On one occasion two elephant-drivers, each with his elephant, the one remarkably large and strong, and the other comparatively small and weak, were at the well together; the small elephant had been provided by his master with a bucket for the occasion, which he carried on the end of his proboscis, but the larger animal, being destitute of this necessary vessel, either spontaneously, or by the desire of his keeper, seized the bucket, and easily wrested it from his less powerful fellow-servant; the latter was too sensible of his inferiority openly to resent the insult, though it is obvious that he felt it; but great squabbling and abuse ensued between the keepers. At length the weaker animal, watching the opportunity when the other was standing with his side to the well, retired backwards a few paces in a very quiet and unsuspicious manner, and then, rushing forward with all his might, drove his head against the side of the other, and fairly pushed him into the well.
Great trouble was experienced in extricating this elephant from the well—a task which would, indeed, have been impossible but for the intelligence of the animal itself. For when a number of fascines, which had been employed by the army in conducting the siege, were thrown down the well, the elephant showed sagacity enough to arrange them with his trunk so as to construct a continuously rising platform, by which he gradually raised himself to a level with the ground.
Allied to vindictiveness for small injuries is revenge for large ones, and this is often shown in a terrible manner by wounded elephants. For instance, Sir E. Tennent writes:—
Some years ago an elephant which had been wounded by a native, near Hambangtotte, pursued the man into the town, followed him along the street, trampled him to death in the bazaar before a crowd of terrified spectators, and succeeded in making good its retreat to the jungle.
Many other cases of vindictiveness, more or less well authenticated, may be found mentioned by Broderip,[232] Bingley,[233] Mrs. Lee,[234] Swainson,[235] and Watson.[236] This trait of emotional character seems to be more generally present in the elephant than in any other animal, except perhaps the monkey.
Another emotion strongly developed in the elephant is sympathy. Numberless examples on this head might be adduced, but one or two may suffice. Bishop Huber saw an old elephant fall down from weakness, and another elephant was brought to assist the fallen one to rise. Huber says he was much struck with the almost human expression of surprise, alarm, and sympathy manifested by the second elephant on witnessing the condition of the first. A chain was fastened round the neck and body of the sick animal, which the other was directed to pull. For a minute or two the healthy elephant pulled strongly; but on the first groan given by its distressed companion it stopped abruptly, 'turned fiercely round with a loud roar, and with trunk and fore-feet began to loosen the chain from the neck.'
Again, Sir E. Tennent says:—
The devotion and loyalty which the herd evince to their leader are very remarkable. This is more readily seen in the case of a tusker than any other, because in a herd he is generally the object of the keenest pursuit by the hunters. On such occasions the others do their utmost to protect him from danger: when driven to extremity they place their leader in the centre and crowd so eagerly in front of him that the sportsmen have to shoot a number which they might otherwise have spared. In one instance a tusker, which was badly wounded by Major Rogers, was promptly surrounded by his companions, who supported him between their shoulders, and actually succeeded in covering his retreat to the forest.
Lastly, allusion may be made to the celebrated observation of M. le Baron de Lauriston, who was at Laknaor during an epidemic which stretched a number of natives sick and dying upon the road. The Nabob riding his elephant over the road was careless whether or not the animal crushed the men and women to death, but not so the elephant, which took great pains to pick his steps among the people so as not to injure them.
The following account of emotion and sagacity is quoted from the Rev. Julius Young's Memoirs of his father, Mr. Charles Young, the actor. The animal mentioned is the one that subsequently attained such widespread notoriety at Exeter Change, not only on account of his immense size, but still more because of his cruel death:—