along the ground, suddenly coils it round
a suitable stem, and brings the fugitive to a stand still. On finding
himself thus arrested, the natural impulse of the captive is to turn on
the man who is engaged in making fast the rope, a movement which it is
the duty of his colleague to present by running up close to the
elephant's head and provoking the animal to confront him by irritating
gesticulations and taunting shouts of _dah! dah!_ a monosyllable, the
sound of which the elephant peculiarly dislikes. Meanwhile the first
assailant, having secured one noose, comes up from behind with another,
with which, amidst the vain rage and struggles of the victim, he entraps
a fore leg, the rope being, as before, secured to another tree in front,
and the whole four feet having been thus entangled, the capture is
completed.
A shelter is then run up with branches, to protect their prisoner from
the sun, and the hunters proceed to build a wigwam for themselves in
front of him, kindling their fires for cooking, and making all the
necessary arrangements for remaining day and night on the spot to await
the process of subduing and taming his rage. In my journeys through the
forest I have come unexpectedly on the halting place of adventurous
hunters when thus engaged; and on one occasion, about sunrise, in
ascending the steep ridge from the bed of the Malwatte river, the
foremost rider of our party was suddenly driven back by a furious
elephant, which we found picketed by two Panickeas on the crest of the
bank. In such a position, the elephant soon ceases to struggle; and what
with the exhaustion of rage and resistance, the terror of fire which he
dreads, and the constant annoyance of smoke which he detests, in a very
short time, a few weeks at the most, his spirit becomes subdued; and
being plentifully supplied with plantains and fresh food, and indulged
with water, in which he luxuriates, he grows so far reconciled to his
keepers that they at length venture to remove him to their own village,
or to the sea-side for shipment to India.
No part of the hunter's performances exhibits greater skill and audacity
than this first forced march of the recently captured elephant from the
great central forests to the sea-coast. As he is still too morose to
submit to be ridden, and as it would be equally impossible to lead or to
drive him by force, the ingenuity of the captors is displayed in
alternately irritating and eluding him, but always so
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