My dear father Aristos, who taught me many canny stratagems for getting through the battle of life, used to say: "Little by little does the task." He explained that when a problem looks so big as to be overwhelming, one should break it down into smaller problems and solve them one by one. In my tent I sat and thought about my elephant problem. I broke it down into several parts, thus:
First, there were the questions of what route I should follow and how long the journey would take. For this, I needed to know how long the routes were and how fast a party with an elephant could travel. The people to help me in this matter were the Greek surveyors of Alexander's technical staff, who measured each day's march and entered the distances on their maps.
Second, I could not get the monster over this route by myself. I knew not how to drive an elephant, let alone control one if it became fractious. Therefore, I should have to take some Indian elephant men.
Third, in the deserts of Persia the elephant could not live off the land. There must needs be enough well-mounted men to scour the countryside for fodder. In turn, these men would need cooks, grooms, and other servants if they were to do their special tasks ably. Such a crowd of civilians would need more soldiers to guard them. By the time I finished, I was commanding a full troop of cavalry, sixty or seventy men, with an equal number of servants, interpreters, a physician, and a veterinarian. I even included a soothsayer. In my younger days I believed strongly in omens and portents. At the time of which I write, I had become aware that many, like those which Aristandros staged, were bits of simple trickery, but I had not yet come to the point of ignoring auguries and presages altogether. There might be something to them, and it were well to be on the safe side.
Fourth, this little army would need food and supplies. The Macedonian army got its food partly from local governors and allied rulers and partly from sutlers, who bought food in the neighborhood and sold it again to the soldiers. In hostile country we foraged, meaning that we stole everything edible within leagues of our line of march. But, as the elephant party's route would lie through Alexander's domains, we could not forage amongst supposedly friendly people. I would, therefore, hire a sutler on contract to procure food on a fixed wage instead of on the profit he could wring from the soldiers.
Fifth, as we should have to buy our food as we went, it behooved me to make sure we went off with plenty of money besides our advance pay. This in turn meant a careful reckoning of times and distances.
The first people to see, then, were those who could advise me on routes and rates of travel. I rose and limped over to the tents where the Greek technicians lived.
Polykleitos greeted me cordially and fetched Baiton, the surveyor. They spread out their maps.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Here." Polykleitos showed a dot beside the wriggly line that stood for the Hydaspes, with the name "Nikaia" lettered near it. "This direction is north, this west, and so on. Here is Peukala. From Peukala you will ascend the Kophen by the same route you followed hither, through Paktuika to Kaboura—"
Baiton interrupted: "You'll need guides and interpreters through Gandaria. You can obtain them at Peukala."
Polykleitos continued: "At Kaboura, turn southwards to Gazaka and Kandacha; thence west to Phrada. You went over that route with the army on its way to Baktria. Do you think you can find your way back?"
"That was three and a half years ago," I said. "I misdoubt I shall recognize some places, but it were well to hire guides. What route shall we follow from Phrada?"
Polykleitos said: "You could retrace the king's route back, through Parthia and Hyrkania. But it might be shorter to proceed southwest from Phrada through Karmania into Persia. There's a post road through the Waterless Plain."
"A blithe-sounding place, that," I said.
"Yes indeed; you'll traverse some difficult desert. But, on the other hand, you wouldn't wish winter to overtake you in the northern mountains."
"How shall we manage for water in the desert?" I said. "I suppose you'll hire camels to transport water. Baiton, could you estimate the quantity of water an elephant consumes each day?"
"I have no idea," said Baiton. "How should I?"
"Even approximately?"
"No. I suppose, though, we could ascertain by watering the elephant out of a bucket of known capacity for a fixed period. I'll see what I can do."
Polykleitos continued: "Once you reach Persepolis, the remainder should be smooth sailing."
"Speaking of sailing," I said, "whence shall I sail? Phoenicia, Ionia, Egypt, or what?"
Polykleitos shifted to another map that showed the eastern Mediterranean Sea and Hellas. He frowned over it and said: "Phoenicia is your next objective. From Sousa you must detour around to the north to avoid the Arabian desert." He swept his finger in an arc over the map.
"What shall I do for a ship?"
Polykleitos pondered. "Menes, governor of Syria, administers all maritime transportation from Phoenicia to the West. He might be in Damascus or in Tarsos or in some Phoenician port. Perhaps it were expedient to cut west from Sousa and inquire for him at the governmental offices in Babylon. It wouldn't do to plod all the way to Phoenicia to find that Menes was elsewhere. Procure a letter from Eumenes directing Menes to send you to Hellas by sea."
"How far can I march each day?" I asked.
Baiton said: "That depends. In Gandaria, inferior roads and steep grades will retard you, but elsewhere you can maintain a good speed."
"What's a good speed? Alone, I can ride two hundred and fifty furlongs a day without pressing, but with the elephant and its escort?"
Baiton said: "Persian postmen ride over three hundred furlongs a day, but they change horses at each stage. A party of horsemen and mule carts and an elephant would do well to attain half that distance. Also, we must allow stops at the larger towns to repair your equipment and rest your people and animals. Let me draw you up an itinerary as far as Babylon. How soon will you depart?"
"As soon as my cursed leg is better and I can gather the people and things. Let's say in another ten days."
"I'll have it for you tomorrow," he said.
Although he seemed willing, Baiton did not have my itinerary ready next day, nor yet the day after that. For three days I killed time. I moved from sick quarters back to my own tent and passed my time in gaming and reading. The Indians and Thracians danced and sang to celebrate events in their religious calendars.
The rain poured down. When it stopped, I watched my troop exercising under Gration's command. They maneuvered at a gallop and threw javelins at a shield hung from a tree. Alexander tried an experiment by making them carry the little leather bucklers of the heavy infantry. In those days Hellenic cavalry seldom bore shields, because the regular footman's shield is too heavy and leaves the rider but one hand for both reins and weapon. When King Philip adopted, for Macedonian infantry, the eight-cubit pike, which needs both hands, he devised this small shield that can be pushed up on the left arm to free the hand. His son had continued these experiments.
I skimmed through Eriguios' books to see if they had aught to teach me. Alas! None said a word about elephants, because no elephant had yet been seen in Hellas.
Xenophon, however, had a thought about horses that could be applied, meseemed, to other beasts. That is, if one would have a horse like something, one must see to it that this thing is always associated with the animal's eating and drinking. If I were to be with the elephant for months, the risks of the journey were deadly enough without having the beast watching ever and aye for a chance to kill me.
Now, India abounds in tasty melons. I sought out a sutler, a Syrian named Elisas, and bought a melon from him. I carried this melon over to the elephant lines, found Mahankal, and gave it to him. While the keeper looked on suspiciously, Mahankal took the melon in his trunk, stuffed it into his mouth, and crunched it up.