The heavy, awkward, and apparently slow, gait of the camel, generally induces to a belief that its rate of travelling is disadvantageous, inasmuch as it may denote inability to keeping up with the generality of elephants. This, however, is a great mistake, for it is very common to see the latter, when in the least over-burthened, or when the weather is hot, or the road sandy, very late in arriving at their destination; whereas, the camel, under an appropriate load, will move on at a regular pace, generally making a distance of seven feet, as I have repeatedly ascertained, from the centre of that spot whence it lifts a foot, to where it again sets it down: few elephants do so much; they walk quicker, but their strides are rarely so extensive.
The propensity of a camel to stale, so soon as eased of his burthen, renders it indispensably necessary to drive him to a distance so soon as the tent is off his back; otherwise, the urinous stench attached to the spot would render it very unpleasant, or, rather, insupportable. The native chemists extract large quantities of ammonia from those stands where camels have been kept for many weeks.
The greatest inconvenience attached to a camel is his utter inability to swim across a river, such as any other animal would consider no impediment. It is true, that, occasionally, camels may have been seen to swim for a few yards, but, in general, they turn upon the side, and, unless instantly rescued, would infallibly be drowned. Perhaps this arises from the general roundness of their bodies, which are very easily acted upon by the super-incumbent weight of the neck and head, that become levers, not sufficiently opposed by their almost fleshless limbs. Some camels enter with readiness into ferry-boats, even of the rudest construction, while others require to be urged by the display of fire in their rear, or even by the actual cautery! When once on board, they are generally quiet, but do not seem to entertain such a dread of their insulated situation as horses do.
In this particular, the elephant has a most decided superiority: he enters the water with alacrity, and, guided by the _mohout_, who preserves his seat on the animal’s neck, until the latter may, by way of frolic, descend to walk on the bottom, keeping, at the same time, the end of his proboscis above water, makes his way to the opposite bank, though perhaps a mile distant. If there be occasional shallows, whereon he can refresh himself, two or three miles are passed with equal facility.