The Elephant 71 



would never forgive me for the indignity I had put upon 

 him. Always upon dismounting he would try to rise, so 

 as to repeat his manoeuvre, and it was necessary to make 

 him kneel down completely before I got off. Nor would 

 I ever again feed him from my hand, as I believe that 

 if he could have got hold of me he would have trampled 

 me." 



There is a tragic story told by the same author, of an 

 elephant who was "must." His keeper did not know it, 

 and, in fact, could not be persuaded that such was the 

 case. 



Barras left Neemuch with a number of elephants, and 

 among the rest an old friend and favorite of his, Roghanath 

 Guj, whose mahout, Ghassee Ram, had been in charge of 

 him for eighteen years and thus acquired a very great 

 influence over the animal. Colonel Barras, who had not 

 seen this beast for some time, was at once struck by the 

 indifference displayed to his expressions of friendliness, 

 and to those little presents of sweets which these creatures 

 enjoy so much. Evidently Roghanath Guj was changed ; 

 ill, perhaps .-* No, said and swore his keeper, there was 

 nothing the matter. His dulness, that sombre air which 

 excited surprise and suspicion, was nothing more than a 

 little irritability caused by the extremely hot weather. So 

 Barras yielded his better judgment to greater experience, 

 and the consequence was that the next day, while beating 

 for a tiger, the elephant suddenly rushed upon one of the 

 attendants, and would have killed him if the man had 

 not taken off his turban and left it on a bush, while 

 he himself slipped down into the shade of a deep ravine. 



