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 Usually a herd marches to the feeding ground unmolested. There they pull the grass up by the roots, beat the earth off on their front legs, give the bundles neat twists, and poke them back into their mouths. They pull up bushes and break off high leafy branches. They even uproot small trees, prying with the tusks and pulling with the trunks. Cocoanuts are cracked and shelled by rolling underfoot. They are fond of palm nuts, sugar cane and yams, a kind of sweet potatoes. In captivity elephants are fed on hay and carrots, but they just love peanuts, popcorn and candy. A herd of one hundred wild elephants will eat ten tons of food a day.

About sunrise the whole herd takes a bath. They go on a shuffling run to the nearest "ole swimmin'" hole. Into the water they go up to their eyes. They frolic like so many school boys, shouting at the tops of their—trumpets, slapping and splashing water over each other. The babies ride on their mother's backs, slide off and learn to swim. Often a herd plays in the water for an hour. Before coming out they suck up as much as ten gallons of water each, through the hollow trunks and stow it away in water pockets in their stomachs. Later in the day, when they want a drink or a shower bath, they bring this water up and use it. The camel seems to be the only other animal that has storage tanks inside for water.

Old hunters in Africa and India say members of a herd look alike as do members of a human family. Some herds are made up of animals that are large and strong and bright minded. In other herds the animals are smaller, weaker and more stupid. In East India the natives speak of elephants as low caste and high caste, and say there is as much difference as there is between breeds of dogs and horses. And no hunter will go after a "rogue" elephant. A "rogue" is a tramp elephant. For some reason he has left his herd, or been driven out. No other herd will admit him, so he turns sour and becomes very dangerous, fighting every living thing he meets, and destroying what he cannot eat.

Elephants hate flies. The flies and stinging insects of hot countries are large and thick and tough as is the elephant's hide they manage to get into the folds and creases and sting him. He fights his tormentors with shower and dust baths and fly brushes. When they drive him frantic he rushes into the water to wash them off. There he finds a friend. It is the long-legged water crane who stands on the elephant's back and picks out the flies to eat. Some