Wild Beasts and Their Ways, Reminiscences of Europe, Asia, Africa and America Part 5

Two or three men ought to sit in the howdah during the process of lacing, so as to press it down tightly upon the pad, otherwise it will become loose during the march, and probably lean over to one side, which is uncomfortable to both man and beast. A large hide of the sambur deer, well cured and greased so as to be soft and pliable, should, invariably protect the belly of the elephant, and the flanks under the fore legs, from the friction of the girthing rope. The breastplate and crupper also require attention. These ought to be of the same quality of cotton rope as used for the girths, but that portion of the crupper which pa.s.ses beneath the tail should pa.s.s through an iron tube bent specially to fit, like the letter V elongated, U. This is a great safeguard against galling, and I believe it was first suggested by Mr. G. P. Sanderson.

A fine male elephant, well accoutred with his howdah thoroughly secured, and a good mahout, is a splendid mount, and the rider has the satisfaction of feeling that his animal is well up to his weight. I do not know a more agreeable sensation than the start in the early morning upon a thoroughly dependable elephant, with all the belongings in first-rate order, and a mahout who takes a real interest in his work; a thorough harmony exists between men and beast, the rifles are in their places, and you feel prepared for anything that may happen during the hazardous adventures of the day.

But how much depends upon that mahout! It is impossible for an ordinary bystander to comprehend the secret signs which are mutually understood by the elephant and his guide, the gentle pressure of one toe, or the compression of one knee, or the delicate touch of a heel, or the almost imperceptible swaying of the body to one side; the elephant detects every movement, howsoever slight, and it is thus mysteriously guided by its intelligence; the mighty beast obeys the unseen helm of thought, just as a huge s.h.i.+p yields by apparent instinct to the insignificant appendage which directs her course, the rudder. All good riders know the mystery of a "good hand" upon a horse; this is a thing that is understood, but cannot be described except by a negative. There are persons who can sit a horse gracefully and well, but who have not the instinctive gift of hand. The horse is aware of this almost as soon as the rider has been seated in the saddle. In that case, whether the horse be first-cla.s.s or not, there will be no comfort for the animal, and no ease for the rider.

If such a person puts his horse at a fence, the animal will not be thoroughly convinced that his rider wishes him to take it. There are more accidents occasioned by a "bad hand" than by any other cause. If this is the case with a horse well bitted, what must be the result should an elephant be guided by a mahout of uncertain temperament? The great trouble when travelling on an elephant is the difficulty in getting the mahout to obey an order immediately, and at the same time to convey that order to the animal without the slightest hesitation.

Natives frequently hesitate before they determine the right from left.

This is exasperating to the highest degree, and is destructive to the discipline of an elephant. There must be no uncertainty; if there is the slightest vacillation, it will be felt instinctively in the muscles of the rider, and the animal, instead of obeying mechanically the requisite pressure of knee or foot, feels that the mahout does not exactly know what he is about. This will cause the elephant to swing his head, instead of keeping steady and obeying the order without delay. In the same manner, when tiger-shooting, the elephant will at once detect anything like tremor on the part of his mahout. Frequently a good elephant may be disgraced by the nervousness of his guide, nothing being so contagious as fear.

Although I may be an exception in the non-admiration of the elephant's sagacity to the degree in which it is usually accepted, there is no one who more admires or is so foolishly fond of elephants. I have killed some hundreds in my early life, but I have learnt to regret the past, and 1 nothing would now induce me to shoot an elephant unless it were either a notorious malefactor, or in self-defence. There is, however, a peculiar contradiction in the character of elephants that tends to increase the interest in the animal. If they were all the same, there would be a monotony; but this is never the case, either among animals or human beings, although they may belong to one family. The elephant, on the other hand, stands so entirely apart from all other animals, and its performances appear so extraordinary owing to the enormous effect which its great strength produces instantaneously, that its peculiarities interest mankind more than any smaller animal. Yet, when we consider the actual apt.i.tude for learning, or the natural habits of the creature, we are obliged to confess that in proportion to its size the elephant is a mere fool in comparison with the intelligence of many insects. If the elephant could form a home like the bee, and store up fodder for a barren season; if it could build a nest of comfort like a bird, to shelter itself from inclement weather; if it could dam up a river like the beaver, to store water for the annual drought; if it could only, like the ordinary squirrel or field mouse, make a store for a season of scarcity, how marvellous we should think this creature, simply because it is so huge! It actually does nothing remarkable, unless specially instructed; but it is this inertia that renders it so valuable to man.

