for four consecutive days on duty, Mr. Armstrong announced that all was ready, and that about eleven o’clock, when the elephants were gener¬ ally quietest, the drive would take place. Two platforms had been erected above the stockade, into which we climbed, and the driving party under the command of Mr. Armstrong and the old Jemadar were mustered. The Nepalese were selected from the most experienced jungle men, and between every two of them one of the Dacca men accustomed to this work was placed. Absolute silence was ordered when the party marched off in two lines which spread out from the stockade and swept the whole of the forest within the guard line, and, when the leaders met on the far side perhaps a mile away from the stockade, gradually closed in. After waiting an hour or so we heard a great noise accompanied by many shots from the guard line, which told us that the elephants were on the move, and the noise came nearer and nearer till we thought that the herd must be within the wings of the stockade. But after a time the noise died down and for an hour nothing more was heard. The same thing happened again, and at last Mr. Armstrong came back to the stockade very hot from his exertions and told us that the Nepalese drivers were so excited and keen that he could not keep them in order, and that on the first occasion the elephants were on the point of entering the wings but were so frightened by the noise that they broke back. After a consultation it was decided, on the advice of the Jemadar, to move the cloth screens to another position where the grass was thicker, and wait a bit before trying another drive. This was done, and about 4 p.m. a final and successful effort was made. The elephants came on within the screens, and then Armstrong and his men lit grass fires behind them and, by dint of firing and yelling, got them on the move towards the alley into which an old cow first came rushing down. The others followed her, and, as soon as they were all within the wider part of the alley, the crowd of men yelling and firing rushed them forward in a long line. We could only see their backs as they came down the alley one after another and entered the stockade with a rush. The rope which held up the gate was cut a little too soon, shutting out one or two of the hindmost elephants, but these were determined to follow their companions, and pushed their way through the gate, which was so hung as to push inwards. The whole herd was then inside, and until it was dark they continued to go round and round in a dense crowd, whilst the men who surrounded the stockade prodded their trunks with spears or fired blank cartridges in their faces when any of the larger ones tried to force their way through. It was very curious to see the way in which the youngest elephants, of which there were three only a few months old, managed to save themselves from being trodden down by keeping between their mothers’ forelegs, and the care which the dams took to protect them. As it was then too late to begin to tie up the animals, we left the stockade at dark to the care of the guards, who had now left their posts and come to the stockade.
Next morning we returned to see the process of roping and leading out the elephants. But though several of the finest and strongest tame ones were brought into the enclosure, the mahouts seemed unused to the work they now had to do in such a dense crowd of elephants. There
