A GRAND CHASM. 159 



perpendicular as the nature of the earth admitted. Scarcely a beam of 

 sunlight, except at mid-day, could penetrate the abyss, and the cold at 

 this early hour was intense. Both sides of the gigantic cleft were clothed 

 with wild plantains, the beautiful broad leaves of which, ten feet in length 

 and two wide, were of an almost transparent emerald green. Orchids of 

 various kinds, especially a gorgeous yellow one like laburnum, but fuller; 

 tree-ferns ; and across the ravine just above our heads, the overlacing of 

 creepers — a peculiar feature in Eastern forests, — were wonderful to see. 

 There were few birds, and the only signs of game were the tracks of the 

 tiger I had seen the print of further back, and which had come by the 

 gorge, and those of wild elephants that had used it some days previously. 

 Gool Budden's party had cut some of the trunks of the trees lying across 

 the stream which had impeded the elephants that carried their provisions. 



We marched for three hours along this stream. The men were ordered 

 not to talk or sing to their elephants ; such sounds seemed impious intru- 

 sions on the grand silence that prevailed. The murmur of the stream and 

 the plashing of the line of elephants were the only sounds which broke it. 

 I felt cold even with a thick overcoat and rug, and the unfortunate mahouts, 

 who were lightly clad and not particularly appreciative of the beauties of 

 nature, were doubtless glad when we left the grand cleft for the more open 

 jungles warmed by the sun. By evening we reached Gool Budden's camp 

 on the Myanee, at a place called Bkowalkali, after one of the most varied 

 and pleasant marches I remember. 



The portion of the herd which he had caught, numbering thirty-two 

 animals, was a very good lot, containing few old or small ones. About 

 twenty-five elephants (the remainder of the herd) which refused to enter 

 the stockade with their fellows were still at large in the forest within the 

 original surround. Gool Budden had been engaged in making another 

 stockade at a fresh point ; this was now ready, and in it we hoped to 

 impound them. The men had mismanaged the tying of the elephants 

 already captured, and had caused the dislocation of one fine beast's hind- 

 legs at the hock — or, more properly speaking, knee-joint, as an elephant 

 has no hocks — and a similar accident to one hind-leg of another. This 

 was through their being left in the enclosure with their legs tied to trees 

 during the night instead of being removed from the stockade. Elephants 

 are very mischievous, and sometimes display the trait observable in many 

 other animals of ill-treating such of their fellows as are in distress, particu- 

 larly if suffering from wounds or accidents. These two poor elephants had 

 been butted by the others and knocked over, their hind-legs, winch were 

 braced close up to the trees, being wrenched out of joint by their fall. The 