If the elephant were to be continually exerting its natural intelligence, and volunteering all manner of gigantic performances in the hope that they would be appreciated by its rider, it would be unbearable; the value of the animal consists in its capacity to learn, and in its pa.s.sive demeanour, until directed by the mahout's commands.

Nothing can positively determine the character of any elephant; every animal, I believe, varies more or less in courage according to its state of health, which must influence the nervous system. The most courageous man may, if weakened by sickness, be disgusted with himself by starting at an unexpected sound, although upon ordinary occasions he would not be affected. Animals cannot describe their feelings, and they may sometimes feel "out of sorts" without being actually ill, but the nervous system may be unstrung.

I once saw a ridiculous example of sudden panic in an otherwise most dependable elephant. This was a large male belonging to the Government, which had been lent to me for a few months, and was thoroughly staunch when opposed to a charging tiger; in fact, I believe that Moolah Bux was afraid of nothing, and he was the best s.h.i.+kar elephant I have ever ridden. One day we were driving a rocky hill for a tiger that was supposed to be concealed somewhere among the high gra.s.s and broken boulders, and, as the line of beaters was advancing, I backed the elephant into some thick jungle, which commanded an open but narrow glade at the foot of the low hill. Only the face of the elephant was exposed, and as this was grayish brown, something similar to the colour of the leafless bushes, we were hardly noticeable to anything that might break covert.

The elephant thoroughly understood the work in hand; and as the loud yells and shouts of the beaters became nearer, Moolah Bux p.r.i.c.ked his ears and kept a vigilant look-out. Suddenly a hare emerged about 100 yards distant; without observing our well-concealed position it raced at full speed directly towards us, and in a few seconds it ran almost between the elephant's legs as it made for the protection of the jungle.

The mighty Moolah Bux fairly bolted with a sudden terror as this harmless and tiny creature dashed beneath him, and although he recovered himself after 5 or 6 yards, nevertheless for the moment the monster was scared almost by a mouse.

It is this uncertainty of character that has rendered the elephant useless for military purposes in the field since the introduction of fire-arms. In olden times there can be no doubt that a grand array of elephantine cavalry, with towers containing archers on their backs, would have been an important factor when in line of battle; but elephants are useless against fire-arms, and in our early battles with the great hordes brought against us by the princes of India, their elephants invariably turned tail, and added materially to the defeat of their army.

Only a short time ago, at Munich, a serious accident was occasioned by a display of ten or twelve elephants during some provincial fete, when they took fright at the figure of a dragon vomiting fire, and a general stampede was the consequence, resulting in serious injuries to fifteen or sixteen persons.

I once had an elephant who ought to have killed me upon several occasions through sheer panic, which induced him to run away like a railway locomotive rus.h.i.+ng through a forest. This was the tusker Lord Mayo, who, although a good-tempered harmless creature, appeared to be utterly devoid of nerves, and would take fright at anything to which it was unaccustomed. The sound of the beaters when yelling and shouting in driving jungle was quite sufficient to start this animal off in a senseless panic, not always for a short distance, as on one occasion it ran at full speed for upwards of a mile through a dense forest, in spite of the driving-hook of the mahout, which had been applied with a maximum severity.

It is curious to observe how all the education of an elephant appears to vanish when once the animal takes fright and bolts for the nearest jungle. That seems to be the one idea which is an instinct of original nature, to retreat into the concealment of a forest.

