108 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Sept. 1, 1887. 



proach the men they are driven back by shots, shouts and fire 

 brands. The elephants usually give trouble on the first and 

 second nights only; after that, if the surround has been well 

 chosen, and there be in it plenty of fodder and water, they rarely 

 make any decided attempts to break out. Moreover, they are 

 generally active only between sunset and 11 at night, and again 

 from 2 A. M. until daylight, so that during the daytime the hunters 

 are able by turn to take some rest. 



Within the surround, and on one of the elephants' chief runs, a 

 stockade composed of stout timbers is now commenced. This in- 

 closure is circular in form, and is rarely more than 25yds. in 

 diameter, that area being found sufficient to admit 60 or 80 ele- 

 phants. It consists of a ring of posts sunk deep into the ground 

 and well supported by transverse timbers, and backed up by 

 forked props securely lashed with ropes, canvas, or tough creep- 

 era. This palisade is 10ft. liigh. Over the entrance, which is 12ft. 

 wide, is hung a massive log gate, which is dropped and secured 

 directly the herd has been driven in. On each side of the gate- 

 way for about 100yds. a timber barricade is carried, forming a 

 funnel-shaped approach. Across the mouth of this|T-shaped pas- 

 sage (generally a width of 60 or 70yds. or so) is arranged a line of 

 dry grass and combustible jungle material. When the herd has 

 crossed this line, and thus got well between the guiding barricades, 

 it is fired behind them. Simul taneously with the sudden blaze so 

 produced, the hunters, who have patiently and skilfully worked 

 the elephants along to this critical point, close in and rush 

 shouting after the started herd. Mr. Sanderson, who up to this 

 stage of the proceedings has probably been perched high in some 

 commanding tree, to direct the movements of the hunters, who 

 from their inability to see each other are best directed from some 

 central point, now rapidly descends and takes his place with the 

 hurrying line of hunters. His presence and formidable heavy 

 rifles impart confidence to the men, who, giving the alarmed ele- 

 phants no time for reflection, rush them along the narrowing ap- 

 proach to the gate. This is the point where the greatest danger 

 occurs, as, if the elephants' fears are aroused by anything ahead, 

 they often turn in a body and break back, when fatal accidents 

 are likely to happen. I saw a charge of this kind which was, 

 however, checked by Mr. Sanderson's droppiug the leading ele- 

 phant—an old female— dead, and the men showed such pluck and 

 determination when the elephants were thus thrown into confu- 

 sion that they turned, and were soon in the stockade. Generally, 

 in a few minutes after the lighting of the fire line, the huge beasts 

 have crushed through the jungle into the stockade, when down 

 comes the ponderous gate, and the bewildered monsters are im- 

 pounded. 



But this outline conveys no adequate idea of the skill exhibited 

 in selecting the ground, of the organization and discipline requis- 

 ite to insure a sustained performance of tedious and dangerous 

 duty by hundreds of men, any one of whom might, by disobed- 

 ience, carelessness or cowardice, imperil the success of the whole 

 undertaking, like the snapping of a^single link in a chain ; or of 

 the intrepid'ity displayed m the many dangerous situations often 

 occurring in the undertaking. During the erection of the stock- 

 ade within the surround, a laborious piece of work that occupies 

 about three days, no one would suspect that several hundred men 

 were at work. No voice is heard above a whisper. Few orders 

 are necessary, every gang of men being divided and sub-divided, 

 and all so drilled that each knows his work and does it. Occas- 

 ionally a soft whistle and a rapid gesture are used to convey in- 

 structions to a distant workman. Everything is done rapidly and 

 silently. Then the pluck of the men in driving the elephants is 

 very conspicuous. They have the confidence in the determination 

 and skill of their leader which insures success, and it is a fine 

 sight to see them following Mr. Sanderson, or skirmishing with 

 the elephants while under the protection of his heavy rifles in a 

 manner that seems perfectly reckless. 



On the day after a herd has been impounded there follows the 

 less exciting but even more deeply interesting business of secur- 

 ing each individual elephant. The gate of the stockade is raised 

 under cover of guns.and men mounted on tame elephants ride 

 into the inclosure. The wild ones generally huddle together, and 

 watch this fresh maneuver with apprehension, or some of them 

 charge down among the tame ones. When the gate has been 

 closed and made fast, the work of securing the wild ones begins. 

