When tame elephants cross a river they are conducted by their drivers, who stand upon their backs, either balancing themselves without assistance, or supported by holding a cord attached to the animal's neck. It is very interesting to watch the passage of a large river by a herd of these creatures, who to a stranger's eye would appear to be in danger of drowning, although in reality they are merely gamboling in the element which is their delight. I have seen them cross the Brahmaputra when the channel was about a mile in width. Forty elephants scrambled down the precipitous bank of alluvial deposit and river sand: this, although about thirty-five feet high, crumbled at once beneath the fore-foot of the leading elephant, and many tons detached from the surface quickly formed a steep incline. Squatting upon its hind-quarters, and tucking its hinder knees beneath its belly, while it supported its head upon its trunk and outstretched fore legs, it slid and scrambled to the bottom, accompanied by an avalanche of earth and dust, thus forming a good track for the following herd.
It is surprising to see in how few minutes a large herd of elephants descending a steep place will form a road. I have frequently seen them break down an alluvial cliff in the manner described, where at first sight I should have thought it impossible for an elephant to descend. Once within the river the fun began in earnest. After a march in the hot sun, it was delightful to bathe in the deep stream of the Brahmaputra, and the mighty forms splashed and disported themselves, sometimes totally submerged, with the drivers standing ankle-deep upon their hidden backs, which gave them the appearance of walking upon the surface. A tip of the trunk was always above water, and occasionally the animal would protrude the entire head, but only to plunge once more beneath the stream. In this way, swimming at great speed, and at the same time playing along their voyage, the herd crossed the broad river, and we saw their dusky forms glittering in the sunlight as they rose wetted from their bath, and waded majestically along the shallows to reach an island; from which they again started upon a similar journey to cross another channel of the river.
The first impression of a stranger when observing the conduct of a mahout or driver is sympathy for the animal, which is governed through the severe authority of the iron spike. This instrument is about twenty inches long, and resembles somewhat an old-fashioned boat-hook, being a sharp spike at the extremity beyond the keen-pointed hook; it can thus be used either to drive the elephant forward by digging the point into its head, or to pull it back by hooking on to the tender base of the ears. These driving-hooks weigh from about 4 to 6 lbs., and are formidable weapons; some are exceedingly ancient, and have been preserved for a couple of centuries or more, such specimens being highly artistic, and first-rate examples of the blacksmith's work. Although we may commence our experience by pitying the animal that is subjected to such harsh treatment, we quickly discover that without the hook the elephant is like the donkey without the stick. The fact of his knowing that you possess the power, or propeller, is sufficient to ensure comparative obedience, but it would be impossible to direct the movements of an elephant by simple kindness without the power to inflict punishment. This fact alone will prove that the elephant does not serve man through affection, but that it is compelled through fear. It is curious to witness the absurd subjection of this mighty animal even by a child. I have frequently seen a small boy threaten a large elephant with a stick, and the animal has at once winced; and, curling the trunk between the legs, it has closed its eyes and exhibited every symptom of extreme terror when struck repeatedly upon the trunk and face. The male is generally more uncertain than the female. It would at first sight appear that for shooting purposes the bull elephant would be preferred for its greater strength and courage. There can be no doubt that a pair of long tusks is an important protection, and not only forms a defence against the attack of a tiger or other animal, but is valuable for offensive purposes; yet, notwithstanding this advantage, the female is generally preferred to the male, as being more docile and obedient.
The males differ in character, but they are mostly uncertain in temper during a period varying from two to four months every year. At such occurrences of disturbance the animal requires careful treatment, and the chains which shackle the fore legs should be of undoubted quality. Some elephants remain passive throughout the year, while others appear to be thoroughly demented, and, although at other seasons harmless, would, when "must," destroy their own attendant and wreak the direst mischief. At such a crisis the mahout must always be held responsible for accidents, as the animal, if properly watched and restrained, would be incapable of active movements, and would of course be comparatively harmless. Upon many occasions, through the neglect of the attendant, an elephant has been left unchained, or perhaps secured with an old chain that has been nearly worn through a link; the escape of the animal under such circumstances has led to frightful casualties, usually commencing with the destruction of the mahout, who may have attempted a recapture. The approach of the "must" period is immediately perceived by a peculiar exudation of an oily nature from a small duct upon either temple; this somewhat resembles coal-tar in consistence, and it occupies an area of about four inches square upon the surface of the skin. There is a decided odour in this secretion somewhat similar to the same exudation from the neck of the male camel.
I have known male elephants which were remarkably docile throughout all seasons, but even these had to be specially regarded during the period of "must," as there was no means of foretelling a sudden and unexpected outbreak of temper. Many males are at all times fretful, and these expend their ill-nature in various ways; if chained, they kick up the earth, and scatter the dust in all directions; they are never quiet for one moment throughout the day, but continue to swing their heads to and fro, and prick forward their ears, exhibiting a restlessness of spirit that is a sufficient warning to any stranger. Such elephants should always be approached with caution, and never directly in front, but at the side.
An elephant is frequently treacherous, and if the person should stand unheedingly before it, a sudden slap with the trunk might be the consequence. For the same reason, it would be dangerous to approach the heels of such an animal, as a kick from an elephant is rather an extensive movement, and it is extraordinary that so colossal a limb as the hind leg can be projected with such velocity, equalling that of a small pony.
Discussions have frequently arisen concerning the maximum speed of an elephant; this is difficult to decide exactly, as there can be no question that the animal in a wild state will exert a greater speed than can be obtained from it when domesticated. The African variety is decidedly faster than the Asiatic; the legs being longer, the stride is in proportion; and as the habits of the African lead it to wander over large tracts of open country instead of confining its rambles to secluded forests, this peculiarity would naturally render the animal more active, and tend to accelerate its movements. I consider that the African elephant is capable of a speed of fifteen miles an hour, which it could keep up for two or three hundred yards, after which it would travel at about ten miles an hour, and actually accomplish the distance within that period. The Asiatic elephant might likewise attain a speed of fifteen miles for perhaps a couple of hundred yards, but it would not travel far at a greater pace than eight miles an hour, and it would reduce that pace to six after the first five miles.