I was on one occasion mounted upon Lord Mayo in the Balagh district when the beaters were not dependable. A tiger had killed a bullock at the foot of a wooded hill bordered by an open plain. As the beaters had misbehaved upon several occasions by breaking their line, I determined to take command of the beat in person. I therefore formed the line in the open, with every man equidistant, there being about a hundred and twenty villagers. I had placed my s.h.i.+kari with a rifle in a convenient position about 200 yards in advance, upon a mucharn or platform that had been constructed for myself.

Having after some trouble arranged the beaters in a proper line, I gave the order for an advance. In an instant the shouts arose, and three or four tom-toms added to the din.

I was mounted upon Lord Mayo near the centre of the line in the open glade. No sooner had the noise begun, than a violent panic seized this senseless brute, and without the slightest warning it rushed straight ahead for the thick forest at a pace that would nearly equal that of a luggage train. It was in vain that the mahout dug the iron spike into its head and alternately seized its ears by the unsparing hook, away it ran, regardless of all punishment or persuasion, until it reached the jungle, and with a crash we entered in full career!

Fortunately there was no howdah, only a pad well secured by thick ropes.

To clutch these tightly, and to dodge the opposing branches by ducking the head, now swinging to the right, then doubling down upon the left to allow the bending trees to sweep across the pad, then flinging oneself nearly over the flank to escape a bough that threatened instant extermination; all these gymnastics were performed and repeated in a few seconds only, as the panic-stricken brute ploughed its way, regardless of all obstructions, which threatened every instant to sweep us off its back. The active mahout of my other elephant, knowing the character of Lord Mayo, had luckily accompanied us with a spear, and although at the time I was unaware of his presence, he was exerting himself to the utmost in a vain endeavour to overtake our runaway elephant. At first I imagined that the great pace would soon be slackened, and that a couple of hundred yards would exhaust the animal's wind, especially as the ground was slightly rising. Instead of this, it was going like a steam-engine, and if there had been the usual amount of th.o.r.n.y creepers we should have been torn to pieces.

" Keep him straight for the hill," I shouted, as I saw we were approaching an inclination. "Don't let him turn to right or left, keep his head straight for the steep ground;" and the mahout, who had been yelling for a.s.sistance, and had lost both his turban and skull-cap, did all that he could by tunnelling into the brute's head with his formidable hook to direct it straight up the hill. I never knew an elephant go at such a pace over rocky ground. Young trees were smashed down, some branches torn, others bent forward, which swung backwards with dangerous force, and yet on we tore without a sign of diminis.h.i.+ng speed. How I longed for an anchor to have brought up our runaway s.h.i.+p head to wind! We had the coupling chains upon the pad, and my interpreter, Modar Bux, at length succeeded in releasing these, and in throwing them down for any person following to make use of. After a run of quite half a mile, we fortunately arrived at a really steep portion of the hill, where the rocks were sufficiently large to present a difficulty to any runaway. The mahout who had been following our course, breathless and with bleeding feet, here overtook us. Placing himself in advance of the elephant, who seemed determined to continue its flight among the rocks, he dug the spear deep into the animal's trunk, and kept repeating the apparently cruel thrusts until at length it stopped.

Several men now arrived with the coupling chains, which were at length with difficulty adjusted, and the elephant's fore legs were shackled together. It was curious to observe the dexterous manner in which it resisted this operation, and had it not been for the dread of the spear I much doubt whether it could have been accomplished.

