in THE ELEPHANT 51 



elephant is the difficulty in getting the mahout to obey an order 

 immediately, and at the same time to convey that order to the 

 animal without the slightest hesitation. Natives frequently hesi- 

 tate before they determine the right from left. This is exasper- 

 ating to the highest degree, and is destructive to the discipline of 

 an elephant. There must be no uncertainty ; if there is the 

 slightest vacillation, it will be felt instinctively in the muscles of 

 the rider, and the animal, instead of obeying mechanically the 

 requisite pressure of knee or foot, feels that the mahout does not 

 exactly know what he is about. This will cause the elephant to 

 swing his head, instead of keeping steady and obeying the order 

 without delay. In the same manner, when tiger-shooting, the 

 elephant will at once detect anything like tremor on the part of 

 his mahout. Frequently a good elephant may be disgraced by the 

 nervousness of his guide, nothing being so contagious as fear. 



Although I may be an exception in the non-admiration of the 

 elephant's sagacity to the degree in which it is usually accepted, 

 there is no one who more admires or is so foolishly fond of 

 elephants. I have killed some hundreds in my early life, but I 

 have learnt to regret the past, and nothing would now induce me 

 to shoot an elephant unless it were either a notorious malefactor, 

 or in self-defence. There is, however, a peculiar contradiction in 

 the character of elephants that tends to increase the interest in 

 the animal. If they were all the same, there would be a mono- 

 tony ; but this is never the case, either among animals or human 

 beings, although they may belong to one family. The elephant, 

 on the other hand, stands so entirely apart from all other animals, 

 and its performances appear so extraordinary owing to the enor- 

 mous effect which its great strength produces instantaneously, that 

 its peculiarities interest mankind more than any smaller animal. 

 Yet, when we consider the actual aptitude for learning, or the 

 natural habits of the creature, we are obliged to confess that in 

 proportion to its size the elephant is a mere fool in comparison 

 with the intelligence of many insects. If the elephant could form 

 a home like the bee, and store up fodder for a barren season ; if it 

 could build a nest of comfort like a bird, to shelter itself from 

 inclement weather ; if it could dam up a river like the beaver, to 

 store water for the annual drought ; if it could only, like the 

 ordinary squirrel or field mouse, make a store for a season of 

 scarcity, how marvellous we should think this creature, simply 

 because it is so huge ! It actually does nothing remarkable, unless 

 specially instructed ; but it is this inertia that renders it so 

 valuable to man. If the elephant were to be continually exerting 



