them into heaps
along the side of the fence.

[Illustration of elephant resisting capture.]

Amongst the last that was secured was the solitary individual belonging
to the fugitive herd. When they attempted to drag him backwards from the
tree near which he was noosed, he laid hold of it with his trunk and lay
down on his side immoveable. The temple tusker and another were ordered
up to assist, and it required the combined efforts of the three
elephants to force him along. When dragged to the place at which he was
to be tied up, he continued the contest with desperation, and to prevent
the second noose being placed on his foot, he sat down on his haunches,
almost in the attitude of the "Florentine Boar," keeping his hind-feet
beneath him, and defending his fore-feet with his trunk, with which he
flung back the rope as often as it was attempted to attach it.

[Illustration of elephant lying on ground after capture.]

When overpowered and made fast, his grief was most affecting; his
violence sunk to utter prostration, and he lay on the ground, uttering
choking cries, with tears trickling down his cheeks.

The final operation was that of slackening the ropes, and marching each
captive down to the river between two tame ones. This was effected very
simply. A decoy, with a strong collar round its neck, stood on either
side of the wild one, on which a similar collar was formed, by
successive coils of coco-nut rope; and then, connecting the three
collars together, the prisoner was effectually made safe between his two
guards. During this operation, it was curious to see how the tame
elephant, from time to time, used its trunk to shield the arm of its
rider, and ward off the trunk of the prisoner, who resisted the placing
the rope round his neck. This done, the nooses were removed from his
feet, and he was marched off to the river, in which he and his
companions were allowed to bathe; a privilege of which all availed
themselves eagerly. Each was then made fast to a tree in the forest, and
keepers being assigned to him, with a retinue of leaf-cutters, he was
plentifully supplied with his favourite food, and left to the care and
tuition of his new masters.

Returning from a spectacle such as I have attempted to describe, one
cannot help feeling how immeasurably it exceeds in interest those royal
battues where timid deer are driven in crowds to unresisting slaughter;
or those vaunted "wild sports" the amusement of which appea