There is another popular belief that the crocodile is exceedingly sensitive to tickling; and that it will relax its hold of a man, if he can only contrive to reach and rub with his hand the softer parts of its under side.[1] An incident indicative of some reality in this piece of folklore, once came under my own observation.  One morning, about sunrise, when riding across the sandy plain near the old fort of Moeletivoe, we came suddenly upon a crocodile asleep under some bushes of the Buffalo-thorn, several hundred yards from the water.  The terror of the poor wretch was extreme, when it awoke and found itself discovered and completely surrounded.  It was a hideous creature, upwards of ten feet long, and evidently of prodigious strength, had it been in a condition to exert it, but consternation completely paralysed it.  It started to its feet and turned round in a circle hissing and clanking its bony jaws, with its ugly green eye intently fixed upon us.  On being struck with a stick, it lay perfectly quiet and apparently dead.  Presently it looked cunningly round, and made a rush towards the water, but on a second blow it lay again motionless and feigning death.  We tried to rouse it, but without effect, pulled its tail, slapped its back, struck its hard scales, and teased it in every way, but all in vain; nothing would induce it to move till accidentally my son, then a boy of twelve years old, tickled it gently under the arm, and in an instant it drew the limb close to its side and turned to avoid a repetition of the experiment.  Again it was touched under the other arm, and the same emotion was exhibited, the great monster twisting about like an infant to avoid being tickled.  The scene was highly amusing, but the sun was rising high, and we pursued our journey to Moeletivoe, leaving the crocodile to make its way to the adjoining lake.

[Footnote 1:  A native gentleman who resided for a long time at Caltura tells me that in the rivers which flow into the sea, both there and at Bentotte, crocodiles are frequently caught in corrals, formed of stakes driven into the ground in shallow water, and so constructed, that when the reptile enters to seize the bait placed within, the aperture closes behind and secures him.  A professional “crocodile charmer” then enters muttering a spell, and with one end of a stick pats the creature gently on the head for a time.  The operator then boldly mounts astride upon its shoulders, and continues to soothe it with his one hand, whilst with the other he contrives to pass a rope under its body, by which it is at last dragged on shore.  This story serves to corroborate the narrative of Mr. Waterton and his alligator.]

The Singhalese believe that the crocodile can only move swiftly on sand or smooth clay, its feet being too tender to tread firmly on hard or stony ground.  In the dry season, when the watercourses begin to fail and the tanks become exhausted, the marsh-crocodiles have occasionally been encountered in the jungle, wandering in search of water.  During a severe drought in 1844, they deserted a tank near Kornegalle and traversed the town during the night, on their way to another reservoir in the suburb; two or three fell into the wells; others in their trepidation, laid eggs in the street, and some were found entangled in garden fences and killed.