This was the first time that I had experienced a runaway elephant, but I soon found that both my steeds were equally untrustworthy. A few weeks after this event we had completed the morning's march and found the camp already prepared for our arrival, at a place called Ka.s.sli, which is a central depot for railway sleepers as they are received from the native contractors. These were carefully piled in squares of about twenty each, and covered a considerable area of ground at intervals. A large ox had died that morning, and as it was within 50 yards of the tent it was necessary to remove it; the vultures were already crowded in the surrounding trees waiting for its decomposition. As usual, none of the natives would defile themselves by touching the dead body. I accordingly gave orders that one of the elephants should drag it about a mile down wind away from the camp. Lord Mayo was brought to the spot, and the sweeper, being of a low caste, attached a very thick rope to the hind legs of the ox; the other end being made fast to the elephant's pad in such a manner as to form traces. The elephant did not exhibit the slightest interest in the proceeding, and everything was completed, the body of the ox being about 6 or 7 yards behind.

No sooner did Lord Mayo move forward in obedience to the mahout's command, and feel the tug of the weight attached, than he started off in a panic at a tremendous pace, dragging the body through the lanes between the piles of sleepers, upsetting them, and sending them flying in all directions, as the dead ox caught against the corners; and, helter-skelter, he made for the nearest jungle about 300 yards distant.

Fortunately some wood-cutters were there, who yelled and screamed to turn him back; but although this had the effect of driving him from the forest, he now started over the plain down hill, dragging the heavy ox behind as though it had been a rabbit, and going at such a pace that none of the natives could overtake him, although by this time at least twenty men were in full pursuit.

The scene was intensely ridiculous, and the whole village turned out to enjoy the fun of a runaway elephant with a dead ox bounding over the inequalities of the ground; no doubt Lord Mayo imagined that he was being hunted by the carcase which so persistently followed him wherever he went. There was no danger to the driver, as the elephant was kept away from the forest. The ground became exceedingly rough and full of holes from the soakage during the rainy season. This peculiar soil is much disliked by elephants, as the surface is most treacherous, and cavernous hollows caused by subterranean water action render it unsafe for the support of such heavy animals. The resistance of the dead ox, which constantly jammed in the abrupt depressions, began to tell upon the speed, and in a short time the elephant was headed, and surrounded by a mob of villagers. I was determined that he should now be compelled to drag the carcase quietly in order to accustom him to the burden; we therefore attached the coupling chains to his fore legs, and drove him gently, turning him occasionally to enable him to inspect the carcase that had smitten him with panic. In about twenty minutes he became callous, and regarded the dead body with indifference.

Although an elephant is capable of great speed, it cannot jump, neither can it lift all four legs off the ground at the same time; this peculiarity renders it impossible to cross any ditch with hard perpendicular sides that will not crumble or yield to pressure, if such a ditch should be wider than the limit of the animal's extreme pace. If the limit of a pace should be 6 feet, a 7-foot ditch would effectually stop an elephant.

Although the strength of an elephant is prodigious whenever it is fully exerted, it is seldom that the animal can be induced to exhibit the maximum force which it possesses. A rush of a herd of elephants, with a determined will against the enclosure of palisades used for their capture would probably break through the barrier, but they do not appear to know their strength, or to act together. This want of cohesion is a sufficient proof that in a wild state they are not so sagacious as they have been considered. I do not describe the kraal or keddah, which is so well known by frequent descriptions as the most ancient and practical method of capturing wild elephants; but although in Ceylon the kraal has been used from time immemorial, the Singhalese are certainly behind the age as compared with the great keddah establishments of India. In the latter country there is a ditch inside the palisaded enclosure, which prevents the elephants from exerting their force against the structure; in Ceylon this precaution is neglected, and the elephants have frequently effected a breach in the palisade. In Ceylon all the old elephants captured within the kraal or keddah are considered worthless, and only those of scarcely full growth are valued; in India, all elephants irrespective of their age are valued, and the older animals are as easily domesticated as the young.

The keddah establishment at Dacca is the largest in India, and during the last season, under the superintendence of Mr. G. P. Sanderson, 404 elephants were captured in the Garo Hills, 132 being taken in one drive.

It is difficult to believe that any district can continue to produce upon this wholesale scale, and it is probable that after a few years elephants will become scarce in the locality. Nevertheless there is a vast tract of forest extending into Burmah, and the migratory habits of the elephant at certain seasons may continue the supply, especially if certain fruits or foliage attract them to the locality.

