On board, we found it was badly hurt. The kite’s talons had penetrated the skin; the wounds were dressed, and it was made over to the care of a kind mid, by name Glynn. But where the claws had penetrated maggots bred: rum would not destroy them; it was thought kinder to let the little thing get tipsy on sugar and rum, and when in a state of insensibility commit the little body to the deep. The Rajah soon found out that I was fond of sport. He now took me in his state boat to a spot up the river towards the Rumbau range, which heads the Moowar. On landing, he led me to an opening, and, seated on a fallen tree, we saw at least five hundred elephants with young ones at foot, passing quietly through the low jungle, the elders breaking off the tender green shoots, and so feeding their young. The whole mass moved in a slow and solemn manner. The males were excluded. A sight that I shall never forget! [Illustration: _Elephants with Young at Foot, Moowar Valley._] Dark quickly follows sunset. Wishing to test the alertness observed on board my puny fleet, I sent secretly, beyond the bend of the river, a Malay with a cocoanut-oil lamp, to be placed with lighted wick so as to float down close to the bushes. The stream was running fresh. [Sidenote: July.] About 9 P.M. heard the first hail; the second was followed by the report of a musket, and so repeated down the line. My imaginary enemy floated out to sea, the Chief having made no signal to chase. Soon all was quiet until the denizens of the jungle announced their thirst. One morning the Rajah borrowed a three-pounder brass swivel he had noticed on board. An hour later I heard a report and started in the gig. It was a pull against stream and a scramble over deep marshy ground, which was worse for us than for Malay guides, which the Rajah had sent, knowing the report of the swivel would bring me. We found His Highness had had a climb. With the three-pounder swivel he had broken the near hind-leg of a female elephant just above the lower joint. As we came up the poor beast made a fresh attempt to escape. As the Rajah appeared to be indifferent, I thought it would be a mercy to put her out of misery. In Ceylon, the vulnerable spot in the forehead had been pointed out to me. A rifle-shot put her out of misery. It was amusing to see the ease with which the young one, by a swing of the leg, turned over any one of the boat’s crew who attempted to pass the painter over its head. [Illustration: _Blue-jackets in Chase._] As morning broke, a refreshing rifle-shot was generally to be found by a sleeping alligator on the mud. If you hit him, he would slide into the river. I have often fancied they do not hear: within a couple of inches, I have struck rocks and mud without disturbing them.