402 



ELEPHANT. 



with her young one is captured, two or three days' 

 absence will make her entirely forget it though the 

 young one itself recognises her, and utters the most 

 plaintive cries for the purpose of attracting her atten- 

 tion. This fact, which appears to be well authenti- 

 cated, is pretty strong evidence against the sagacity, 

 affection, and other half-reasoning qualities which 

 fiction has attributed to the elephant. 



As the pastures of the elephant are perennial pas- 

 tures which feel no season of want and, indeed, such 

 pastures only are adapted to animals requiring so 

 much food, elephants have no rutting season, com- 

 mon or nearly common to the whole herd, for young 

 ones are found at all stages of their growth at almost 

 every season of the year. The length of time during 

 which the female elephant suckles her young one, has 

 not been accurately ascertained ; and, indeed, from 

 the indifference to it which we have mentioned that 

 she shows, it is highly probable that the period varies 

 much according to circumstances. There seems to be 

 a natural provision for this in the early appearance 

 of the milk teeth in young elephants, which, though 

 small in the first instance, appear to be capable of 

 masticating the softer vegetables when the animal is 

 only a few weeks old : this may be a necessary pro- 

 vision in the economy of elephants, because at certain 

 seasons the female may have to range farther and 

 faster for food than her young one is able to follow 

 her, while the place which she leaves may still afford 

 a supply sufficient for the support of her deserted 

 offspring. 



Notwithstanding the great size and strength of the 

 elephant, the fury which he evinces when excited, 

 and the perfect safety in which he lives in forests 

 which contain the most bold and ferocious beasts of 

 prey, and the most formidable reptiles, he is no match 

 for man, in even the lowest degree of civilisation. 

 The rude man has only to kindle a fire, and the ele- 

 phant flies in the utmost consternation ; or he digs a 

 Eit, and conceals it with green boughs ; the elephant 

 ills into it, and his very weight and strength are the 

 means of his destruction. The elephant is to all 

 appearance safe from the paw of the tiger, the jaws 

 of the alligator, the crushing folds of the python, and 

 e poison of the most deadly serpent ; but he has 

 no defence against the wiles of man. The countries 

 which he inhabits contain, amid the luxuriance with 

 which they are adorned, vegetable poisons of the 

 most mortal character. The rude man has found out 

 by experience how to concentrate these, till they shall 

 speedily curdle the blood, or benumb the frame even 

 of the elephant. So he dips his weapon in the deadly 

 virus, bends his simple bow, sets his arrow on the 

 string, takes his aim with certainty, and in brief space 

 the giant volume of the elephant tumbles lifeless on 

 the earth. 



The animal senses of the elephant appear to be all 

 very acute ; while he is in health the whole of the 

 skin is sensitive to very trifling causes ; and the top 

 of the proboscis has probably as keen a sense as the 

 points of the human fingers. His eye, also, is keen, 

 though the range of his vision is probably not very 

 extensive. Indeed, sight is not the most useful sense 

 in such places as those which the elephant inhabits ; 

 and the senses of animals are in general adapted to 

 the nature of their haunts. The sense of hearing is 

 a much more serviceable one, among tall vegetation, 

 than that of sight ; and from the size of the elephant's 

 ears, and the freedom with which he can move them 



backwards and forwards, there is reason to conclude 

 that, in him, this sense is very acute. That the 

 sense of taste is far more keen than in many animals 

 that feed upon vegetables, is proved by the fact of the 

 elephant being so partial to sweet or racy vegetables, 

 and even to sweetmeats. The sense of smell appears, 

 however, to be the leading one, both in enabling the 

 elephant to find that which he seeks, and to avoid that 

 which it is his instinct to shun. Some naturalists have 

 said that the proboscis does not possess this sense, but 

 the saying appears to be a mistake. Every animal 

 which has a perforated nose, whether that nose be 

 long or short, uses it as an organ of smelling ; and no 

 good cause can be shown why the elephant should be 

 an exception to the general rule. From the other 

 functions which this organ performs, it must be very 

 copiously supplied with nerves ; and we have direct 

 evidence that the elephant chooses or rejects those 

 articles which are offered to him by means of his pro- 

 boscis ; nor is there any instance mentioned of his 

 having ever attempted to distinguish scent by means 

 of any other part of his body. But the elephant 

 hunters know full well how necessary it is to give the 

 elephant the wind, or approach him on the lee-side 

 only ; for if they attempt to come upon him from the 

 windward, he is either off, or so excited and prepared, 

 that he becomes the hunter, and they the hunted. 



The intelligence usually attributed to the elephant 

 is a different matter. We cannot say positively that 

 the intelligence of any animal is in the ratio of the 

 volume of its brain as compared with that of the 

 whole body, because the functions of the brain are of 

 too obscure and delicate a nature for being made the 

 foundation of absolute demonstration. Still the degree 

 of animal sagacity, leaving intellect altogether out of 

 the question, bears some relation to the volume of the 

 brain, although we are not able to say that they follow 

 the same numerical proportion, or even to state the 

 law in a numerical series of any kind. 



That there should be an increase of the one with 

 an increase of the other, is in perfect accordance with 

 the general analogy of nature, which runs through the 

 whole system of animal life, and forms no small part 

 of the beauty of that system. The power, especially 

 the mechanical power, of a particular organ, such as 

 the clutching of a paw or the turning of a proboscis, 

 is a local matter, and may depend on the extent to 

 which that particular organ is furnished with the 

 energy of life ; and ganglions and local nerves may 

 accomplish this in the largest of the mammalia, as 

 well as in the most minute of the insect tribe. But 

 that which we call sagacity does not depend on any 

 thing local, it' belongs to the whole system ; and, 

 therefore, if we are to refer it anywhere, we might 

 refer it to the brain, or the central mass of the nervous 

 system ; at least, if we do not this, we must abandon 

 all analogy, and set at nought the results of all obser- 

 vation ; well, if we compare the brain in man with 

 the whole mass of the body (and the human brain can 

 be no more mental, at the same time that it is more 

 material, than the brain of any other animals) ; and 

 if we make the same comparison in the elephant, we 

 find that in man, when not overloaded with fat (which 

 is not understood to be particularly favourable to 

 sagacity), the volume of the brain is to that of the 

 whole body in the ratio of about 1 to 212. But if 

 we make the same practical comparison in the ele- 

 phant, we find the brain to the body in the ratio 

 of only about 1 to 500, thus forming a very small 