This migratory instinct is beyond our powers of explanation in the case of either birds, beasts, or fishes. How they communicate, in order to organise the general departure, must remain a mystery. It is well known that in England, previous to the departure of the swallows, they may be seen sitting in great numbers upon the telegraph wires as though discussing the projected journey; in a few days after, there is not a swallow to be seen.

I once, and only once, had an opportunity of seeing elephants that were either migrating, or had just arrived from a migration. This was between 3 degrees and 4 degrees N. lat.i.tude in Africa, between Obbo and Farajok.

We were marching through an uninhabited country for about 30 miles, and in the midst of beautiful park-like scenery we came upon the magnificent sight of vast herds of elephants. These were scattered about the country in parties varying in numbers from ten to a hundred, while single bulls dotted the landscape with their majestic forms in all directions. In some places there were herds of twenty or thirty entirely composed of large tuskers; in other spots were parties of females with young ones interspersed, of varying growths, and this grand display of elephantine life continued for at least 2 miles in length as we rode parallel with the groups at about a quarter of a mile distant. It would have been impossible to guess the number, as there was no regularity in their arrangement, neither could I form any idea of the breadth of the area that was occupied. I have often looked back upon that extraordinary scene, and it occurred to me forcibly in after years, when I had 3200 elephants' tusks in one station of Central Africa, which must have represented 1600 animals slain for their fatal ivory.

The day must arrive when ivory will be a production of the past, as it is impossible that the enormous demand can be supplied. I have already explained that the African savage never tames a wild animal, neither does he exhibit any sympathy or pity, his desire being, like the gunner of the nineteenth century, to exterminate. It may be readily imagined that wholesale destruction is the result whenever some favourable opportunity delivers a large herd of elephants into the native hands.

There are various methods employed for trapping, or otherwise destroying. Pitfalls are the most common, as they are simple, and generally fatal. Elephants are thirsty creatures, and when in large herds they make considerable roads in their pa.s.sage towards a river.

They are nearly always to be found upon the same track when nightly approaching the usual spot for drinking or for a bath. It is therefore a simple affair to intercept their route by a series of deep pitfalls dug exactly in the line of their advance. These holes vary in shape; the circular are, I believe, the most effective, as the elephant falls head downwards, but I have seen them made of different shapes and proportions according to the individual opinions of the trappers.

It is exceedingly dangerous, when approaching a river, to march in advance of a party without first sending forward a few natives to examine the route in front. The pits are usually about 12 or 14 feet in depth. These are covered over with light wood, and crossed with slight branches or reeds, upon which is laid some long dry gra.s.s; this is covered lightly with soil, upon which some elephant's dung is scattered, as though the animal had dropped it during the action of walking. A little broken gra.s.s is carelessly distributed upon the surface, and the illusion is complete. The night arrives, and the unsuspecting elephants, having travelled many miles of thirsty wilderness, hurry down the incline towards the welcome river. Crash goes a leading elephant into a well-concealed pitfall! To the right and left the frightened members of the herd rush at the unlooked-for accident, but there are many other pitfalls cunningly arranged to meet this sudden panic, and several more casualties may arise, which add to the captures on the following morning, when the trappers arrive to examine the position of their pits.

The elephants are then attacked with spears while in their helpless position, until they at length succ.u.mb through loss of blood.

