What the Animals Do and Say

by Eliza Lee Cabot Follen

And now, boys, let us talk about the elephant a little. I have been reading something of his history, and I am disposed to think that, of all animals, he is, on the whole, the most intelligent."

"More intelligent than the dog, Mother?"

"Yes, it seems so to me. He is not so disinterested, so loving, but he reasons more than any other animal. He is also capable of very strong attachment, but he will not bear ill treatment. The elephant seems revengeful. The dog still loves the master who is unkind to him.

The elephant will learn to assist his master in his work. An elephant who belonged to the Duke of Devonshire would come out of her house when her keeper called her, take up a broom, and stand ready to sweep the paths and grass when he told her to do so. She would take up a pail or a watering pot, and follow him round the place, ready to do his bidding. Her keeper usually rode on her neck, like the elephant drivers in India, and he always spread over her a large, strong cloth for alighting, which the elephant, by kneeling, allowed him to do. He desired her to take off the cloth. This she contrived to do by drawing herself up in such a way that the shrinking of her loose skin moved the cloth, and it gradually wriggled on one side, till, at last, it would fall by its own weight. The cloth, of course, fell all in a heap; but the elephant would spread it carefully on the grass, and then fold it up, as you fold your napkin, till it was small enough for her purpose; then she held it up with her trunk for a moment, and, at last, with one jerk, threw it up over her head to the centre of her back, where it remained for use, out of the way, ready for next time, and as nicely placed as if human hands had put it there.

A few years ago, an elephant in London was taught to take part in a play. She came in and marched very properly in a procession. At the waving of her keeper's hand, she would kneel down and salute any individual, or put a crown on the head of the true prince. She would eat and drink with great propriety of manner, and make her reverence to the audience. But all this is nothing to what the elephants were taught by the Romans. The keepers, by treating their elephants with the utmost kindness, taking care of them as to health, and doing every thing to make them happy, acquired over them the greatest power. The elephants learned to love music. They were at first frightened by the loud instruments; but, after a while, became very fond of all, particularly of the gentle flute, at which they would show their delight by beating time with their great feet. The keepers accustomed them to the sight of great multitudes of people. At one time, when a particular exhibition of the docility of elephants was required, twelve of the most sagacious and well trained were made to march into the theatre with a regular step. At the voice of their keeper, they moved in harmonious measure, sometimes in a circle, and sometimes divided into parties, scattering flowers around them. In the intervals of the dance, they would beat time to the music, and were careful to keep in proper order. After this display, the elephants were feasted, as the Romans were in the habit of feasting themselves, in grand style. Splendid couches were placed, ornamented with paintings and covered with tapestry. Before the couches, upon tables of ebony and cedar, was spread the banquet, in vessels of gold and silver. When the feast was prepared, the twelve elephants marched in; six gentleman elephants dressed in the robes of men, and six lady elephants attired in women's clothes. They lay down in order upon the couches; and then, at a certain signal, extended their trunks, and eat their suppers with the most praiseworthy moderation and propriety. "Not one of them," says the historian of the elephant, "appeared the least voracious, or manifested the least desire for more than his share of the food, or an undue proportion of the delicacies. They were as moderate also in their drink, and received the cups that were presented to them with the greatest decorum and temperance."

The elephants were taught to hurl javelins, and catch them with their trunks, and to pretend to fight with each other, for the amusement of their warlike masters, and were taught also to perform a dance. Finally, these wonderful animals would do what you would think was utterly impossible. You remember, when the circus riders were here seeing a man walk and dance on a rope."

"Yes, Mother," said Frank; "but an elephant could not do that, I'm sure."

"Historians of Rome, supposed to give true accounts, say that the elephants were taught to walk along a rope forward and then backward. One elephant is described as walking up a slanting rope to the roof of the theatre with a man on his back."

"I should not have liked to be the man on his back," said Harry.

"It is as astonishing, perhaps more so, that a horse has been taught to do similar things. When I was in Paris, I saw some horses dance a quadrille very respectably, and keep excellent time. One of the Roman historians relates, "An elephant, having been punished for stupidity in executing some feat which he was required to learn, was observed, at night, endeavoring to practise what he had failed to perform in the daytime." It is mentioned that elephants have been observed practising their lessons by moonlight, without any directions from the keepers. Think what a good example elephants are for school boys. I have only told you a very little about this wonderful animal; yet enough, I hope, to make you want to read some of the many books about him. You have, I think, read of the story of the elephant who was wounded in his proboscis or trunk, and, in his anger, unintentionally killed his keeper, and of what the keeper's wife did."