Inasmuch as they were receiving no money for their work, they had some right to object, but I humored them with promises of celebrations and games. The white man's camp became a popular place in Trengganu. Wonderful tales of what was done there spread through the country, and the men who had been to the camp could command an audience in their home compounds when they returned. The elephant drive was a historic event in the country, and henceforth we had little trouble with labor.
The work of breaking wild elephants must be carried on with painstaking exactness, for one elephant can create havoc in a few seconds if the men lose control. The first task is the building of the stocks where the elephants are to be held while they become accustomed to men; then comes the work of driving into the ground, about four feet apart, two rows of heavy stakes, leading from the trap to the stocks. Also, next the trap, a small enclosure, four or five feet wide by fifteen long, is built at the end of the passageway formed by the stakes. The piles of the trap are removed from the entrance to this enclosure and bars are substituted. Since the elephants were given practically no food during the time they were kept in the trap, they were half starved when the breaking commenced. In their weakened condition they were much less dangerous to handle, and, too, they could then be fed in such a way as to impress upon them the fact that good behavior brings good treatment.
The young elephants required no breaking, and so they were lured from the trap with food. They roamed about the camp, playing and watching operations.
As soon as the tuskers were taken from the trap, they were killed for their ivory. The tusks were worth almost as much as I could get for the live animals, and tusks are far easier to handle than animals that have to be broken and fed. Also, as the animal dealers say, the elephant might "eat and die." I did the killing with my express rifle. The explosive bullets produced instant death. Another way of killing an elephant is to strangle him by running two ropes around his neck and having elephants pull him in opposite directions.
As soon as all the equipment for breaking was ready, I instructed the natives in their work. With a select crew of men, I rehearsed all the details of what we were going to do and how we were going to do it. Finally, I ordered food placed in the enclosure and the bars drawn. The nearest elephant saw the food, sniffed, flapped his ears and walked in. Breaking commenced.
As soon as the elephant enters the small enclosure, the bars behind him are slipped. He eats the food so eagerly that he does not realize quite what is happening and the men put the knee- and foot-hobbles on him. These allow him about one quarter of his normal step. Rattan ropes are fastened to his feet and drawn out through the bars; his trunk is secured so that he can do no damage with it.
There is a great deal of misunderstanding about what an elephant can do with his trunk. It is a sensitive organ and he never uses it for heavy labor, but he can strike a terrific blow with it. I have seen many a man's ribs and arms broken when he neglected to take the proper precautions. In approaching a dangerous elephant, a man should come up sideways, with the nearer arm folded to protect the ribs. Then, if the elephant strikes, he should try to catch the blow on the upper part of the arm, where there is the most flesh to protect the bone. Such a blow never knocks a man flat; it sends him spinning like a top until he tumbles over.
The elephant uses both his trunk and his lungs in calling, and he has a large variety of sounds and combinations of sound with which to express himself. When rushing an enemy, he trumpets shrilly; when enraged by wounds, he grumbles hoarsely from his throat; he expresses fear by a shrill, brassy trumpet and a roar; and pleasure by a continued low squeaking through the trunk. When apprehensive of danger or when attempting to intimidate an enemy, he raps the end of his trunk smartly on the ground and trumpets. The peculiar noise sounds like that produced by the rolling up of a sheet of tin.
In a moment of danger, the elephant coils his trunk to protect it from injury. When he is engaged in heavy work, such as piling lumber, he may use his trunk to balance the load he is carrying on his tusks, but never to bear part of the burden. If an unharnessed elephant must pull a rope, he holds it in his mouth, taking good care to keep his trunk out of the way. It has happened many times that an elephant-keeper—not a trainer, for a trainer knows better—has used a hook a little too freely on an elephant's trunk. If he doesn't get killed, he picks himself up several yards from where he was standing. A trainer is invariably pleased at such an occurrence, because it shows that the keeper was abusing the elephant and has merely received his deserts. The elephant is a good, faithful animal, and he does not attack his keeper without excuse, except when he is in what is called the "must" period, which I shall describe later.
When the elephant is secured by hobbles, foot-ropes and trunk-ropes, the bars leading from the enclosure are removed. The foot-ropes have been fastened to the stakes and are loosened as the elephant walks out. The men holding the ropes attached to the fore feet wind them around the two stakes ahead, and those holding the ropes attached to the hind feet wind them about the first stakes. In this way the animal is drawn forward, step by step, toward the stocks, while natives prod him from behind with poles. If he tries to bolt, he simply falls over. It is a difficult, trying job, because the elephant is still vicious.