106 REFLECTIONS. 



them many times during the hunt, but they seemed to have been deserted 

 by the intelligence and sagacity with which they are popularly accredited in 

 as great a degree as the men were by common-sense, and to have no ideas 

 beyond using their legs. 



It was now evening, I was drenched with perspiration, bruised, scratched, 

 and hardly able to speak for hoarseness. I threw myself down on an 

 elephant-pad under a tree, lighted a cheroot, and applied myself to a review 

 of the day's proceedings, as it was worse than useless to continue the hunt. 

 This, then, was the result of my plans and pains. Things could not have 

 looked more promising at the commencement of the action, yet in four hours 

 the elephants had been terrified beyond hope of their returning to our side 

 of the river for months, and my men demoralised by our failure. How- 

 ever, in the midst of discouragement there was something to be thankful 

 for. No one had been killed, as might well have happened, and the attempt 

 had clearly demonstrated the impossibility of succeeding with such untrained, 

 though willing material. This was something gained ; and as I conceived 

 that greater eventual success might be evolved from our present failure, I 

 did not feel greatly discouraged on a consideration of all the circumstances. 

 I had had too many reverses in my sporting experience to be surprised at 

 this one. The Morlajdtes had shown great pluck, and I believed if they were 

 disciplined they would act more judiciously on another occasion. They also 

 had seen how frightened the elephants were at them, and their confidence 

 would rise in proportion. I had made the mistake of having too many men 

 engaged. Elephants must, as the butcher says of beef-steaks in Martin 

 Chuzzlewit, when Tom Pinch is trying to cram his purchases into his 

 pocket, " be humoured, not drove." The collapse of my immediate hopes 

 was certainly rather depressing, but reflecting that I probably felt it more 

 at that moment than I should in a few hours, I mounted my elephant and 

 rode home, followed by my chop-fallen heroes. 



I had a long and earnest consultation with my right-hand men over the 

 day's events round the camp-fire, when dinner and the soothing pipe com- 

 bined to enable us to review them with some calmness ; and long after I 

 turned in I heard the trackers considering what we should do on the next 

 occasion. Some of the Morlayites were again quite confident, and were 

 agreed that if such and such things had happened that did not, and others 

 had not that did, they would have been keeping a joyful watch over im- 

 pounded elephants at that moment, instead of looking wistfully towards the 

 dark and distant hills in which they had doubtless already found safe 

 shelter. " Yes," said Marah, a cautious old hunter, " and if your aunts had 

 had mustachios they would have been your uncles ! " 



I 



