The Ivory King: A popular history of the elephant and its allies

by Charles Frederick Holder

The gods have said it,’ etc.

Both animals expanded their ears, and listened, then left their bath. As the crowd rushed towards them, the little one ran forward to the end of the valley, but, seeing the men, returned to his dam. She placed herself on the dangerous side of her calf, and passed her proboscis over it again and again, as if to assure it of safety. She frequently looked back to the men, who kept up an incessant shouting, singing, and piping; then looked at her young one, and ran after it, sometimes sidewise, as if her feelings were divided between anxiety to protect her offspring, and desire to revenge the temerity of her persecutors. The men kept about a hundred yards in her rear, and some that distance from her flanks, and continued thus until she was obliged to cross a rivulet.

“The time spent in descending and getting up the opposite bank allowed of their coming up to the edge and discharging their spears at about sixty feet distance. After the first discharge, she appeared with her sides red with blood, and, beginning to flee for her own life, seemed to think no more of her young. I had previously sent off Sekweba with orders to spare the calf. He ran very fast, but neither young nor old ever enter into a gallop: their quickest pace is only a sharp walk. Before Sekweba could reach them, the calf had taken refuge in the water, and was killed. The pace of the dam gradually became slower: she turned with a shriek of rage, and made a furious charge back among the men. They vanished at right and left angles from her course; and, as she ran right on, she went through the whole party, but came near no one, except a man who wore a piece of cloth on his shoulders. She charged three or four times, and, except in the first instance, never went farther than one hundred yards. She often stood, after she had crossed a rivulet, and faced the men, though she received fresh spears. It was by this process of spearing, and loss of blood, that she was killed; for at last, making a short struggle, she staggered round, and sank down dead, in a kneeling position.”

While this method is certainly a fair one,—the natives exposing themselves, and meeting the elephant in the open field,—it seems a murderous operation to torture such a noble animal, especially when she is defending her young.

Among the narrow escapes of elephant-hunters in Africa may be mentioned Mr. Oswold. He was fleeing from an elephant, near the shores of the Zonga, when his horse stumbled, and he fell in a thicket, face to the huge brute who was coming like an avalanche—a veritable mountain of flesh. He gave himself up as lost; but, by a miracle, the animal passed within a few inches, missing him in its blind rage.

Elephants are remarkable for their scent, and hunters always try to keep to the leeward. Charles Volk, a Dutchman, while hunting, concealed himself in the brush, hoping to take an elephant unawares. But he was in the wrong direction: the great game scented him, and a moment later was upon the unfortunate hunter, and had crushed him into a shapeless mass. On another occasion, a party came upon two large elephants in an open spot. They immediately made for cover, the hunters wounding a female as she ran. Hoping to cut off her retreat, they put spurs to their horses, and were well upon her, when the male, a large tusker, charged upon them from a thicket. Some of the men had dismounted to fire; and, though taken by surprise, they succeeded in reaching their horses, with the exception of a young man, who was standing with his arm through the bridle, and loading his gun. The infuriated animal caught him before he could move, drove both his tusks through his body, and tossed him dead and bleeding a great height into the air; then, returning to its mate, both animals made off.

Karol Kreiger’s name is often mentioned by the Dutch African colonists as a bold hunter, who killed many elephants in his day, and was extremely fortunate in avoiding their rushes. He finally met his death while engaged in the sport of his choice. He was following a wounded elephant, when the latter suddenly whirled about as if on a pivot, took him in its trunk, and tossed him like a ball into the air, and, when he fell, trampled him underfoot in a frenzy of rage. When the body was recovered, it was completely torn in pieces.

While Europeans are remarkably courageous in facing a charging elephant, they are exceeded in daring by the Hamran Arabs, who, without any of the appliances of a modern sportsman, face the largest and most ferocious elephants with a simple sword and shield. The Hamran Arabs are skilled horsemen, and are distinguished from their countrymen of other tribes by the length of their hair, which is worn in long curls, and parted in the centre. Their sole method of defence and attack is the sword and shield. The latter is of two kinds: one is circular in shape, either of rhinoceros or giraffe hide, stiffened by a stout piece of wood that passes down the centre. The shield is about two feet in diameter, and resembles, according to Baker, a broad hat with a low crown terminating in a point. In the crown, there is a bar of leather used as a grip; while the outside is protected by a piece of scaly crocodile-hide. The swords, which are manufactured at Sollingen, are all of one pattern, being longer or shorter according to the strength of the owner. The blade is long and straight and two-edged; the guard being a simple bar, or cross, a fashion presumably adopted after the Crusades. Some of the wealthy Arabs decorate the handles with silver; and a good sword is highly prized, and handed down from generation to generation. Metal scabbards are not used; the case being two thin strips of an elastic, soft wood covered with leather, all of which is to preserve the edge; for this double-edged weapon is so delicate and keen, that it will cut a hair, and could be used as a razor. On the march, the sword is looked after with the greatest care, and is slung from the pommel of the saddle, passing beneath the thigh. When the Arab dismounts, he invariably draws it, and, after examining both edges, strops it upon his shield, and, having shaved a hair from his arm, returns it to the scabbard.

The swords are about three feet five inches in length; and about nine inches of the blade is bound with cord, which is grasped with the right hand, the left seizing the handle, so that it becomes a two-handed weapon. Thus armed, four aggageers, as the professional elephant-hunters are called, are ready to attack the largest elephant. Their method is, if they have no horses, to follow the great game on foot, and endeavor, between the hours of ten A.M. and twelve M., to find one sleeping. If this can be accomplished, they steal upon it, and with one blow of the terrible sword sever the trunk, producing a wound from which the elephant will die in an hour. A well-equipped party, however, consists of four aggageers on horseback. When the trail of a herd is struck, they dash in pursuit; and when the animals are discovered, endeavor to single out the largest tusker, generally an old bull. Galloping after the fleeing elephant, they soon gain on it, and endeavor to make it turn and charge,—a matter of little difficulty. The men now have each a duty to perform. One places himself immediately in front of the animal, and tries to attract its attention, as does the matador in the bull-fight. This is a most dangerous position; as, if the horse stumbles before the desperate charges of the enraged animal, both horse and rider will be crushed to death. But, while the nimble aggageer in front is tantalizing the great beast, the others are watching their opportunity. Galloping up behind the fleeing animal until within a foot or so of its heels, one springs to the ground lightly, sword in hand, though at full speed, and, racing along on foot for a few seconds, strikes the elephant a terrific blow, severing the back sinew of the foot, so that the first pressure after the stroke dislocates the joint. As the hunter leaps to the ground, his companion seizes his horse, and, as soon as the blow is made, he remounts: two or three ride near the unfortunate elephant’s trunk, to give the third aggageer an opportunity to sever the sinew of the other hind-foot, which is soon done; and the huge animal, thus helpless, is literally killed by two blows of a sword.

The force of the blow given in this way can be imagined when it is known that a native has been seen to sever the spine of a wild boar at a single stroke. The aggageers often meet with terrible accidents. One employed by Sir S. W. Baker had his leg almost severed by his own sword. Another Arab, Roder Sherrif, had had his horse killed from under him by an elephant, whose tusk at the same time entered his arm, rendering it useless for life. Yet this maimed man was considered the finest hunter, and always chose the most dangerous post, running ahead of the elephant’s trunk to attract its attention; and it was in doing this that he had met with the terrible wounds.