There is another terrible method of destroying elephants in Central Africa. During the dry season, when the withered herbage from 10 to 14 feet in height is most inflammable, a large herd of elephants may be found in the middle of such high gra.s.s that they can only be perceived should a person be looking down from some elevated point. If they should be espied by some native hunter, he would immediately give due notice to the neighbourhood, and in a short time the whole population would a.s.semble for the hunt. This would be arranged by forming a circle of perhaps 2 miles in diameter, and simultaneously firing the gra.s.s so as to create a ring of flames around the centre. An elephant is naturally afraid of fire, and it has an instinctive horror of the crackling of flames when the gra.s.s has been ignited. As the circle of fire contracts in approaching the encircled herd, they at first attempt retreat until they become a.s.sured of their hopeless position; they at length become desperate, being maddened by fear, and panic-stricken by the wild shouts of the thousands who have surrounded them. At length, half-suffocated by the dense smoke, and terrified by the close approach of the roaring flames, the unfortunate animals charge recklessly through the fire, burnt and blinded, to be ruthlessly speared by the bloodthirsty crowd awaiting this last stampede. Sometimes a hundred or more elephants are simultaneously destroyed in this wholesale slaughter. The flesh is then cut into long strips and dried, every portion of the animal being smoked upon frames of green wood, and the harvest of meat is divided among the villages which have contributed to the hunt. The tusks are also shared, a certain portion belonging by right to the various headmen and the chief.

When man determines to commence war with the animal kingdom the result must be disastrous to the beasts, if the human destroyers are in sufficient numbers to ensure success. Although fire-arms may not be employed, the human intelligence must always overpower the brute creation, but man must exist in numerical superiority if the wild beasts are to be fairly vanquished by a forced retreat from the locality. From my own observation I have concluded that wild animals of all kinds will withstand the dangers of traps, pitfalls, fire, and the usual methods for their destruction employed by savages, but they will be rapidly cleared out of an extensive district by the use of fire-arms. There is a peculiar effect in the report of guns which appears to excite the apprehension of danger in the minds of all animals. This is an extraordinary instance of the general intelligence of wild creatures, as they must be accustomed to the reports of thunder since the day of their birth. Nevertheless they draw a special distinction between the loud peal of thunder and the comparatively innocent explosion of a fire-arm.

Many years ago in Ceylon I devoted particular attention to this subject, especially as it affects the character of elephants. How those creatures manage to communicate with each other it is impossible to determine, but the fact remains that a very few days' shooting will clear out an extensive district, although the area may comprise a variation of open prairie with a large amount of forest. I have frequently observed, in the portion of Ceylon known as the Park country, the tracks of elephants in great numbers which have evidently been considerable herds that have joined together in a general retreat from ground which they considered insecure. In that district I have arrived at the proper season, when the gra.s.s after burning has grown to the height of about 2 feet, and it has literally been alive with elephants. In a week my late brother General Valentine Baker and myself shot thirty-two, and I sent a messenger to invite a friend to join us, in the expectation of extraordinary sport.

Upon his arrival after five or six days, there was not an elephant in the country, excepting two or three old single bulls which always infested certain spots.

The reports of so many heavy rifles, which of necessity were fired every evening at dusk in the days of muzzle-loaders, for the sake of cleaning, must have widely alarmed the country, but independently of this special cause there can be no doubt that after a few days' heavy shooting, the elephants will combine in some mysterious manner and disappear from an extensive district. In many ways these creatures are perplexing to the student of natural history. It would occur to most people that in countries where elephants abound we should frequently meet with those that are sick, or so aged that they cannot accompany the herd. Although for very many years I have hunted both in Asia and Africa I have never seen a sick elephant in a wild state, neither have I ever come across an example of imbecility through age. It is rarely we discover a dead elephant that has not met with a violent death, and only once in my life have I by accident found the remains of a tusker with the large tusks intact. This animal had been killed in a fight, as there were unmistakable signs of a fearful struggle, the ground being trodden deeply in all directions.