 The position of the tame elephants' mahouts looks very danger- 

 ous ; but although the wild elephants occasionally battle with the 

 tame, they never attack the riders. The work is, however, suffi- 

 ciently perilous. I saw a tame elephant receive, unexpectedly, a 

 charge from a powerful wild one that made her stagger, and, the 

 ground being slippery, she fell on her side. The mahout must 

 have had a perplexing view of gigantic legs all around him. but 

 being cool and experienced he quickly got under one of the tame 

 elephants of the party, and thence was helped out of danger by 

 ready hands. 



The tame ones are all experienced fighters, and when some cap- 

 tives show a disposition to be mischievous, one or more are set on 

 to give it a pounding, and inculcate respect. When three or four 

 tame elephants have wedged a wild one in among them, an active 

 fellow slips down and ties its hindlegs together, afterward mak- 

 ing them fast to the stockade, or to trees growing in the inclosure, 

 or to strong posts previously planted for the purpose. A large, 

 soft cable is then got round its neck. When all have been tied in 

 the manner described, the gate is reopened aud they are led to 

 water and picketed in the forest near. When separated thus and 

 first left to themselves and the tame elephants, their struggles are 

 violent and protracted, and I saw many tall trees shaken to their 

 topmast branches under the strain put on them. Every branch 

 within reach is wrenched off; the bark is often stripped from the 

 trunks, while the tuskers drive their long white ivories into the 

 ground and plough every square foot within reach. The calves 

 usually keep up an incessant roaring, as their mothers often tem- 

 porarily lose their supply of milk from their agitation and strug- 

 gles against coercion. In a surprisingly short time, however, all 

 get accustomed to the presence of their at tendants, and in the 

 course of a few days they are marched down to the low country in 

 tow of their tame friends. They are then put into systematic 

 training. Within two months t hey can generally be ridden alone. 

 Several of the elephants employed in carrying baggage, and one of 

 Mr. Sanderson's special riding elephants, this season, were pointed 

 out to me as having been captured last year. They were now 

 working in the very forests where they were themselves wild ten 

 months before. 



Occasionally an escaped elephant is recaptured after it has en- 

 joyed a prolonged holiday of a few years in the forest. Among 

 the last herd that I saw caught was such a one, a female, followed 

 by a big calf about five years old. She bore on her neck and legs 

 the usual rope marks, and exhihited other signs of haying been in 

 service some time or other. Judging from the age of her calf she 

 must have been at liberty not less than seven or eight years, but 

 when pressed on the neck with a spear and ordered to kneel down 

 she obeyed at once. This speaks much more for the docility of the 

 elephant than for its intelligence, which latter quality Mr. Sander- 

 son considers it markedly wanting in, popular impressions not- 

 withstanding. She was promptly mounted by a bold mahout, and 

 two or three days afterward I saw her picking up ropes with her 

 trunk, passing them to her mahout, helping to tie and tow away 

 Bome of tier fellow-captives, and behaving as though she had been 

 on continuous duty in the kheddahs all her life. Her calf was, of 

 course, an uneducated young savage. 



Directly a "catch" has been concluded the trackers go off to find 

 and mark down another herd. When "kubber" arrives that 

 another herd has been found, perhaps ten or fifteen miles away, 

 off go Mr. Sanderson and his men to the new ground, while a 

 sergeant or a native jemadar remains in charge of the last capt ures 

 and marches them down to the open country. Again follow the 

 surrounding and guarding of more elephants, and selecting the 

 site of the stockade and building it; the wary working up of the 

 unsuspecting animals, which develops into the maddening final 

 rush with a blazing fire-line and sudden uproar ending in another 

 catch. It is very worthy of remark that the operations rarely fail 

 to end successfully. The certainty with which this may be counted 

 on iB clearly indicative of excellence in all the arrangements to 

 the smallest details. There appears to be no such thing as build- 

 ing a stockade and failing to get elephants into it. Unquestionably 

 it is hard work, the very hardest work, both for tame elephants 

 and men, yet the former are in excellent hard condition, and 

 among the latter the proportions of sickness and accident has 

 been greatly reduced of late years. The elephants are, of course, 

 fed solely on green fodder, as Mr. Sanderson is a well known 

 advocate for the abolition of grain, and they are a living proof of 

 the accuracy of his view T s on the subject. 



