the advanced
guard, when he left them for a moment and repeated his former
reconnoissance at the edge of the tank. After which, having apparently
satisfied himself that all was safe, he returned and obviously gave the
order to advance, for in a moment the whole herd rushed into the water
with a degree of unreserved confidence, so opposite to the caution and
timidity which had marked their previous movements, that nothing will
ever persuade me that there was not rational and preconcerted
co-operation throughout the whole party, and a degree of responsible
authority exercised by the patriarch leader.

"When the poor animals had gained possession of the tank (the leader
being the last to enter), they seemed to abandon themselves to enjoyment
without restraint or apprehension of danger. Such a mass of animal life
I had never before seen huddled together in so narrow a space. It seemed
to me as though they would have nearly drunk the tank dry. I watched
them with great interest until they had satisfied themselves as well in
bathing as in drinking, when I tried how small a noise would apprise
them of the proximity of unwelcome neighbours. I had but to break a
little twig, and the solid mass instantly took to flight like a herd of
frightened deer, each of the smaller calves being apparently shouldered
and carried along between two of the older ones."[1]

[Footnote 1: Letter from Major SKINNER.]

In drinking, the elephant, like the camel, although preferring water
pure, shows no decided aversion to it when discoloured with mud[1]; and
the eagerness with which he precipitates himself into the tanks and
streams attests his exquisite enjoyment of the fresh coolness, which to
him is the chief attraction. In crossing deep rivers, although his
rotundity and buoyancy enable him to swim with a less immersion than
other quadrupeds, he generally prefers to sink till no part of his huge
body is visible except the tip of his trunk, through which he breathes,
moving beneath the surface, and only now and then raising his head to
look that he is keeping the proper direction.[2] In the dry season the
scanty streams which, during the rains, are sufficient to convert the
rivers of the low country into torrents, often entirely disappear,
leaving only broad expanses of dry sand, which they have swept down with
them from the hills. In this the elephants contrive to sink wells for
their own use by scooping out the sand to the depth of four or five