sition, so as to strengthen the door, and a similar
cross is dropped on the opposite side of the door.
To make the retreat impossible, horizontal bars
are thrust across, through the palisades, both before and behind the crosses. The passage is too
narrow to allow an elephant to turn, but as soon
as he hears the noise of the shutting of the gate,
he pushes himself against it backwards, but without avail. Finding his retreat cut off, he exerts
his utmost force to break down other bars, which
were previously put across a little farther on,
running against them, screaming and roaring, and
battering them like a ram, with repeated blows
of his head, retreating and advancing with the
utmost fury.
At length, when he is exhausted, strong ropes with nooses are spread around him, and no sooner does he step into one, than he is fast bound to the palisades. When sufficiently secured, a sort of harness of powerful ropes is fastened around his body; and, lastly, two stout cables are firmly attached to him, the ends of which are fastened to two tame elephants. The outer door is then opened, the fastenings of his legs slipped, and he is led out by his treacherous brethren to a spot where he is bound to two trees. The tame animals there leave him, a prey to rage and despair: his agony is fearful; he tramples the food which is offered him under his feet, and sometimes even falls a victim to his paroxysms of fury. Usually, however, hunger breaks his pride; he begins to eat; and then gentle treatment soon makes him submissive.