In elephant hunting the risk to life, and of course to limb and 

 health, is generally very considerable. While I was with (lie 

 camp two men were killed, one at his post on the surround at 

 night, and the other during driving; and Sergeant Watson, a 

 steady, soldier-like young fellow, succumbed in a few hours to 

 jungle fever. This was also the fate of Mr. Nuthall and Captain 

 Hood, Mr. Sanderson's immediate predecessors, and I should 

 think a life insurance company would hesitate about accepting 

 Mr. Sanderson's life on the ordinary, or on any terms, especially 

 if aware of the headlong manner of his coming down 40ft. of 

 ricketty bamboo ladder from a machan, and tearing along close 

 behind the herd that, having crossed the fatal fire line, has to be 

 "rushed" into the stockade! 



Regarding the belief that wild elephants are decreasing in In- 

 dia, and many other matters concerning these interesting pachy- 



derms, Mr. Sanderson gave me much interesting information in 

 our chats by the camp-fire. The impression adverted to above 

 probably originated in the fact of laws having been made in recent 

 years for their protection, and from their disappearance from cer- 

 tain small and isolated localities before the advance of cultiva- 

 tion. But Mr. Sanderson says there is good ground for believing 

 that wild elephants are now at least as numerous as they have 

 ever been within historic times, and that there is every reason 

 why this should be the case. They are not now liable to be shot 

 for their ivory or for sport, nor to be caught by the cruel and 

 wasteful methods of taking them in salt hcks and pitfalls, from 

 which not more than 20 per cent, were taken alive, while their 

 haunts are preserved to a great extent from jungle fires and from 

 intrusion by the regulations of the Forest Department. Some 

 idea of the numbers of wild elephants in certain tracts may he 

 gained from the fact that, during the eight years ending March, 

 1885, the Kheddah Department, captured 1,888 M ild elephants in a 

 portion of the Garo Hills, some 50 miles by 20, and this area is only 

 a small percentage of the large tracts of elephant country equally 

 well stocked. Under present regulations there is no danger of the 

 Asiatic wild elephant becoming even scarce, much less extinct. 



I was also surprised to learn that the demand for elephants is so 

 considerable. Though good roads and railways have greatly faci- 

 litated communication in India, and though Government has 

 largely reduced the number of elephants it formerly maintained 

 for military and civil purposes, the animal is still as great a favor- 

 ite as ever among natives, and instead of it being, as formerly, 

 almost exclusively a possession of royalty, it is now found exten- 

 sively among small landed proprietors in Bengal and elsewhere; 

 men who, before the peaceful times of British rule, would not have 

 ventured on such a show of wealth even had they possessed it. 



When I left Mr. Sanderson he had captured the large number 

 of 220* elephants, and he contemplated further operations against 

 them, as the season had not far advanced. 



* Since raised to the extraordinary total of 402. 



m and $tier fishing. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Pub. Co. 



"A BASTER." 



IT ALL happened in the Old Granite State. My brother- 

 in-law and myself started to explore a trout brook 

 that we had never fished before, but which we had heard 

 many a fish story about. It was ten miles from home, 

 and its sourse was among the Blue Hills of Strafford 

 county. 



On our way we called on an old-time fisherman who, 

 in years before, had taken many a fine string of beauties 

 from the stream, and from him obtained information 

 about the location of the brook. "I'll tell you how to 

 find it, boys," the old man said, "but keep it kind of quiet 

 and don't tell everybody, because it will be of no use to 

 give it away." We promised and were told to follow the 

 main road about a mile, then turn to the right and follow 

 on across the ridge, then to take a log road through the 

 woods as far as we could go with our team, after which 

 we must follow a blind trail through the woods to the 

 brook. "You'll strike the brook where there are lots of 

 big boulders, but it will do no good to fish there, for no- 

 body ever caught a trout there; but f oiler the brook up 

 stream about half a mile till you come to an old dam, and 

 above the dam is a meadow; probably you won't git a 

 bite in the medder, but if you do it will be a baster." 

 With visions of "basters" we left the old man, followed 

 by the parting injunction not to waste time in the 

 meadow but to fish the brook thoroughly through the 

 woods above. 



