CHAPTER III.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE ELEPHANT, EXHIBITED IN CONNEXION WITH ITS NATURAL HABITS;-CON

TINUED.

THE construction of the elephant's head indicates that its scent is remarkably acute. Anatomists point out the excellence of its organ of smelling, in the complicated formation of the ethmoid bone, and the largeness of the frontal sinuses *. As elephants live in troops, and yet must often disperse for the collection of their food, it is a necessary condition of their existence that they should have such an acuteness in the organs of smelling and hearing, as will enable them to gather together without diffi, culty. These organs are of more importance to them than that of sight; for in thick woods and high jungles, in which they generally abound, the eye would avail little in directing them to particular spots, either for food or society. The eye of the elephant is unusually small. This comparatively diminutive size of the eye assists in its protection from injury amidst the bushes where he seeks his food;-and it is provided with a nictitating membrane, by which he is enabled to free it from all small noxious substances, such as broken leaves and insects. Small as the eye is, it is by no means an imperfect organ; although he cannot direct its range above the level of his head. The trunk supplies the deficiency;-and the sense of smelling directs the organ of touch to such food as * See Lawrence's and Coulson's Translation of Blumenbach,

p. 272.

he gathers from trees. His sense of smelling is in all respects much more powerful than his sight. Sparmann, an African traveller, gives an example of this, in the adventure of a native who was chased by a large elephant, to his great terror, under circumstances where he fancied himself secure. His words, in describing his conviction of the elephant's powerful sense of smelling, were these:-"With respect to the place I was in at first, I am certain that the animal could not see me, and consequently, that he first found me out by the scent." Mr. Corse says that elephants discover a tiger-track readily, by the smell.

Sir

The structure of the elephant's ear has been investigated with great accuracy by Sir Everard Home *. The drum, and every other part of the organ, are much larger in proportion than in other quadrupeds, or in man; and there is a remarkable difference in the arrangement of the muscular fibres of the drum of the elephant's ear, when compared with man and some other quadrupeds. In the human ear, these fibres are radii of a circle; and in the horse, the hare, and the cat, they are of an uniform length. But in the elephant's ear these fibres are so placed, that some are more than double the length of others. Everard Home argues from this remarkable construction, that the elephant has not a musical ear; but that it has a peculiar compensating power in this length of fibre, as its slower vibrations enable it to hear sounds at a greater distance: and this opinion is still further sustained by the structure of the different parts of the internal organ, more particularly the cells between the tables of the skull. Sir Everard Home illustrates his position that the elephant hears farther than other animals, and particularly that his hearing is more acute than that of man, by the following statements, which he gives upon the authority of Mr. Corse :

*Comparative Anatomy, vol. iii. Lecture ix.

"A tame elephant, who was never reconciled to the sound of a horse moving behind him, although he expressed no uneasiness if the horse was either before or on one side within his view, could distinguish the sound of a horse's foot at a distance, some time before any person in company heard it. This was known by his pricking up his ears, quickening his pace, and turning his head from side to side.

"The cells in the skull of the elephant explain the sounds from the ground striking his ear with more force; and explain an assertion very generally believed, that an elephant, when he comes to a bridge, tries the strength of it by his foot, and if his ear is not satisfied with the vibration, nothing can induce him to pass over it.

"A tame female elephant, who had a young one, was occasionally sent out with other elephants for food, without the young one being allowed to follow. She was not in the habit of pining after her young one, unless she heard its voice; but frequently, on the road home, when no one could distinguish any sound whatever, she pricked up her ears, and made a noise expressive of having heard the call of her young. This, having occurred frequently, attracted Mr. Corse's notice, and made him, at the time when the female elephant used such expressions, stop the party, and desire the gentlemen to listen; but they were unable to hear anything till they had approached nearer to the place where the young elephant was kept."

That this acuteness of hearing was implanted in the elephant for a wise purpose, we can have no doubt; for in the whole animal creation we constantly find that means are adapted to ends-that no being is endowed with a peculiar power, without at the same time having a peculiar mode of employing it. As surely as the extraordinary scent of the lion

conducts him to his prey, and the more wonderful sight of the vulture informs him where the carcase has fallen, so is the acute organ of hearing in the elephant intended to promote some great object of his animal and social economy. Let it not be forgotten, that as he is by far the largest of terrestrial creatures, he would be constantly exposed to peril from his own enormous weight, unless he had senses delicate enough to avert this peculiar evil. That his organ of touch is exquisitely fine, we have already seen; and when this is conjoined with an equally sensitive organ of hearing, we can understand why the elephant so rarely treads upon surfaces which are unable to support him-why he equally avoids the pitfall and the slough-why, although he delights in water, and cannot comfortably exist in places where there are no opportunities of drinking and bathing at his pleasure, he is scarcely ever betrayed by the slimy ooze or the shifting sand, but seeks those rivers where the bottom is hard, and upon which he can stand as fearlessly as upon the gravelly plain. The elephant, as we have repeatedly mentioned, is a social animal; yet, from the quantity of provisions which each requires, the individual must often feed apart from the herdthe male separated from the female, the young from the old, the mother, perhaps, from her little one. But the elephant has an expressive organ of voice. The sounds which he utters have been distinguished, by his Asiatic keepers, into three kinds. The first, which is very shrill, and is produced by blowing through his trunk, is indicative of pleasure; the second, produced by the mouth, is a low note expressive of want; the third, proceeding from the throat, is a terrific roar of anger or revenge. It will be perceived why an animal, which in some degree owes its safety to its social qualities, and which, individually, is unwilling to engage in a contest with the

fiercer beasts of prey, should have the means of understanding, by the distant voice of its fellows, when there is a common danger at hand; and, at the same time, should have his organ of hearing sufficiently acute to distinguish the cry of hunger from the scream of terror, and both from the shrill pipe of satisfaction.

But the elephant may be endued with this acute hearing, in addition to his exquisite touch, for the protection of the lesser animals from the accidents to which they would be subject from lying in his path. He has an extraordinary dislike to all small quadrupeds. Dogs running near him produce a great annoyance; if a hare start from her cover, he is immediately alarmed; and that pigs are his aversion has been recorded by every naturalist, from Pliny to Buffon. It is even mentioned by Procopius, the historian of the Persian and Gothic wars, that, at the siege of Edessa, by Chosroes, King of Persia, in the time of Justinian, the besieged Greeks employed the cry of a pig to frighten from the walls the elephants of their enemy. The old naturalists explained this peculiarity by the doctrine of antipathies; in the same way that they affirmed that the elephant was fond of an ox, upon the principle of sympathies. It may appear something equally fanciful to suggest the possibility that the elephant may dislike the smaller animals to come in his way from his instinctive disinclination to destroy them, by an accidental tread. He always avoids a contest with inferior quadrupeds wherever he can; and if a helpless living creature, such as an infant or a wounded man, lie in his way, he will remove the object. The elephant is naturally gentle-anxious alone to procure his own food without molesting others. That he is so, is a merciful, as well as a wise dispensation. If he had possessed a