with a significant smile, amused at the artless estimate of Harry, and anticipating with pleasure the astonishment of the children, when they should behold the magnitude of the animal. While some further conversation passed, and the children were dressing for their jaunt, Mrs. Monson returned. Of course, an interchange of kisses, embraces, blessings, &c. took place; but at length Mr. Elmer placed himself, with gratified affection, in his little vehicle, with his juvenile companions, and they merrily proceeded on their way to C——, asking a thousand questions about what they were going to see. Having arrived at Rose Mount, they alighted, and proceeded on foot to C——. The amusement they enjoyed there, will be found recounted in the following chapter.
CHAP. IV.
“These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,
Almighty!——these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine!”
The cheerful activity of Alan Thomson, bearing his little favorite Ellen in his arms, one of her fat little arms encircling his neck; the mild and venerable demeanour of Mr. Elmer; and the engaging innocence of the children, each holding a hand of their indulgent grandpapa, seemed irresistibly to actuate the several individuals who formed the crowd surrounding the caravans composing the menagerie; for they readily gave way, that the little group might easily pass to the entrance, while the woman who took the admittance-money, exclaimed “God bless the sweet dears,” and in a tone of respect said to Mr. Elmer as he passed, “take care, Sir, I am afraid you will find the steps very slippery:” thanking her for the caution, he passed into the enclosure.
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.”
“Thank you grandpapa,” said the gratified Harry, “I shall certainly never forget how the elephant is snared, but I think I am not ambitious to be an elephant hunter.” “You would not then like to be an Abyssinian elephant hunter?” “Why, grandpapa?” “Because of the great danger and skill required.” “Did you ever see them, grandpapa?” “No, my dear, but an enterprising traveller has given us an account of the mode in very lively colouring.” “Perhaps you can remember it so as to tell us, dear grandpapa?” “I will try, my boy.—Mr. Bruce tells us that the persons employed in this dangerous service live constantly in the woods, subsisting upon the flesh of the animals they kill. They are exceedingly thin, light, and agile, both on foot and on horse-back. They are called Agageers, a name derived from the one descriptive of their mode of destroying the great animals, such as the elephant and rhinoceros; _Agar_ signifying to hough or hamstring with a sharp weapon, or, more properly, cutting the tendon of the heel. To effect this, two men quite naked, to prevent their being caught by the trees and bushes, in making their escape from their watchful enemy, get on horse-back. One of them sits on the back of the horse, sometimes with a saddle, sometimes without one: with only a short stick in one hand, carefully managing the bridle with the other: behind him sits his companion, armed only with a broadsword——but hold, I recollect I have a drawing of the group. Harry boy, ring the bell, Alan shall bring my port-feuille.” “Ah, that will be delightful Harry,” exclaimed Joanna, who had a fine taste for drawing and delighted to look at them. Alan appeared, received his directions where to find the port-feuille, and in a few minutes it was opened before the delighted children; indeed its contents were well calculated to gratify the most refined taste, and to excite the admiration of the practised delineator of nature’s beauties and wonders.
The descriptive drawing of the Agageers and elephant was soon found. “Here, Harry,” said Mr. Elmer, as pleased as his juvenile companions, “here they are. The left hand of his Agageer is employed you see, in grasping the sword by the handle; about a foot or fourteen inches of the blade of which is covered with whipcord. This part he takes in his right hand without any danger of being hurt by it, and though the edges of the lower part of the sword are as sharp as a razor, he carries it without a scabbard.
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A visit to the elephantChapter I: Part 1
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