There are numerous rumours current in camp that the chiefs are forming an alliance against us, and that they intend to put their forces in motion to attack us. But of all this I cannot say that I believe one word. Nor do I consider it a matter of importance one way or another, for if they do come they will go away again at a vastly greater rate of speed than they advance, and will be very much more civil afterwards. After the landing of the Chief yesterday I went on board the Gomta, which has brought in nineteen elephants from Bombay, in charge of Captain Annesley, of the Land Transport Train. They all arrived in excellent condition, having been perfectly well during the whole voyage, except for two days, when there was a strong wind, which made them very unhappy. The debarkation was to begin directly the Commander-in-chief had landed. Accordingly, a party of sailors and marines came on board from the Octavia. The tackle had been already fixed, and the barge was alongside. It had been at first proposed that the animals should have been lowered over the ship’s side into the water, and allowed to swim ashore; but the difficulty in relieving them of the slings would have been so great that it was determined, at any rate, to make the experiment with the barge. The animals were down in the hold, which was amply high enough even for the largest of them. They were ranged along on either side, with strong beams between each. They could lie down or stand up as they pleased. The operation of landing them was superintended by Captain Annesley, and by one of the officers of the Octavia. Large blocks were attached to the mainyard, which was strengthened by extra stays. One of the animals who was in the stall immediately under the hatchway was selected for the first experiment. The first difficulty consisted in getting the sling which was of the strongest canvas, with strong ropes along each side, under him. It was laid down upon the ground, and the mahout endeavoured to back the animal over it. Again and again he got him into the right position, but the instant the sailors pulled to the cords to lift up the sling the elephant made a rush forward. At last Sergeant Evans, who is one of the first-class inspectors in the transport train, succeeded in getting the sling under him in his stall, and then getting on his back, backed him under the blocks, the sailors keeping the sling in its place until they could get the hooks fast. Even then all was not finished, for the alarmed elephant continued trumpeting, and endeavouring to rush back to his stall. Sergeant Evans managed to get the breast- and hind-ropes fast, and then all that remained was for the men on deck to work the capstan. The fife struck up, and the elephant, protesting strongly but uselessly, was gradually lifted off his feet. Once in the air the great beast’s strength was useless, and he swung an inert mass, except that as he went through the hatchway he got his