390 
ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 
and crowd so eagerly in front of him that the sportsmen have 
to shoot a number which they might otherwise have spared. In 
one instance a tusker, which was badly wounded by Major 
Rogers, was promptly surrounded by his companions, who sup- 
ported him between their shoulders, and actually succeeded in 
covering his retreat to the forest. 
Lastly, allusion may be made to the celebrated obser- 
vation of M. le Baron de Lauriston, who was at Laknaor 
during an epidemic which stretched a number of natives 
sick and dying upon the road. The Nabob riding his 
elephant over the road was careless whether or not the 
animal crushed the men and women to death, but not so 
the elephant, which took great pains to pick his steps 
among the people so as not to injure them. 
The following account of emotion and sagacity is quoted 
from the Rev. Julius Young’s Memoirs of his father, Mr. 
Charles Young, the actor. The animal mentioned is the 
one that subsequently attained such widespread notoriety 
at Exeter Change, not only on account of his immense 
size, but still more because of his cruel death : — 
In July 1810, the largest elephant ever seen in England 
was advertised as ‘ just arrived.’ As soon as Henry Harris, the 
manager of Covent Garden Theatre, heard of it, he determined, 
if possible, to obtain it; for it struck him that if it were to be 
introduced into the new pantomime of ‘ Harlequin Padmenaba,’ 
which he was about to produce at great cost, it would add 
greatly to its attraction. Under this impression, and before the 
proprietor of Exeter Change had seen it, he purchased it for the 
sum of 900 guineas. Mrs. Henry Johnston was to ride it, and 
Miss Parker, the columbine, was to play up to it. Young hap- 
pened to be one morning at the box-office adjoining Covent 
Garden Thea,tre, when his ears were assailed by a strange and 
unusual uproar within the walls. On asking one of the car- 
penters the cause of it, he was told ‘it was something going 
wrong with the elephant; he could not exactly tell what.’ I 
am not aware what the usage may be nowadays, but then, 
whenever a new piece had been announced for presentation on 
a given night, and there was but scant time for its preparation, 
a rehearsal would take place after the night’s regular performance 
was over, and the audience had been dismissed. One such there 
had been the night before my father’s curiosity had been roused. 
As it had been arranged that Mrs. Henry Johnston, seated in 
