When the last elephant was inside, the ropes that held the gate were cut. The gate crashed down; bars were run through the sockets; the elephants were trapped.
On my platform I shouted as loudly as any of the Malays. Torches were lighted and the men began dancing. I slipped to the ground and warned them against climbing up on the walls of the stockade, for I was fearful that the sight of men might enrage the elephants. If the beasts suddenly took it into their heads to charge the wall in a body, some of the posts might give way. I could hear them milling around inside the trap, bellowing and tearing up the jungle in an effort to find a way out. Through the remainder of the night the natives danced, ate and drank. Then, when dawn was beginning to light up the sky, I climbed to the platform again and looked down into the trap. There were sixty elephants!
The men, armed with long, spiked poles, mounted to the running platform on the top of the posts, and the celebration was renewed. I stood there, breathless, wondering how many of them, in their excitement, would fall off the platform into the trap. But none did fall, and they fended off the charges of the elephants by sticking them in the heads and bodies with their spikes.
Omar immediately sent a messenger to the Sultan with the good news, and the word passed from village to village. Natives poured in to inspect the catch, and the messenger returned with the news that the Sultan was on his way. It was a historic occasion in Trengganu. The Sultan had never been in the interior of his own country before, and never had there been such an elephant hunt in the state. Omar busied himself with the details of the royal reception while I cared for the catch.
"I climbed to the platform and looked down into the trap.
There were sixty elephants."
We cut holes in the rattan webbing between the posts and enticed the small elephants to come out. There were several babies in the lot, and they soon became playful and affectionate. Baby elephants are just three feet high at birth and weigh about two hundred pounds. They grow an inch each month. We made pets of them and amused ourselves with weaning them. We did this by taking a pail of warm milk and dipping the babies' trunks into it, then doubling the trunks up and putting them into their owners' mouths, and finally squirting milk in with a squirt gun. The babies soon learned to imitate this procedure. They were mischievous little animals, full of fun and inquisitiveness. Hour after hour, I played with them and laughed until I ached.
The Sultan arrived with his retinue, and we gave him a ceremonial greeting. Deputations from all the villages were present, and Omar requisitioned food for a great feast. The Sultan had little to say about the elephants until I took him up on the platform where he could count them for himself. For a minute he looked at them, wide-eyed; then he repeated, "Sir, you spoke the truth."
"I always speak the truth," I replied, and I could see by his expression that he believed me. He was convinced that I was honest. I knew that I had his protection for any expeditions I might undertake in Trengganu. His friendship had been difficult to win, but it was worth the trouble—quite aside from the value of the elephants. Trengganu was virgin country, filled with animals that my customers wanted to buy, and I had the exclusive privilege—so far as foreigners were concerned—of hunting there. And, since the Sultan received a bonus on the animals captured, he provided me with labor.