disperse without getting a shot; nor did he have
another chance before his departure from the
island.

The peninsula of Jaffna is separated from the
rest of the island (save at one spot, where a
narrow strip of land connects the two) by a
shallow inlet of the sea. Among other fords,
there is one called Elephant Pass, where the
Dutch built a little redoubt in the olden times.
Many pleasant reminiscences cling around this
little fort. It stands alone on a plain interspersed
with clumps of jungle— the haunts of deer,
hares, partridges, and jungle-fowl. On the
lakes, and tanks, and lagoons, to be seen from
the windows over the ramparts, are, at certain
seasons, teal, wild ducks, pelicans, spoonbills,
flamingoes, and other aquatic birds, and also
numbers of crocodiles. In former times, the
elephants used periodically to cross the ford at
this spot, and visit the peninsula, at the season
when the tempting fruit of the palmyra palm
promised them a grateful repast; but, of late
years, the extension of cultivation in the vicinity,
and the various other causes which have tended
to diminish the number of elephants generally,
have influenced their visits to this locality.
Nevertheless, the last time I was there, a tusker
was reported to be in the neighbourhood, and
his fresh marks were all around. I have often
heard an old resident tell how, one fine morning,
it was reported to him that there were a couple
of elephants in the town of Jaffna. One of them
chose to take his course down the main street,
to the great terror of the inhabitants. In the
course of his peregrinations he upset an old
woman, but did her no further injury. Being
pursued by a couple of sportsmen, lie tried to recross
the lake near the custom-house, but one of
his pursuers took boat and killed him in the water.

Till within a few years a reward was paid by
government, as before said, for elephants' tails
produced at a government agent's office. The
hope of reward stimulated many natives to
engage in the destruction of elephants; but as
they were intent only on securing the tail, it
often happened that, after their depriving the
animal of its caudal extremity, it would get up
again and run off. It therefore became customary
to demand the production of part of the trunk also.

The Malays in the neighbourhood of Hanabaratotte
are said to be exceedingly daring
huntsmen. They will go behind an elephant
and give him a slap or pull his tail, and as he
turns round they fire at him behind the ear, and
bring him down by a single ball.

Sir Emerson Tennent has graphically and
faithfully described the mode in which elephants
are captured in Ceylon by erecting a strong
enclosure, called a kraal, into which the elephants
are carefully driven. The word kraal is one in
common use in the island, to denote any enclosure.
The fishermen call those fish-trans
which thry make in the rivers and lakes by the
same name, and it is the general term among the
farmers of South Africa for their sheep-pens.
The word is a Dutch one, and, like many other
Dutch words, has been adopted by the Singhalese.
The last elephant kraal was in the
Koruegalle district. It took place in the month
of August last, and I am indebted to a local
newspaper, the Ceylon Times, for the following
account of the capture:

"After twenty-four hours of intense suspense,
the alarm was given by loud shouts from all
sides that the animals were entering the kraal,
and of course a general rush took place in order
to secure a good view of the proceedings. Each
vied with the other in endeavouring to obtain
the most prominent place. Trees were the
resorts of hundreds, and the strong wooden
palisading was resorted to by crowds eager to
obtain a good view of the ' take.' First, a pair
of elephants, wearied and worn with driving and
heat, made their appearance. Whether the
noise or the sight of the eager spectators in the
trees alarmed the huge creatures, I know not,
but it is certain that the companions of the first
pair changed their minds, if elephants have any
minds, and no more entered the enclosure at the
time. The next batch that was entrapped was
a nice little lot of fifteen, and these were made
up to forty, and afterwards to forty-four on the
next day. The poor brutes came in very much
subdued— not with the savage ferocity I had
been led to expect. There was no wild trumpeting—
no mad onslaughts on the palisades— no
charging the guards as one reads of in books.
The weather had been oppressively hot for some
time; the brooks were all dried up, and the
thirsty creatures, when they reached the entrance
to the kraal, were as completely used up as
though they had been hunted down for a month.

"It was nevertheless a striking scene that
' drive in.' What with the motley crowds on
every possible eminence, the long array of guards
with white wands, the huge brutes within the
fence, the stately forest trees, and the bright
moon shining high above us, the effect was such
as I shall not easily forget.

"But grander still was the scene when, on a
given signal, a hundred fires shot their bright
flames flickering through the dense depths of
the surrounding forest, and for a time seemed
to pale the soft light of the moon. It was a
novel sight to most of us, and for hours we
remained there, riveted to the spot by the wild
enchantment of the scene.

"Two only of the elephants were shot,
being unruly; the rest were quietly and cautiously
proceeded with in the usual fashion, a
number of decoy elephants being introduced
within the kraal for that purpose. There was a
small pool of water within the enclosure, once
no doubt a tank of some extent, but now dried
up by the hot weather. To this the thirsty
animals made a rush in a body as soon as it was
perceived; their eagerness, however, defeated
their object, for no sooner had their huge feet
entered the pool than it became a mass of mud
trampled into the veriest puddle.

"In spite of the exhausted condition of the
animals there was some difficulty in noosing
them, which was a work of time. They were
eventually secured and marched off, each one