A NATURALIST IN CEYLON WOOD 535 



lust for killing; it is a form of reversion to his original savagery. 

 Lest I should be accused of using intemperate language, let me 

 quote the words of Tennett, who wrote in 1860 what is still acknowl- 

 edged to be the best account of Ceylon in general and of her natural 

 history in particular : 



An ordinary traveler seldom comes upon elephants unless after sunset or 

 toward daybreak, as they go to or return from their nightly visits to the 

 tanks ; but when by accident a herd is disturbed by day they evince, if 

 unattacked, no disposition to become assailants ; and if the attitude of defense 

 which they instinctively assume prove sufficient to check the approach of 

 the intruder, no further demonstration is to be apprehended. The shooting 

 of elephants in Ceylon has been described with tiresome iteration in the 

 successive journals of sporting gentlemen, but one who turns to their pages 

 for traits of the animal and his instincts is disappointed to find little beyond 

 graphic sketches of the daring and exploits of his pursuers, most of whom, 

 having had no further opportunity of observation than is derived from a 

 casual encounter with the outraged animal, have apparently tried to exalt 

 their own prowess by misrepresenting the ordinary character of the elephant, 

 describing him as " savage, wary, and revengeful." The shooting of an elephant, 

 whatever endurance and adroitness the sport may display in other respects, 

 requires the smallest possible skill as a marksman. Generally speaking, a 

 single ball, planted in the forehead, ends the existence of the noble creature 

 instantaneously ; and expert sportsmen have been known to kill riyht and 

 left, one v/ith each barrel ; but occasionally an elephant will not fall before 

 several shots have been lodged in his head. To persons like myself, who are 

 not addicted to what is called " sport," the statement of these wholesale 

 slaughters is calculated to excite surprise and curiosity as to the nature 

 of a passion that impels men to self-exposure and privation, in a pursuit which 

 presents nothing but the monotonous recurrence of scenes of blood and 

 suffering. 



The taming of the wild elephant after his capture has been largely 

 in the hands of a particular Singhalese caste for many centuries. The 

 methods of taking and training these huge beasts is fairly well known 

 and need not be discussed here. I have often talked over these matters 

 with native hunters and keepers and find that preparing the wild 

 animal for his various tasks and functions is a comparatively simple 

 matter and to be successful must take the form of kindness and 

 petting tempered by firmness, and never marred by cruelty. The 

 chief employments of the tamed elephant are clearing forest lands, 

 working in the brickyards, carrying and piling timber, stone, and 

 other heavy objects, drawing wagons, cultivating the land and acting 

 as ceremonial adjuncts to a temple or in the entourage of a nobleman. 



The methods employed in taming a wild elephant extend over a 

 period of several weeks or months; females are more docile and 

 tractible than males and (as in the case of some human beings) there 

 are some individuals that are naturally vicious, troublesome, and 

 subject to fits of stubbornness and temper. The elephant's obedience 

 to his mahout is due partly to fear but mostly to real affection, and 

 many are the tales told to prove the claim that love rules his (or her) 



