156 ELEPHANT LIFE IN ENGLAND 
would not even take the bath which most elephants 
look upon as one of their greatest treats in hot 
weather. He roared, and kicked, and made such a 
determined resistance that it was necessary to rig- 
up a block and tackle, and haul him into the water. 
When there he sulked, and seemed prepared to 
undergo the fate of drowning rather than the humilia- 
tion of obedience. The recollection that you may 
bring a horse to the water but cannot make him 
drink, hardly expresses the feelings of his keepers 
when they realized that the tackle which is sufficient 
to haul an elephant into the water may be unsuited 
for hauling him out. Ultimately the Chinaman’s 
recipe for driving a pig — “ If you no can pushee, 
no pullee, then try plenty stick,” was adopted with 
success. The African elephant’s “uncertainty” has 
one redeeming feature. It may shy or jib on one 
day, and get the better of its keeper for an hour or 
more, but he does not necessarily therefore lose 
prestige in the eyes of the animal, and can assert 
his authority next day unimpaired. An Indian ele- 
phant, if once the master in a deliberate act of 
disobedience, loses from that moment all respect for 
the man whom it has worsted. Inferiority in “parlour 
tricks,” and in comparative docility, does not excuse 
the strange neglect which the native species receives 
as a beast of burden suited for the work of African 
pioneering. Dr. Sclater, writing from the offices of 
the Zoological Society in Hanover Square, says that 
there have been African elephants in the Gardens of 
