They possess several female elephants, called “koomkies,” which are used as decoys, and, strangely enough, take the greatest interest in capturing the saun. When the hunter goes out on his expedition, he takes with him at least two koomkies, and sometimes three, if the saun should happen to be a very large one; and in all cases he takes care that the koomkies shall not be much smaller than the saun.
The hunters, furnished with ropes and the other apparatus for securing the saun, lie flat on the koomkies’ backs, cover themselves with a large dark cloth, and proceed toward the place where the saun was seen. Often the koomkies carry in their trunks branches of trees, which they hold in such a manner as to prevent their intended captive from seeing that they carry anything on their backs. The saun, seeing them approach, loses some of his fury, and thinks that he is in great good-fortune to meet with females over whom he can rule as he had done before. He is so delighted with this idea that he fails to perceive the hunters, who usually slip off behind a tree as they near him, but sometimes boldly retain their post.
The koomkies then go up to the saun and begin to caress him, one on each side, and sometimes another in front of him, when three decoys are employed. They caress him, make much of him, and gradually bring him near a stout tree, where they detain him. The hunters then creep under the huge animal, and pass stout ropes round his forelegs, binding them tightly together, being aided in this by the decoys, who place their trunks so that their masters cannot be seen, and sometimes even assist him by passing the rope when he cannot conveniently reach it. The forelegs being secured, the hunter places round the elephant’s hindlegs a pair of strong fetters. These are made of wood, and open with a hinge of rope. They are studded inside with sharp iron spikes, and, when clasped round the feet of the elephant, are fastened to the trunk of the tree with strong ropes.
The elephant being now made fast, the hunters creep away, and are followed by the koomkies, who receive their masters on their necks, and go off, leaving the unfortunate saun to his fate. If he was furious before, he is tenfold more so when he has to add to disappointment the sense of confinement, and the knowledge that he has been tricked. He screams with rage, tears branches off the tree, pulls up the grass by the roots and flings it about, and even tries to break the rope which holds him to the tree, or to pull up the tree itself by the roots. The spikes with which the wooden fetters are lined give him such pain, that he is soon forced to desist, and wearied out with pain and exertion, he becomes more quiet. On the following day the same men and elephants come to him, and bring him a little food; and so they go on until he has learned first to endure, and afterward to desire their presence. When they judge him to be sufficiently tamed, strong ropes are fastened to his legs, and attached to the koomkies, and, the ligatures round his feet being removed, he is marched off to his new quarters.
Sometimes he resists, on finding his limbs at liberty. In such a case the koomkies drag him along by the ropes, while a large male pushes him on from behind, sometimes using his tusks by way of spurs. When he has been taken to his abode, he is treated with firm but kind discipline, and is so effectually tamed, that in a few months after he was ranging wild about the forest he may be seen assisting to convey a refractory brother to his new home.
The intelligence of the koomkies is really wonderful, and they take quite as much interest in the pursuit as their masters. Captain Williams mentions an instance where a gentleman had purchased a koomkie, not knowing her to be such. The mahout or driver would not mention her capacity, because he very much preferred the ease and comfort of a gentleman’s establishment to the dangers and hardships of a hunter’s life. The wealthy natives of the neighborhood would not mention it, because each of them hoped to buy the animal for himself at a less price than would be asked for a koomkie.
One day the animal was missing, and did not return for several days. However, she came back, and was harnessed as usual for a walk. When she came to a certain spot, she became restive, and at last dashed into the jungle, where she brought her master to a fine saun, whom she had crippled by fastening a chain round his forelegs.
In Nepâl the natives adopt a very dangerous mode of elephant hunting. They go to the hunt on elephants, and furnish themselves with very strong ropes, one end of which is made fast to the body of the riding elephant, and the other furnished with a slip-knot, to which is attached a line, by which the noose can be relaxed. They give chase to the herd, and, selecting a suitable animal, the hunter dexterously flings the noose upon the head of the animal just behind its ears and on its brows. The elephant instinctively curls up its trunk, whereupon the noose slips fairly over its head.
The hunter then checks the pace of his animal, so that the noose is drawn tightly round the neck of the captured elephant, and causes a partial choking. His speed being checked, another hunter comes up and flings a second noose, so that by their united force the captive can be strangled if necessary. Sometimes, when he is very furious, the hunters are obliged to render him insensible over and over again, before he can be induced to obey his new masters. The well-known Nepâlese ambassador, Jung Bahadûr, was celebrated for his skill and daring in this dangerous sport.
As an example of the perfect command which the Indian mahouts have over their animals, Captain Williams mentions an adventure which took place at Chittagong. During a stormy night, an elephant got loose, and escaped into the forest. Four years afterward, when a herd of elephants was driven into a keddah, the mahout, who had climbed the palisades to view the enclosed animals, thought that he recognized among them his missing elephant. His comrades ridiculed him, but he persisted in his idea, and called the animal by name. The elephant recognized the voice of its driver, and came toward him. The man was so overjoyed at this, that, regardless of the danger which he ran, he climbed over the palisades, and called to the elephant to kneel down. The animal obeyed him, he mounted on its neck, and triumphantly rode it out of the keddah.