It is well known that the entire males of many domestic animals are naturally savage. The horse, bull, boar, and the park-fed stag are all uncertain in their tempers and may be pronounced unsafe; but the male elephant, although dangerous to a stranger and treacherous to his attendants, combines an extraordinary degree of cowardice with his natural ferocity. A few months ago I witnessed a curious example of this combination in the elephant's character. A magnificent specimen had been lent to me by the Commissariat Department at Jubbulpur; this was a high caste bull elephant named Bisgaum that was well known as bad-tempered, but was supposed to be courageous. He had somewhat tarnished his reputation during the last season by turning tail upon a tiger that rushed out of dense bush and killed a coolie within a few yards of his trunk; but this momentary panic was excused, and the blame was thrown upon the mahout. The man was dismissed, and a first-rate Punjaubi driver was appointed in his stead. This man assured me that the elephant was dependable; I accordingly accepted him, and he was ordered to carry the howdah throughout the expedition. In a very short experience we discovered the necessity of giving Bisgaum a wide berth, as he would fling out his trunk with extreme quickness to strike a person within his reach, and he would kick out sharply with his hind leg whenever a native ventured to approach his rear. He took a fancy to me, as I fed him daily with sugar-canes, jaggery, and native chupatties (cakes), which quickly established an understanding between us; but I always took the precaution of standing by his side instead of in his front, and of resting my left hand upon his tusk while I fed him with the right. Every morning at daylight he was brought to the tent with Demoiselle (the female elephant), and they both received from my own hands the choice bits which gained their confidence.