Elephants are sometimes taken in pits, at the bottom of which are laid bundles of grass in order to break the fall of the heavy animal. The elephants are generally decoyed into these pits by a tame animal which is guided close to the pit by the mahout, who has placed certain marks by which he knows its exact locality. Sometimes they are merely dug in the paths of the elephants, which fall into them in their nightly rambles, and by their moanings inform the hunters of their proceedings.
In these pits they are forced to remain until they have been tamed by hunger, just as is the case with those animals that are tied to the trees. When they are sufficiently tame, the hunter throws into the pit successive bundles of jungle grass. These the sagacious animal arranges under his feet in such a way that he soon raises himself sufficiently high to step upon the level earth, where he is received by the hunters and his tame elephants. These “pitted” elephants, as they are called, are not held in high estimation, as there is always danger that they may have suffered some injury by the fall.
Just as tame elephants are brought to capture the wild animals, so are tame stags taught to capture those of their own species. An account of the sport is given in the “Private Life of an Eastern King”:—
“I have never heard of trained stags being employed elsewhere as I saw them employed in Oude.... In our rides in the neighborhood of the lake, near which we encamped, we lighted upon a fine open country adjoining a forest, which would answer admirably for the purpose. The adjoining wood was full of the smaller game of Oude, or, if not smaller, at all events the more harmless, among which the wild deer must be classed as one. Skilful beaters were sent off into the forest to drive the deer, as if unintentionally,—that is, without violence, or making much noise,—toward the point of the forest adjoining the open space which I have just mentioned. Here, protected by its watching guardians, the most warlike and powerful of its males, the herd was congregated in apparent safety.
“We had about a dozen trained stags, all males, with us. These, well acquainted with the object for which they were sent forward, advanced at a gentle trot over the open ground toward the skirt of the wood. They were observed at once by the watchers of the herd, and the boldest of the wild animals advanced to meet them. Whether the intention was to welcome them peaceably, or to do battle for their pasturage, I cannot tell, but in a few minutes the parties were engaged in a furious contest. Head to head, antlers to antlers, the tame deer and the wild fought with great fury. Each of the tame animals, every one of them large and formidable, was closely contested with a wild adversary, standing chiefly on the defensive, not in any feigned battle or mimicry of war, but in a hard-fought combat. We now made our appearance in the open ground on horseback, advancing toward the scene of conflict. The deer on the skirts of the wood, seeing us, took to flight, but those actually engaged maintained their ground, and continued the contest.
“In the meantime a party of native huntsmen, sent for the purpose, gradually drew near to the wild stags, getting in between them and the forest. What their object was we were not at the time aware; indeed, it was not one that we could have approved or encouraged. They made their way to the rear of the wild stags, which were still combating too fiercely to mind them; they approached the animals, and, with a skilful cut of their long knives, the poor warriors fell hamstrung. We felt pity for the noble animals as we saw them fall helplessly on the ground, unable longer to continue the contest, and pushed down by the tame stags. Once down, they were unable to rise again.
“The tame ones were called off in a moment; not one of them pursued his victory. Their work was done; they obeyed the call of their keepers almost at once, and were led off like hounds, some of them bearing evidence in their gored chests that the contest in which they had been engaged was no sham, but a reality. As we rode up we saw them led off, triumphantly capering over the ground as if proud of their exploits, tossing their fine spreading antlers about joyously, and sometimes looking as if they would enjoy a little more fighting,—this time with each other.”
The antelope is sometimes used in a similar manner. The largest and most powerful male antelopes are trained for the purpose, and are sent toward the herd with nooses fastened on their horns. The wild antelopes soon come out to fight the intruders, and are caught by the nooses.
There is another sport of which the Indians are very fond, namely, the chase of the deer by means of the chetah, or hunting leopard. This animal is by no means the same species as the common leopard, from which it is easily distinguished by its much larger legs, its comparatively bushy tail, and a crest or ridge of hair along the neck. It is not so much of a tree-climber as the common leopard, and though it can ascend a tree, very seldom does so. Whether the common leopard could be trained to catch deer is rather doubtful. The experiment has not been tried, probably owing to the fact that the chetah performs its part so well that there is no object in trying another animal.
Chetahs are very docile creatures, and, when tame, seem to be as fond of notice as cats. This I can personally testify, having been in the same cage with the animals at the Zoölogical Gardens, and found them very companionable, even allowing me, though after some protest in the way of growling and spitting, to take their paws in my hand, and push out the talons.