Bears will often continue on the road in front of the palanquin for a mile or two, tumbling and playing all sorts of antics, as if they were taught to do so. I believe it is their natural disposition; for they certainly are the most amusing creatures imaginable in their wild state. It is no wonder that with monkeys they are led about to amuse mankind. It is astonishing, as well as ludicrous, to see them climb rocks, and tumble or rather roll down precipices. If they are attacked by any person on horseback, they stand erect on their hind legs, shewing a fine set of white teeth, and making a cackling kind of noise. If the horse comes near them, they try to catch him by the legs, and if they miss him, they tumble over and over several times. They are easily speared by a person mounted on a horse that is bold enough to go near them.
An elephant belonging to Mr. Boddam, of the Bengal Civil Service, at _Gyah_, used every day to pass over a small bridge leading from his master's house into the town of _Gyah_. He one day refused to go over it, and it was with great difficulty, by goring him most cruelly with the _Hunkuss_ [iron instrument], that the _Mahout_ [driver] could get him to venture on the bridge, the strength of which he first tried with his trunk, shewing clearly that he suspected that it was not sufficiently strong. At last he went on, and before he could get over, the bridge gave way, and they were precipitated into the ditch, which killed the driver, and considerably injured the elephant. It is reasonable to suppose that the elephant must have perceived its feeble state when he last passed over it. It is a well known fact, that elephants will seldom or ever go over strange bridges, without first trying with their trunks if they be sufficiently strong to bear their weight,--nor will they ever go into a boat without doing the same.
I had a remarkably quiet and docile elephant, which one day came home loaded with branches of trees for provender, followed by a number of villagers, calling for mercy (their usual cry when ill used); complaining that the _Mahout_ had stolen a kid from them, and that it was then on the elephant, under the branches of the trees. The _Mahout_ took an opportunity of decamping into the village and hiding himself. I ordered the elephant to be unloaded, and was surprised to see that he would not allow any person to come near to him, when at all other times he was perfectly tractable and obedient. Combining all the circumstances, I was convinced that the _Mahout_ was guilty, and to get rid of the noise, I recompensed the people for the loss of their kid. As soon as they were gone away, the elephant allowed himself to be unloaded, and the kid was found under the branches, as described by the people. I learnt from my _Sarcar_, that similar complaints had been made to him before, and that the rascal of a _Mahout_ made it a practice to ride the elephant into the midst of a herd of goats, and had taught him to pick up any of the young ones he directed; he had also accustomed him to steal their pumpions and other vegetables, that grew against the inside of their fences like French beans, which could only be reached by an elephant. He was the best _Mahout_ I ever knew, and so great a rogue that I was obliged to discharge him.