all these blows on the points of their weapons, the extremity of the trunk becomes so sore that the animal curls it up close, and seldom afterwards attempts to use it offensively.  The first dread of man’s power being thus established, the process of taking him to bathe between two tame elephants is greatly facilitated, and by lengthening the neck rope, and drawing the feet together as close as possible, the process of laying him down in the water is finally accomplished by the keepers pressing the sharp point of their hendoos over the backbone.

[Footnote 1:  BRODERIP, Zoological Recreations, p. 226.]

[Footnote 2:  The iron goad with which the keeper directs the movements of the elephants, called a hendoo in Ceylon and hawkus in Bengal, appears to have retained the present shape from the remotest antiquity.  It is figured in the medals of Caracalla in the identical form in which it is in use at the present day in India.

The Greeks called it [Greek:  harpe], and the Romans cuspis.

[Illustration:  Medal of Numidia.]

[Illustration:  Modern Hendoo.]]

For many days the roaring and resistance which attend the operation are considerable, and it often requires the sagacious interference of the tame elephants to control the refractory wild ones.  It soon, however, becomes practicable to leave the latter alone, only taking them to and from the stall by the aid of a decoy.  This step lasts, under ordinary treatment, for about three weeks, when an elephant may be taken alone with his legs hobbled, and a man walking backwards in front with the point of the hendoo always presented to the elephant’s head, and a keeper with an iron crook at each ear.  On getting into the water, the fear of being pricked on his tender back induces him to lie down directly on the crook being only held over him in terrorem.  Once this point has been achieved, the further process of taming is dependent upon the disposition of the creature.

The greatest care is requisite, and daily medicines are applied to heal the fearful wounds on the legs which even the softest ropes occasion.  This is the great difficulty of training; for the wounds fester grievously, and months and sometimes years will elapse before an elephant will allow his feet to be touched without indications of alarm and anger.

The observation has been frequently made that the elephants most vicious and troublesome to tame, and the most worthless when tamed, are those distinguished by a thin trunk and flabby pendulous ears.  The period of tuition does not appear to be influenced by the size or strength of the animals:  some of the smallest give the greatest amount of trouble; whereas, in the instance of the two largest that have been taken in Ceylon within the last thirty years, both were docile in a remarkable degree.  One in particular, which was caught and trained by Mr. Cripps, when Government agent, in the Seven Korles, fed from the hand the first night it was secured, and in a very few days evinced pleasure on being patted on the head.[1] There is none so obstinate, not even a rogue, that may not, when kindly and patiently treated, be conciliated and reconciled.