It is supposed by the natives that when an elephant is mortally sick it conceals itself in the thickest and most secluded portion of the jungle, to die in solitude. Most animals have the same instinct, which induces them to seek the shelter of some spot remote from all disturbance; and should we find their remains, it will be near water, where the thirst of disease has been a.s.suaged at the last moment. The ox tribe are subject to violent epidemics, and I have not only found the bodies of buffaloes in great numbers upon occasions during some malignant murrain, but they have been scattered throughout the country in all directions, causing a frightful stench, and probably extending the infection. A few years ago there was an epidemic among the bisons in the Reipore district of India; this spread into neighbouring districts over a large extent of country, and caused fearful ravages, but none of the deer tribe were attacked, the disease being confined specially to the genus Bos. There are interesting proofs of the specific poison of certain maladies which are limited in their action to a particular cla.s.s of animal. We find the same in vegetable diseases, where a peculiar insect will attack a distinct family of plants, or where a special variety of fungoid growth exerts a similar baneful influence.

Wounded elephants have a marvellous power of recovery when in their wild state, although they have no gift of surgical knowledge, their simple system being confined to plastering their wounds with mud, or blowing dust upon the surface. Dust and mud comprise the entire pharmacopoeia of the elephant, and this is applied upon the most trivial as well as upon the most serious occasion. If an elephant has a very slight sore back, it will quickly point out the tender part by blowing dust with its trunk upon the spot which it cannot reach. Should the mahout have seriously punished the crown with the cruel driving-hook, the elephant applies dust at the earliest opportunity. I have seen them, when in a tank, plaster up a bullet-wound with mud taken from the bottom. This application is beneficial in protecting the wound from the attack of flies. The effect of these disgusting insects is quite shocking when an unfortunate animal becomes fly-blown, and is literally consumed by maggots. An elephant possesses a wonderful superiority over all other animals in the trunk, which can either reach the desired spot directly, or can blow dust upon it when required. All shepherds in England appreciate the difficulty when their sheep are attacked by flies, but they can be relieved by the human hand; a wild animal, on the contrary, has no alleviation, and it must eventually succ.u.mb to its misery. There is a peculiar fly in most tropical climates, but more especially in Ceylon, which lays live maggots, instead of eggs that require some time to hatch. These are the most dreadful pests, as the lively young maggots exhibit a horrible activity in commencing their work the instant they see the light; they burrow almost immediately into the flesh, and grow to a large size within twenty-four hours, occasioning the most loathsome sores. The best cure for any wound thus attacked, and swarming with live maggots, is a teaspoonful of calomel applied and rubbed into the deep sore.

I have seen the Arabs in the Soudan adopt a most torturing remedy when a camel has suffered from a fly-blown sore back. Upon one occasion I saw a camel kneeling upon the ground with a number of men around it, and I found that it was to undergo a surgical operation for a terrible wound upon its hump. This was a hole as large and deep as an ordinary breakfast-cup, which was alive with maggots. The operator had been preparing a quant.i.ty of glowing charcoal, which was at a red heat. This was contained in a piece of broken chatty, a portion of a water jar, and it was dexterously emptied into the diseased cavity on the camel's back.

The poor creature sprang to its feet, and screaming with agony, dashed at full gallop across the desert in a frantic state, with the fire scorching its flesh, and doubtless making it uncomfortable for the maggots. Fire is the Arabs' vade mec.u.m; the actual cautery is deeply respected, and is supposed to be infallible. If internal inflammation should attack the patient, the surface is scored with a red-hot iron.

Should guinea-worm be suspected, there is no other course to pursue than to burn the suffering limb in a series of spots with a red-hot iron ramrod. The worm will shortly make its appearance at one of these apertures after some slight inflammation and suppuration. This fearful complaint is termed Frendeet in the Soudan, and it is absorbed into the system generally by drinking foul water. At the commencement of the rainy season, when the ground has been parched by the long drought of summer, the surface-water drains into the hollows and forms muddy pools.

The natives shun such water, as it is almost certain to contain the eggs of the guinea-worm. These in some mysterious manner are hatched within the body if swallowed in the act of drinking, and whether they develop in the stomach or in the intestines, it is difficult to determine, but the result is the same. The patient complains of rheumatic pains in one limb; this increases until the leg or arm swells to a frightful extent, accompanied by severe inflammation and great torment. The Arab pract.i.tioner declares that the worm is at work, and is seeking for a means of escape from the body. He accordingly burns half a dozen holes with a red-hot iron or ramrod. In a few days the head of the guinea-worm appears; it is immediately captured by a finely-split reed, and by degrees is wound like a cotton thread by turning the reed every day.