We found the brook at the point where the big boulders 

 were, and following it up to the old dam, used all our 

 skill in trying to beguile one of those "basters" from the 

 brook in the meadow ; every bend and pool wera cau- 

 tiously approached, but not a fin did we see. We had 

 reached the shadow of the woods, Avhen I came to a bend 

 in the brook, over which hung a thick chmip of bushes, 

 shading the water and making just such a lurking place 

 as a trout loves. I made several ineffectual attempts to 

 drop my hook into the water, but each time it caught on 

 the bush, until, disgusted at my poor success, I moved on 

 up stream. Chancing to look back I could see the deep, 

 shaded pool under the bush, and thought what a place for 

 a "baster." Walking quietly back, reeling in the line on 

 the way until but a few inches remained hanging from 

 the tip of the rod, I carefully insinuated the tip between 

 and under the bushes, and dropped the baited hook lightly 

 in the water. In an instant bait, line and tip of rod were 

 gulled under the hollow bank. No chance to play the. 

 fish there, and an attempt to lift it out only convinced 

 me that instead of catching a trout I had probably lost 

 my hook, as from indications I supposed it was fast to a 

 snag under water. But a quick, heavy tug, and a trem- 

 bling sensation along the rod that sent a thrill through 

 me as from an electric battery, told me more plainly than 

 words that there was life at the other end of the tackle, 

 and that the trout; — if trout it were — must be ignomin- 

 iously yanked out by main strength, and, as one hauls a 

 codfish hand over hand, I pulled from under that bush 

 and bank a two-pound trout, almost long enough to reach 

 across the little meadow brook. 



That was the one I caught ; the one I lost was near the 

 same spot later in the day. 



On our return, after fishing with varying success to the 

 source of the brook, we reached the meadow again just 

 as the sun was disappearing behind the mountains. Trials 

 and tribulations had attended us through the woods ; 

 hooks caught on snags below, and on branches of the 

 trees overhead; leaders were broken, and hooks innumer- 

 able were lost, and when I reached the scene of my first 

 catch, I had not a single hook on gut sncll left; but being 

 anxious to try for a mate to my "baster," I hastily gauged 

 a small hook found in my pocket to my leaderless line, 

 and tried to induce another trout to come out of the 

 shadowy depths of the hole under the bush. But I had 

 no success. Then I slowly fished down stream a few 

 rods; when near another turn in the brook, a swirl and a 

 tug greeted me, and after a few moments' play, having 

 no landing net, I lifted from the water a trout that 

 seemed a giant beside the two-pounder already in my 

 creel. The improvised tackle gave way as soon as the 

 trout was lifted from the water, the hook slipped through 

 the gauging, and the fish dropped to the ground a foot 

 from the water's edge. With one jump I landed in the 

 brook, and tried to catch the trout in my hands before he 

 could reach the water. It was of no use. One stroke of 

 his tail fin, a jump, a splash, and down stream darted the 

 lost fish. 



So good an authority as the lamented Izaak Walton has 

 said that "one can never lose that which he never pos- 

 sessed," so I suppose I didn't lose that trout, simply be- 



cause he never was in my possession; but I felt then as if 

 I had sustained a loss; and the recollection of the beauty 

 of his glistening sides, as for one short moment he hung 

 there before my eyes, and for one instant lay stretched 

 when he fell on the bank of that little brook, remains 

 vividly in my mind. 



That ended my fishing for the day, it was growing dusk 

 in the shadow of the Blue Hills, and I had no inclination 

 to fish longer. I never had an opportunity to fish in that 

 brook again. Perhaps some more skillful fisherman has 

 long since been successful in beguiling that trout, or a 

 mink or an otter may have enjoyed a feast. But some 

 day I hope again to follow that little mountain stream 

 down to the meadow, and through the meadow to the 

 old dam, and whether I catch a "baster" or a fingerling, 

 matters not, though I'll try and coax a "baster" from 

 some bush-shaded hole under the bank. 



On our way home we called upon our friend and in- 

 formant, who greeted us with "Well, boys, what luck?" 

 We showed our catch and I related the story of my mis- 

 hap. There was a sympathetic look on the old man's 

 face, and I fancied visions of similar mishaps rose before 

 him — from his own experience. We bade him good-night, 

 and as we drove away neard him repeat his prediction of 

 the morning, "I thought if you got a bite in the medder 

 'twould be a 'baster'." - NoiNOE. 



Minneapolis, Minn. 



BASS FISHING EXTRAORDINARY, 



BY A VERACIOUS AMATEUR. 



IT will be observed that the adjective qualifying the 

 noun amateur is made use of in this instance in a 

 very peculiar relation, and while it might perhaps be re- 

 garded as superfluous, I have chosen to employ it because 

 I have known amateurs who lied. Candor and a due re- 

 gard for truth compels me to go even further and say, 

 that as a general thing an amateur fisherman, when on 

 the subject of his own exploits, is a merciless and undevi- 

 ating liar. I say this advisedly and after ample consider- 

 ation of the probable consequences. 



