1 6 AFRICAN ELEPHANT 



round. Elephant-meat, though very coarse-grained, is well flavoured ; 

 and every portion of the carcase, except the hide and intestines, is 

 utilised for food by the natives. The skin of the stomach is made 

 into a blanket ; and the leg-bones, which contain no marrow, when 

 chopped up and boiled yield a quantity of fat. The portions of an 

 elephant most fancied by the old professional South African hunters 

 were the heart, the thick part of the trunk, the fat meat contained in 

 the large hollow above the eye, and the foot. The last should be 

 roasted, in its skin, in a hole dug in the ground over which a large fire 

 is kept burning for about forty-eight hours, when the inside becomes 

 gelatinous, and can be scooped out with a spoon ; in taste it resembles 

 calf's head. 



" In the centre of the hollow above the eye of the African elephant 

 are two small holes or pores in the skin, through which the animal 

 appears to perspire, as this part of its head always looks black and 

 damp after a run in the hot sun. These pores are almost invariably 

 plugged with fragments of stick, which may sometimes be about half 

 the thickness of a lead-pencil. The ends of these twigs never showed 

 from the outside, and I found the' first by accident, after which I 

 looked for them. How the pores become thus plugged remains a 

 mystery. 



" Before the introduction of fire-arms elephants were generally 

 killed by the natives of the interior of South Africa by means of 

 heavily shafted assegais, plunged into their bodies from trees, and left 

 to work in deeper and deeper. Sometimes, however, they were ham- 

 strung while standing asleep with broad, thin-bladed axes made for the 

 purpose : if the back-tendon was severed by the stroke, the elephant 

 became helpless, and could be despatched at leisure with assegais, but if 

 this was not cut, it went off and probably recovered. With either a fore 

 or a hind leg broken an elephant can scarcely move at all ; and with a 

 broken shoulder will stand quite still, with the foot of the injured limb 

 doubled up and resting on the toes. If approached when in such a 

 plight, the poor brute will raise its ears and trunk and scream with 

 rage, and finally, in all probability, pitch on its head in a vain effort to 

 reach its enemy. Sometimes, though seldom, elephants are caught in 

 pitfalls by the natives, but I have never known any but young animals 

 secured in this manner. As a rule, a herd of elephants will walk 

 through a series of pitfalls without loss, uncovering them one after 

 another. Cows with small calves are liable to be vicious, but when a 

 herd is pursued, if a calf be too young to keep up with its mother, it 

 is allowed to drop out and take its chance. On three occasions I have 