This requires delicate manipulation, otherwise the worm might break, and a portion remain in the flesh, which would increase the inflammation. An average guinea-worm would be about three feet in length. Animals do not appear to suffer from this complaint, although they are subject to the attacks of great varieties of parasites. Elephants are frequently troubled with internal worms. I witnessed a curious instance of the escape of such insects from the stomach through a hole caused by a bullet, nevertheless the animal appeared to be in good condition.

It was a fine moonlight night on the borders of Abyssinia that I sat up to watch the native crops, which were a great attraction to the wild elephants, although there was no heavy jungle nearer than 20 miles. It was the custom of these animals to start after sunset, and to arrive at about ten o'clock in the vast dhurra fields of the Arabs, who, being without fire-arms, could only scare them by shouts and flaming torches.

The elephants did not care much for this kind of disturbance, and they merely changed their position from one portion of the cultivated land to another more distant, and caused serious destruction to the crop (Sorghum vulgare), which was then nearly ripe. The land was rich, and the dhurra grew 10 or 12 feet high, with stems as thick as sugar-cane, while the large heads of corn contained several thousand grains the size of a split-pea. This was most tempting food for elephants, and they travelled nightly the distance named to graze upon the crops, and then retreated before sunrise to their distant jungles.

I do not enjoy night shooting, but there was no other way of a.s.sisting the natives, therefore I found myself watching, in the silent hours of night, in the middle of a perfect sea of cultivation, unbroken for many miles. There is generally a calm during the night, and there was so perfect a stillness that it was almost painful, the chirp of an insect sounding as loud as though it were a bird. At length there was a distant sound like wind, or the rush of a stream over a rocky bed. This might have been a sudden gust, but the sharp crackling of brittle dhurra stems distinctly warned us that elephants had invaded the field, and that they were already at their work of destruction.

As the dhurra is sown in parallel rows about 3 feet apart, and the ground was perfectly flat, there was no difficulty in approaching the direction whence the cracking of the dhurra could be distinctly heard.

The elephants appeared to be feeding towards us with considerable rapidity, and in a few minutes I heard the sound of crunching within 50 yards of me. I immediately ran along the clear pa.s.sage between the tall stems, and presently saw a black form close to me as it advanced in the next alley to my own. I do not think I was more than 4 or 5 yards from it when it suddenly turned its head to the right, and I immediately took a shot behind the ear. I had a white paper sight upon the muzzle of the large rifle (No. 10), which was plainly distinguished in the bright moonlight, and the elephant fell stone dead without the slightest struggle.

After some delay from the dispersion of my men who carried spare guns, I re-loaded, and followed in the direction which the herd had taken.

Although upon the "qui vive," they had not retreated far, as they were unaccustomed to guns, and they were determined to enjoy their supper after the long march of 20 miles to the attractive dhurra fields. I came up with them about three-quarters of a mile from the first shot; here there was the limit of cultivation, and all was wild prairie land; they had retreated by the way they had arrived, with the intention, no doubt, of returning again to the dhurra when the disturbing cause should have disappeared. I could see the herd distinctly as they stood in a compact body numbering some ten or twelve animals. The only chance was to run straight at them in order to get as near as possible before they should start, as I expected they would, in panic. Accordingly I ran forward, when, to my surprise, two elephants rushed towards me, and I was obliged to fire right and left. One fell to the ground for a moment, but recovered; the other made no sign, except by whirling round and joining the herd in full retreat.

That night I used a double-barrel muzzle-loader (No. 10), with conical bullet made of 12 parts lead, 1 part quicksilver, 7 drams of powder.