whether they were hyenas or wolves.
THE BEAR
Bears will often continue on the road in front of the palanquin for a mile or two, tumbling and playing all sorts of antics, as if they were taught to do so. I believe it is their natural disposition; for they certainly are the most amusing creatures imaginable in their wild state. It is no wonder that with monkeys they are led about to amuse mankind. It is astonishing, as well as ludicrous, to see them climb rocks, and tumble or rather roll down precipices. If they are attacked by any person on horseback, they stand erect on their hind legs, shewing a fine set of white teeth, and making a cackling kind of noise. If the horse comes near them, they try to catch him by the legs, and if they miss him, they tumble over and over several times. They are easily speared by a person mounted on a horse that is bold enough to go near them.
SAGACITY OF THE ELEPHANT
An elephant belonging to Mr. Boddam, of the Bengal Civil Service, at Gyah, used every day to pass over a small bridge leading from his master's house into the town of Gyah. He one day refused to go over it, and it was with great difficulty, by goring him most cruelly with the Hunkuss [iron instrument], that the Mahout [driver] could get him to venture on the bridge, the strength of which he first tried with his trunk, shewing clearly that he suspected that it was not sufficiently strong. At last he went on, and before he could get over, the bridge gave way, and they were precipitated into the ditch, which killed the driver, and considerably injured the elephant. It is reasonable to suppose that the elephant must have perceived its feeble state when he last passed over it. It is a well known fact, that elephants will seldom or ever go over strange bridges, without first trying with their trunks if they be sufficiently strong to bear their weight,–nor will they ever go into a boat without doing the same.
I had a remarkably quiet and docile elephant, which one day came home loaded with branches of trees for provender, followed by a number of villagers, calling for mercy (their usual cry when ill used); complaining that the Mahout had stolen a kid from them, and that it was then on the elephant, under the branches of the trees. The Mahout took an opportunity of decamping into the village and hiding himself. I ordered the elephant to be unloaded, and was surprised to see that he would not allow any person to come near to him, when at all other times he was perfectly tractable and obedient. Combining all the circumstances, I was convinced that the Mahout was guilty, and to get rid of the noise, I recompensed the people for the loss of their kid. As soon as they were gone away, the elephant allowed himself to be unloaded, and the kid was found under the branches, as described by the people. I learnt from my Sarcar, that similar complaints had been made to him before, and that the rascal of a Mahout made it a practice to ride the elephant into the midst of a herd of goats, and had taught him to pick up any of the young ones he directed; he had also accustomed him to steal their pumpions and other vegetables, that grew against the inside of their fences like French beans, which could only be reached by an elephant. He was the best Mahout I ever knew, and so great a rogue that I was obliged to discharge him.
The very day that he left my service, the elephant's eyes were closed, which he did not open again in less than a fortnight, when it was discovered that he was blind. Two small eschars, one in each eye, were visible, which indicated pretty strongly that he had been made blind by some sharp instrument, most probably by a heated needle. The suspicion was very strong against the former keeper, of whom I never heard anything after. The elephant I frequently rode on, shooting, for many years after this, through heavy covers, intersected with ravines, rivers, and over hollow and uneven ground, and he scarcely ever made a false step with me, and never once tumbled. He used to touch the ground with his trunk on every spot where his feet were to be placed, and in so light and quick a manner as scarcely to be perceived. The Mahout would often make him remove large stones, lumps of earth, or timber, out of his way, frequently climb up and down banks that no horse could get over. He would also occasionally break off branches of trees that were in the way of the Howdah, to enable me to pass.
Although perfectly blind, he was considered one of the best sporting elephants of his small size in the country, and he travelled at a tolerably good rate, and was remarkably easy in his paces.
ANECDOTES OF THE TIGER
An occurrence nearly similar happened to me soon after, which put an end to my shooting on foot. From that time to the period of my leaving Chittrah, which was many years after, I always went out to shoot on an elephant. The circumstance I allude to was as follows:–Fifty or sixty people were beating a thick cover. I was on the outside of it, with a man holding my horse, and another servant with a hog's spear; when those who were driving the cover called Suer! Suer! which is the Hindoostanee name for hog. Seeing something move the bushes about twenty yards from me, and supposing it to be a hog, I fired at the spot, with ten or a dozen small balls. Instantly on the explosion of my gun, a tiger roared out, and came galloping straight towards us. I dipped under the horse's belly, and got on the opposite side from him. He came within a few yards of us, and then turned off growling into the cover.
When the people came out, they brought with them a dead hog, partly devoured. These two cases, I think, shew clearly that tigers are naturally cowardly. They generally take their prey by surprise, and whenever they attack openly, it is reasonable to conclude that they must be extremely hungry; which I believe is often the case, as their killing animals of the forest must be very precarious. It is the general opinion of the inhabitants, that when a tiger has tasted human blood he prefers it to all other food. A year or two sometimes elapses without any one being killed by a tiger for several miles round, although they are often seen in that space, and are known to destroy cattle; but as soon as one man is killed, others shortly after share the same fate. This, I imagine, is the reason why the natives entertain an idea that they prefer men to all other food. I account for it otherwise. Tigers are naturally afraid of men, and, in the first instance, seldom attack them, unless compelled by extreme hunger. When once they have ventured an attack, they find them much easier prey than most animals of the forest, and always to be met with near villages, and on public roads, without the trouble of hunting about for them through the covers.
A tigress with two cubs lurked about the Kutkumsandy pass, and during two months killed a man almost every day, and on some days two. Ten or twelve of the people belonging to government (carriers of the post-bags) were of the number. In fact, the communication between the Presidency and the upper provinces was almost entirely cut off. The government, therefore, was induced to offer a large reward to any person who killed the tigress.
She was fired at, and, adds Mr. J., never … "heard of after;" from which it may be presumed she was wounded. It is fortunate for the inhabitants of that country, that tigers seldom survive any wound; their blood being always in a state predisposing to putrefaction, consequence of the extreme heat, and their living entirely on animal food....
Two Biparies1 were driving a string of loaded bullocks to Chittrah from Palamow. When they were come within a few miles of the former place, a tiger seized on the man in the rear, which was seen by a Guallah [herdsman], as he was watching his buffaloes grazing. He boldly ran to the man's assistance, and cut the tiger severely with his sword; upon which he dropped the Biparie and seized the herdsman: the buffaloes observing it, attacked the tiger, and rescued the poor man; they tossed him about from one to the other, and, to the best of my recollection, killed him; but of that I am not quite positive. Both of the wounded men were brought to me. The Biparie recovered, and the herdsman died.
An elderly man and his wife (of the lowest caste of Hindoos, called dooms, who live chiefly by making mats and baskets) were each carrying home a bundle of wood, and as they were resting their burdens on the ground, the old man hearing a strange noise, looked about, and saw a tiger running off with his wife in his mouth. He ran after them, and struck the tiger on the back with a small axe: the tiger dropt the wife, who was soon after brought
