There is a great art in running away.It requires the perfection of coolness and presence of mind, without which a man is most likely to run into the very danger that he is trying to avoid.This was the cause of Major Haddock's death in Ceylon some years ago.He had attacked a 'rogue,' and, being immediately charged, he failed to stop him, although he gave him both barrels.Being forced to run, he went off at full speed, and turning quickly round a tree, he hoped the elephant would pass him.Unfortunately, he did not look behind him before he turned, and the elephant passed round the opposite side of the tree, and, of course, met him face to face.He was instantly trampled to death.
Mr.Wallet was also killed by a rogue elephant; this animal was shot a few days afterwards, in a spirited contest, by Captain Galway and Ensign Scroggs, both of whom were very nearly caught in the encounter.Agentleman of the name of Keane was added to the list of victims a few years ago.He had fired without effect, and was almost immediately over-taken by the elephant and crushed to death.The most extraordinary tale that I have ever heard of rogue elephants in Ceylon was told me by the Rhatamahatmeya of Doolana, who was present at the scene when a lad.I do not profess to credit it entirely; but I will give it in his own words, and, to avoid the onus of an improbable story, I will entitle it the 'Rhatamahatmeya's Tale.' In justice to him, I must acknowledge that his account was corroborated by all the old men of the village.
THE RHATAMAHATMEYA'S TALE.
'There was a notorious rogue elephant at Doolana about thirty years ago, whose ferocity was so extreme that he took complete possession of a certain part of the country adjoining the lake.He had killed eight or nine persons, and his whole object in existence appeared to be the waylaying and destruction of the natives.He was of enormous size, and was well known by a peculiar flesh-coloured forehead.
`In those days there were no fire-arms in this part of the country;therefore there was no protection for either life or property from this monster, who would invade the paddy-fields at night, and actually pull down the watch-houses, regardless of the blazing fires which are lighted on the hearth of sand on the summit; these he used to scatter about and extinguish.He had killed several natives in this manner, involving them in the common ruin with their watch-houses.The terror created by this elephant was so extreme that the natives deserted the neighbourhood that he infested.
`At length many months passed away without his being either seen or heard of; the people began to hope that he had died from the effect of poisoned arrows, which had frequently been shot at him from the watch-houses in high trees; and, by degrees, the terror of his name had lost its power, and he ceased to be thought of.
`It was in the cool of the evening, about an hour before sunset, that about twenty of the women from the village were upon the grassy borders of the lake, engaged in sorting and tying into bundles the rushes which they had been gathering during the day for making mats.They were on the point of starting homeward with their loads, when the sudden trumpet of an elephant was heard, and to their horror they saw the well-known rogue, with the unmistakable mark upon his forehead, coming down in full charge upon them.The ground was perfectly open; there were no trees for some hundred yards, except the jungle from which he was advancing at a frightful speed.An indiscriminate flight of course took place, and a race of terror commenced.In a few seconds the monster was among them, and, seizing a young girl in his trunk, he held her high in the air, and halted, as though uncertain how to dispose of his helpless victim.The girl, meanwhile, was vainly shrieking for assistance, and the petrified troop of women, having gained the shelter of some jungle, gazed panic-stricken upon the impending fate of their companion.
