1

I must not, however, conclude this epitome of the facts without alluding to the only other publication on the habits of the beaver which is of distinctly scientific value. This is a short but interesting paper by Prof. Alexander Agassiz. He says that the largest dam he has himself seen measured 650 feet in length, and 3 feet in height, with a small number of lodges in the vicinity of the pond. The number of lodges is always thus very small in proportion to the size of the dam, the greatest number of lodges that he has observed upon one pond being five. It is evident from this that beavers are not really gregarious in their habits, and that their dams and canals are the work of a comparatively small number of animals; but to make up for the numbers the work of succeeding inhabitants of any one pond must have been carried on for centuries to accomplish the gigantic results we find in some localities.'

In once case Prof. Agassiz obtained what may be termed geological evidence of the truth of an opinion advanced by Mr. Morgan, that beaver-works may be hundreds if not thousands of years in course of continuous formation. For the purpose of obtaining a secure foundation for a mill dam erected above a beaver dam, it was necessary to clear away the soil from the bottom of the beaver pond. This soil was found to be a peat bog. A trench was dug into the peat 12 feet wide by 1,200 feet long, and 9 feet deep; all the way along this trench old stumps of trees were found at various depths, some still bearing marks of having been gnawed by beavers' teeth. Agassiz calculated the growth of the bog as about a foot per century, so that here we have tolerably accurate evidence of an existing beaver dam being somewhere about a thousand years old.

The gradual growth of these enormous dams has the effect of greatly altering the configuration of the country where they occur. By taking levels from dams towards the sources of streams on which they occur, Agassiz was able ideally to reconstruct the original landscape before the growth of the dams, and he found that, from the

1 Note on Beaver Dams (Proc. Boston Soc. Nat. Hist., 1869, p. 101, et seq.).

nature of the surrounding country, the open spaces now joining the beaver ponds-the beaver meadows where the trees are scanty or small-must at one time have been all covered with forests.' At first the beavers 'began to clear the forest just in the immediate vicinity of the dams, extending in every direction, first up the stream as far as the nature of the creek would allow, and then laterally by means of their canals, as far as the level of the ground would allow, thus little by little clearing a larger area according to the time they have occupied any particular place.' In this way beavers may change the whole aspect of large tracts of country, covering with water a great extent of ground which was once thickly wooded.

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CHAPTER XIII.

ELEPHANT.

THE intelligence of the elephant is no doubt considerable, although there is equally little doubt that it is generally exaggerated. Some of the most notorious instances of the display of remarkable sagacity by this animal are probably fabulous, or at least are not sufficiently corroborated to justify belief. Such, for instance, is the celebrated story told by Pliny with all the assurance of a 'certum est,' and repeated by Plutarch,2 of the elephant, who having been beaten for not dancing properly, was afterwards found practising his steps alone in the light of the moon. Although this story cannot, in the absence of corroboration, be accepted as fact, we ought to remember, in connection with it, that many talking and piping birds unquestionably practise in solitude the accomplishments which they desire to learn.

Quitting, however, the enormous multitude of anecdotes, more or less doubtful, and which may or may not be true, I shall select a few well-authenticated instances of the display of elephant intelligence.

Memory.

As regards memory, several cases are on record of tamed elephants having become wild, and, on again being captured after many years, returning to all their old habits under domestication. Mr. Corse publishes in the 'Philosophical Transactions an instance which came under his own notice. He saw an elephant, which

1 Plin., Hist. Nat., viii. 1-13.

93

2 De Solert. Anim., c. 12.

3 Philosophical Transactions, 1799, p. 40.

was carrying baggage, take fright at the smell of a tiger and run off. Eighteen months afterwards this elephant was recognised by its keepers among a herd of wild companions, which had been captured and were confined in an enclosure. But when anyone approached the animal he struck out with his trunk, and seemed as fierce as any of the wild herd. An old hunter then mounted a tame elephant, went up to the feral one, seized his ear and ordered him to lie down. Immediately the force of old associations broke through all opposition, the word of command was obeyed, and the elephant while lying down gave a certain peculiar squeak which he had been known to utter in former days. The same author gives another and more interesting account of an elephant which, after having been for only two years tamed, ran wild for fifteen years, and on being then recaptured, remembered in all details the words of command. This, with several other well-authenticated facts of the same kind,' shows that the elephant certainly has an exceedingly tenacious memory, rendering credible the statement of Pliny, that in their more advanced age these animals recognise men who were their drivers when young.2

Emotions.

Concerning emotions, the elephant seems to be usually actuated by the most magnanimous of feelings. Even his proverbial vindictiveness appears only to be excited under a sense of remembered injustice. The universally known story of the tailor and the elephant doubtless had a foundation in fact, for there are several authentic cases on record of elephants resenting injuries in precisely the same way; and Captain Shipp personally tested the matter by giving to an elephant a sandwich of bread, butter, and cayenne pepper. He then waited for six

3

4

1 See Bingley, loc. cit., vol. i., pp. 148–51.

2 Hist. Nat., viii., 5.

For these and other cases of vindictiveness, see Bingley, loc. cit., vol. i., pp. 156-8.

Memoirs, vol. i., p. 448.

weeks before again visiting the animal, when he went into the stable and began to fondle the elephant as he had previously been accustomed to do. For a time no resentment was shown, so that the Captain began to think that the experiment had failed; but at last, watching for an opportunity, the elephant filled his trunk with dirty water, and drenched the Captain from head to foot.

Griffiths says that at the siege of Bhurtpore, in 1805, the British army had been a long time before the city, and, owing to the hot dry winds, the ponds and tanks had dried up. There used therefore to be no little struggle for priority in procuring water at one of the large wells which still contained water:

On one occasion two elephant-drivers, each with his elephant, the one remarkably large and strong, and the other comparatively small and weak, were at the well together; the small elephant had been provided by his master with a bucket for the occasion, which he carried on the end of his proboscis, but the larger animal, being destitute of this necessary vessel, either spontaneously, or by the desire of his keeper, seized the bucket, and easily wrested it from his less powerful fellow-servant; the latter was too sensible of his inferiority openly to resent the insult, though it is obvious that he felt it; but great squabbling and abuse ensued between the keepers. At length the weaker animal, watching the opportunity when the other was standing with his side to the well, retired backwards a few paces in a very quiet and unsuspicious manner, and then, rushing forward with all his might, drove his head against the side of the other, and fairly pushed him into the well.

Great trouble was experienced in extricating this elephant from the well-a task which would, indeed, have been impossible but for the intelligence of the animal itself. For when a number of fascines, which had been employed by the army in conducting the siege, were thrown down the well, the elephant showed sagacity enough to arrange them with his trunk so as to construct a continuously rising platform, by which he gradually raised himself to a level with the ground.

Allied to vindictiveness for small injuries is revenge for large ones, and this is often shown in a terrible manner