CHAPTER XXII. 
THE AFRICAN ELEPHANT. 
“On comes the elephant, to slake 
His thirst, at noon, in yon pellucid springs. 
Lo! from his trunk up-turned, aloft he flings 
The grateful shower: and now, 
Plucking the broad-leaved bough 
Of yonder plume, with waying motion slow 
Fanning the languid air, 
He waves it to and fro.” 
THROUGHOUT the more remote and unfrequented portions of the African continent which have yet been explored, the 
Elephant, mightiest and most peaceful of all the denizens of the woods, has been found in far greater abundance than in any 
other quarter of the globe. Many of the southern regions are still teeming with vast herds; and the unwholesome, though 
fertile borders of the almost inaccessible rivers on the eastern and western coast, have ever formed its chosen habitat. Since 
the first establishment of the Portuguese settlements about the close of the fifteenth century, man has waged against this 
lordly animal, a ruthless and exterminating war. Hunted and persecuted for the sake of its costly ivory, it has been driven 
further and further from the haunts of civilization, and is only now to be found in multitudes, amid regions to which its 
areh enemy seldom penetrates. Delighting especially in wide and secluded savannahs, where sluggish streams are skirted by a 
congenial vegetation, this giant among quadrupeds resides towards the southern tropic in stately troops, comprising many 
hundred individuals. There, fearless of danger, he wanders with calm solemnity amid the groves of aged mimosas, with which 
the broad meadows are sprinkled —leisurely prizing out of the ground, by means of his huge tusks, used upon the principle 
of the crow-bar, those which please him best, and inverting them with his single hand, the more readily to browse upon the 
soft and juicy roots that constitute his favourite food. Social in habits, and secure in his own strength from every four-footed 
foe, the wisest of brutes luxuriates in the waters of the lone stream that he has troubled, and, unless when man invades his 
repose, passes a lengthened life of tranquil enjoyment. 
“Calm amid scenes of havoc, in his own 
Huge strength impregnable, the Elephant 
Offendeth none, but leads a quitt life, 
Amongst his own contemporary trees, 
Till nature lays him. gently down to rest 
Beneath the palm which he was wont to make 
His prop in slumber.* There his relics lie, 
Longer than life itself had dwelt within them. 
Bees in the ample hollow of his skull 
Fill their wax citadels, and store their honey, 
~Thence sally forth to forage through the fields, 
And swarni in emigrating legions thence. 
The Jittle burrowing animals throw up. 
Hillocks beneath the over-arching ribs; 
While birds within the spinal labyrinth 
Contrive their nests.” 
With the image of the Elephant we are apt to associate the idea of the gorgeous and stupendous vegetation of an 
Indian forest —to imagine trees of a growth and foliage proportioned to the bulk of the gigantic tenants which they screen. 
Such at least was my own impression, and I was therefore not a little amazed to find countless herds inhabiting the most 
open tracts, embellished with occasional straggling woods, so stunted in growth, that a host of colossal backs were not unfre- 
quently to be seen aboye the tops of them, The face of the verdant hills, that in time of danger form the strong-hold of 
the species, usually terminate in an abrupt scarp, resembling a coronet, whence a number of ravines arising, are encumbered 
with rocks and precipices o’ershadowed by heavy forests —the intervening rounded space being quite destitute of trees. 
Through the denser covert, in parts impervious to man, the monstrous inmates have cleared many a path that would do credit 
to the pioneers of an army, and even by them would not have been accomplished without infinite labour, Marching 
* Amongst many other early absurdities, it was currently believed of the Elephant, that he invariably slept in a standing posture, leaning against a tree 
for support. Sir T. Brown, in allusion to this popular notion, remarks, that ‘it sleepeth against a tree; which the hunters observing, do saw it almost asunder; 
Whereon the beast relying, by the fall of the tree falls also down itself, and is able to rise no more.” 
