“There was a fight! The underwood was levelled, and the boar rushed to and fro with Smut, Bran, Lena, and Lucifer, all upon him. Yoick to him! and some of the most daring of the maddened pack went in. The next instant we were upon him mingled with a confused mass of hounds; and throwing our whole weight upon the boar, we gave him repeated thrusts, apparently to little purpose. Round came his head and gleaming tusks to the attack of his fresh enemies, but old Smut held him by the nose, and, although the bright tusks were immediately buried in his throat, the stanch old dog kept his hold. Away went the boar covered by a mass of dogs, and bearing the greater part of our weight in addition, as we hung on to the hunting-knives buried in his shoulders. For about fifty paces he tore through the thick jungle, crashing it like a cobweb. At length he again halted; the dogs, the boar, and ourselves were mingled in a heap of confusion. All covered with blood and dirt, our own cheers added to the wild bay of the infuriated hounds, and the savage roaring of the boar. Still he fought and gashed the dogs right and left. He stood about thirty-eight inches high, and the largest dogs seemed like puppies beside him; still not a dog relaxed his hold, and he was covered with wounds. I made a lucky thrust for the nape of his neck. I felt the point of the knife touch the bone; the spine was divided, and he fell dead.
“Smut had two severe gashes in the throat, Lena was cut under the ear, and Bran’s mouth was opened completely up to his ear in a horrible wound.”
But the boar sometimes comes off victorious; and the death of poor old Smut has never been revenged. He was almost cut in half before Mr Baker reached the bay, which lasted for an hour. At the end of that period, Smut, gashed with many additional wounds, was expiring, and three of the best remaining dogs were severely wounded; the dogs were with difficulty called off the victorious monster; and Mr Baker records, with feelings of profound emotion, the only defeat he ever experienced, and which terminated fatally to the gallant leader of his pack.
The usual drawbacks and discomforts attendant upon a new settlement having been overcome, our author assures us that Newera Ellia forms a delightful place of residence. But it must not be supposed that, on the occasion of his second visit to Ceylon, he confined himself to elk-hunting and agriculture. He is frequently tempted from his highland home to the elephant country, which is only about two days’ journey distant; and the latter part of his volume abounds with exciting descriptions of new encounters with rogues, involving the usual amount of personal hazard; and lest the too ardent pursuit of this fascinating sport seems scarcely to justify the apparent cruelty it involves, it must be remembered that it is not more cruel to kill a large animal than a small one, though this is a distinction we are too apt to make; and when the large animal is also often destructive to life and property, its slaughter is not only justifiable, but commendable in those who are disposed to risk their lives for the benefit of the public and their own gratification.
Indeed, so extensive are the ravages committed by elephants, that a price is offered by government for their tails; since, however, the procuring of tails has become a fashionable amusement among Europeans, the reward has been reduced to the miserable sum of 7s. 6d. The Moorish part of the community were the recognised elephant-slayers, so long as there was profit to be made by these means. They now devote themselves almost entirely to the capture of elephants alive for the purpose of exportation to India. Mr Baker gives an amusing account of having assisted to catch an elephant. He started with his brother and thirty Moormen, armed with ropes, towards a herd of seven, of whose presence in the neighbourhood intelligence had been received. Upon coming in sight of the herd, one was selected for capture. Mr Baker and his brother and their gun-bearers, taking the wind, advance under cover of the jungle to open the ball. This they do in style, bagging six elephants in almost the same number of minutes. The seventh starts off in full retreat with the multitude at his heels. At last an active Moorman dexterously throws a noose of thick but finely twisted hide rope over one of his hind-legs. Following the line which the unconscious elephant trails after him like a long snake, they wait until he enters the jungle, and then unceremoniously check his further progress by taking a double turn round a tree.
“Any but a hide rope of that diameter must have given way; but this stretched like a harp-string, and, at every effort to break it, the yielding elasticity of the hide threw him upon his head, and the sudden contraction after the fall jerked his leg back to its full length.
“After many vain but tremendous efforts to free himself, he turned his rage upon his pursuers, and charged every one right and left; but he was safely tied, and we took some little pleasure in teasing him. He had no more chance than a fly in a spider’s web. As he charged in one direction, several nooses were thrown round his hind-legs; then his trunk was caught in a slip-knot, then his fore-legs, then his neck, and the ends of all these ropes being brought together and hauled tight, he was effectually hobbled.
“This had taken some time to effect (about half an hour), and we now commenced a species of harness to enable us to drive him to the village.
“The first thing was to secure his trunk by tying it to one of his fore-legs; this leg was then fastened with a slack rope to one of his hind-legs, which prevented him from taking a longer stride than about two feet; his neck was then tied to his other fore-leg, and two ropes were made fast to both his fore and hind legs; the ends of these ropes being manned by thirty men.”
He was then driven to the village, and three days afterwards was sufficiently tamed to be mounted. His value was then about £15.