Truth in the abstract is opposod to error, and although 

 of an amateurish disposition myself and with a decided 

 inclination to angle for the festive grayling and agile 

 black bass, I can affirm without danger of being success- 

 fully controverted that I never told a fishing he but 

 once in my long and eventful, not to say brilliant, career, 

 and on that occasion I was appropriately and justly per- 

 haps rebuked by a stranger present, who immediately, 

 without any apparent effort, told a lie so elephantine in 

 its proportions that I have never since attempted any- 

 thing in that line. I have often wished, when listening 

 to fishermen's hyperbole (that lets 'em down easy, doesnt 

 it?) that Eli Perkins would drop in. I don't kcow whether 

 Eh is specially gifted in the matter of piscatorial prevari- 

 cation, but he is a good general equivocator, and I feel that 

 if he would only half try he could easily distance any com- 

 petitor. Perhaps my unfortunate experience has made me 

 misanthropical and that in consequence I am allowing 

 my innate love of justice to become warped thereby. Be 

 this as it may, I don't feel like sending any money to help 

 convert the heathen in Central Africa or Canada, yvhile 

 there is so much missionary work to be done right here 

 in Michigan among this class of depraved persons. Feel- 

 ing the necessity for an example of what a fishing narra- 

 tive should be I have decided to prepare one on an entirely 

 new model. No patent, caveat, trademark or copyright 

 need prevent any one from using it. No rights of any 

 kind are reserved, except that I don't want it used with- 

 out due credit to this paper. 



It Avas a charming June day, in the summer of 1876 ; 

 to be more exact, it was Friday and the wind was in the 

 south — Friday is not regarded as a lucky day to go fish- 

 ing, but I was reassured by the old couplet : 



"When the wind is in the south 



The hook is blown in the fish's mouth," 



and this, it occurred to me, would save lots of trouble. 

 So I procured the most approved bait, a seaworthy boat, 

 the services of a boatman, and resorted to the expedient 

 (to guard against accidents) of taking along my trusty 

 hammerless breechloader. This is not a fishing rod, nor 

 a case of medicine, nor a bottle " with something in it," 

 but a shotgun, and as I said, was to guard against acci- 

 dents. That sounds paradoxical at first, but when you 

 get a little further on, and see the size of the fish, and 

 the danger attended taking them, you will admire the 

 sagacity which prompted me to take it along. 



The boat was lift, long, drawing 8|in. of water ; my 

 fish-rod was 12ft. long, in three sections, and the reel 

 was supplied with 350ft. of silk line. The oars were of 

 ash, made in the usual form, and the color of the boat 

 was Indian red, with a dark green stripe running from 

 bow to stern. The bait for fishing was contained in a 

 large tin box with a Mnged cover, so arranged that the 

 movable lid could be quickly closed to prevent the escape 

 of any of the worms should they be so disposed. A pail 

 of shiners (a species of minnows) a box of 19 ham sand- 

 wiches, 23 pickles, and a bottle of cold coffee completed 

 the commissary department. There was about a quart 

 of the cold coffee. I want to be exact about these things 

 so that there may be no caviling over alleged loose state- 

 ments. It conveyB a comfortable feeling of confidence 

 to the reader. We reached a point on Lake Erie, three- 

 quarters of a marine mile from the shore. I know just 

 exactly how far it was, for the Frenchman said " tree- 

 quarter mile too soon for feesh, better go leetle furder." 

 We proceeded along over the blue waters of the lake, 

 now and then a gull or two swooping past us, and almost 

 within reach ; a little distance beyond quite a flock of 

 these birds were circling around a space of an acre 

 or more, then dropping suddenly and swiftly into the 

 lake. 



"What are those lunatics acting in that fashion for?" 1 

 asked of my boatman. 



"Dey dive for feesh; plenty feesh where de seagull 

 drap. S'pose you see gull some place, find plenty feesh 

 dat way; plenty, sackry-mogee!" 



"Do you mean to tell me that if we should row over 

 there where those absurd-acting birds are thrashing 

 around that we would, to the best of your knowledge and 

 belief, succeed in getting them to believe that our inten- 

 tions were honorable and inducing them to consent to a 

 closer atquaintance?" 



"Was dat you mean? No 'dstan'. Of you mean by dat 

 eef we ketch feesh — sure, sure, my fren, sure." 



