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When the men saw this great head sticking out through the side of the barn, and that great long trunk brandishing itself above their heads, they thought it was time to leave that little dog alone.

Here, again, is an Elephant story which is almost as tough as the animal’s hide, but we have no right to disbelieve it, for it is told by very respectable writers.  During the war between the East Indian natives and the English, in 1858, there was an Elephant named Kudabar Moll the Second,—­his mother having been a noted Elephant named Kudabar Moll.  This animal belonged to the British army, and his duty was to carry a cannon on his back.  In this way he became very familiar with artillery.  During a battle, when his cannon was posted on a battery, and was blazing away at the enemy, the good Kudabar was standing, according to custom, a few paces in the rear of the gunners.  But the fire became very hot on that battery, and very soon most of the gunners were shot down, so that there was no one to pass the cartridges from the ammunition wagon to the artillery-men.  Perceiving this, Kudabar, without being ordered, took the cartridges from the wagon, and passed them, one by one, to the gunner.  Very soon, however, there were only three men left, and these, just as they had loaded their cannon for another volley, fell killed or wounded, almost at the same moment.  One of them, who held a lighted match in his hand, called as he fell to the Elephant and handed him the match.  The intelligent Kudabar took the match in his trunk, stepped up to the cannon, and fired it off!

He was then about to apply the match to others, when re-enforcements came up, and his services as an artillery-man were no longer required.

I cannot help thinking, that if that Elephant had been furnished with a pen and ink, he might possibly have written a very good account of the battle.

But few stories are quite as wonderful as that one.  We have no difficulty at all in believing the account of the Elephant who took care of a little child.  He did not wear a cap and apron, as the artist has shown in the picture, but he certainly was a very kind and attentive nurse.  When the child fell down, the Elephant would put his trunk gently around it, and pick it up.  When it got tangled among thorns or vines, the great nurse would disengage it as carefully as any one could have done it; and when it wandered too far, the Elephant would bring it back and make it play within proper limits.  I do not know what would have been the consequence if this child had behaved badly, and the Elephant had thought fit to give it a box on the ear.  But nothing of the kind ever happened, and the child was a great deal safer than it would have been with many ordinary nurses.

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There are so many stories told about the Elephant that I can allude to but few, even if I did not believe that you were familiar with a great many of them.