The elephants do not always enter the kheddah so willingly, but break away, running over the men, and often killing numbers of them; but, as a rule, a well drilled and organized party manages the drive without great difficulty. When the herd is under control, the tame elephants are marched in, each with its mahout, or driver, upon its neck; and it is a curious fact, again showing the elephant’s lack of intelligence, that the men are never touched, though they could be hauled from the tame animals with the greatest ease. Acting under the directions of the mahouts, the tame elephants separate the wild ones one by one from the herd; and, when they are surrounded, the men, or tiers, slip to the ground, and pass ropes or chains about their hind-legs, by which they are picketed until they have been reduced to subjection.
PLATE VIII.
BABY JUMBO.
From a photograph taken just after his arrival at London Zoölogical Gardens about 1862.
For many years elephants have been caught in Bengal, and the above plan for taking entire herds at a time is now in use by Mr. Sanderson.[2] His most successful operations were carried on near the village of Chámraj-Nuggar near the foot of the Billiga-rungun hills. His first plan was met by much ridicule from the natives; and all the true Mussulmans were firm in the belief that no good would come of it, for the very good reason that there was a curse handed down by a former unsuccessful elephant-trapper for the benefit of any one who made the attempt to capture an entire herd after him. The natives were willing, however, to enter the employ of the official for a consideration, probably when they were convinced that the curse would fall upon him alone. Be this as it may, he had no difficulty in organizing a good band of elephant-hunters; and in a short time a plan of operations was formed on the Houhollay River. The first attempt was unsuccessful, but the next season an entire herd was captured; and since then, many large herds have been secured, the business being a valuable one to the government. The following is a description of one of these government hunts from the pen of Mr. Sanderson, the officer in charge:—
“It was past mid-day before we got all the elephants into cover, and not a minute’s rest did any of us get until eleven P.M. Capt. C⸺, of the revenue survey, came over from his camp at Surgoor, and Major G⸺, and he helped to superintend the people. At one point, the supply of tools was insufficient; and Capt. C⸺ was superintending and encouraging a body of men who were digging with sharpened sticks, and even their bare fingers. The elephants were very noisy in the cover, but did not show themselves. At every twenty yards three or four men were stationed to keep up large fires. These were reflected in the water of the channel and river, which increased their effect. We all had a most exaggerated idea of what the elephants might attempt; and the strength of our defences was in proportion, and greater than they need have been. I was kept on the move almost all night by false alarms at different points, fortunately groundless ones. One tusker showed himself on the bank of the channel, but met with such a reception from firebrands and stones, that he retreated in haste. The river was an advantage, as the elephants had easy access to water. The lurid glare of the fires, the giant figures of the lightly clad watchers, their wild gesticulations on the bank with waving torches, the background of dense jungle resonant with trumpeting of the giants of the forest, formed a scene which words are feeble to depict, and that cannot fade from the memories of those who witnessed it. By eleven P.M. the defences were thoroughly secured; and that the elephants could not now escape, was certain, unless, indeed, they carried some of our barricades, which were, however, so strong as to be almost beyond their power. The men differed as to their number. I had seen about twenty: some declared there were fifty, but I could not believe this at the time. The number was fifty-four, as we subsequently found. The excitement of the scene was irresistible; so I betook myself to walking around the enclosure at intervals throughout the night, followed by a man carrying a basket of cheroots, which I distributed to the people. The rest of the time I lay upon my cot, which my servant had been thoughtful enough to bring from Morlay, enjoying the wildness of the sounds and scenes around, and soothed by cheroots and coffee. When the elephants approached the place where I was, the guards thrust long bamboos into the fires, which sent showers of sparks up to the tops of the trees overhead, where they exploded with a sound like pistol-shots. The first crow of the jungle-cock was the most grateful sound I think I ever heard, as it showed our anxious vigil was drawing to a close. We knew that during the day the elephants would give us no trouble. My herdsmen now joined me from the points where they had been stationed during the night, and we set about considering the next step to be taken; namely, making a small enclosure, or pound, into which to get the elephants confined. Of course, this would take some time to carry out. If driven from the east, we knew that the animals would pass between the temple and channel at the west end of the cover, with a view to crossing the river below the temple, and regaining their native hills, which, however, they were fated never to see again. I therefore laid out a pound of one hundred yards in diameter, surrounded by a ditch nine feet wide at top, three at bottom, and nine feet deep. This was connected with the larger cover by two guiding trenches which converged to the gate. It was completed in four days by the personal exertions of the amildár with a body of laborers who worked with a will, as their crops had suffered from the incursions of elephants, and they appreciated the idea of reducing their numbers.
“The last thing completed was the entrance gate, which consisted of three transverse trunks of trees slung by chains between two trees that formed gate-posts. This barrier was hauled up and suspended by a single rope, so as to be cut away after the elephants passed. The news of the intended drive attracted several visitors from Mysore. Tents were pitched in an open glade close to the river, and we soon had a pleasant party of ladies and gentlemen. The evening before the drive, all assembled within view of the point where the elephants were in the habit of drinking at sunset, and were gratified with an admirable view of the huge creatures, disporting themselves timidly in the water. On the morning of the 17th, every thing being in readiness for the drive, Capts. P., B., and I proceeded with some picked hands to drive the herd from its stronghold towards the pound. We succeeded in moving them through the thick parts of the cover with rockets, and soon got them near to its entrance. A screened platform had been erected for the ladies at a point near the gate, where they could see the final drive into the enclosure from a place of safety. The elephants, however, when near the entrance, made a stand, and refused to proceed, and finally, headed by a determined female, turned upon the beaters, and threatened to break down an open glade. P. and I intercepted them, and most of them hesitated; but the leading female, the mother of an albino calf, which had been evilly disposed from the beginning, rushed down upon me, as I happened to be directly in her path, with shrill screams, followed by four or five others, which, however, advanced less boldly. When within five yards, I floored her with my eight-bore Greener and ten drams; but, though the heavy ball hit the right spot between the eyes, the shot was not fatal; as the head was carried in a peculiar position, and the bullet passed under the brain. The elephant fell at the shot, almost upon me, and P. fired; and I gave her my second barrel, which in the smoke missed her head, but took effect in her chest, and must have penetrated to the region of the heart, as a heavy jet of blood spouted forth when she rose. For a moment she swayed about, then fell to rise no more. This was a painful sight. The elephant had only acted in defence of her young; but shooting her was unavoidable, as our lives, as well as those of the beaters, were in jeopardy.