72 THE WILDERNESS AND JUNGLE 



it again and again with terrific force and doing 

 considerable damage. Each time the driver 

 made an attempt to continue the journey, the 

 enraged elephant charged with new fury, and 

 the man hesitated to go full speed ahead for 

 fear of derailing his train. At length, though 

 not until after his head had been severely bat- 

 tered, the elephant tried other tactics and 

 charged backwards. As a passenger train was 

 due to follow, the driver felt that no more time 

 must be lost, so he let his engine go. One of 

 the wheels went over the elephant's leg, putting 

 him out of action, and he was subsequently 

 shot dead by the guard of the train that 

 followed. 



Such is the Indian elephant. For all its 

 occasional roguery, its fits of must, and of 

 rage as blind and stupid as that just narrated, 

 I always like to think of it as by far the most 

 impressive of living animals, the type of a 

 massive dignity that should command the re- 

 spect of little folk like ourselves, even though 

 we have tamed it and invented rifles with 

 which to destroy it. This is why, quite apart 

 from the possible, not to say probable, cruelty 

 involved in the training, I dislike seeing circus 

 elephants made to stand on their hind legs and 

 beat drums. Such foolish tricks should be 

 taught to animals of less dignity, and I would 

 almost as soon have contemplated the late 



