Here and There 221 



a friend single out the big boar, and try for the 

 first spear. If the boar is a good one, he will go 

 a splitting pace for perhaps a couple of miles, and 

 if he finds he can't escape, will stop all at once, 

 turn, and charge down like lightning, with a fierce 

 grunt, upon one of the two. Let it be our sports- 

 man. He may perhaps stop the brute's charge, but 

 he won't kill him, and then, when he turns and 

 tries for the second spear, the really dangerous one, 

 he will see what a devil a wounded boar is. He 

 won't think much of fox-hunting after he has 

 once succeded in despatching the more formidable 

 animal. 



If the mere riding at the raspers and the brooks, 

 and the chances of a break-neck tumble are his 

 delight, he will find an agreeable variety in hog- 

 hunting, and as many chances of maiming himself 

 as he can in the pursuit of the fox, with the 

 additional zest of perhaps coming across a tiger, 

 or finding himself in the middle of a herd of wild 

 buffaloes, by whom both his horse and himself 

 may be ripped up. It requires firm nerves, a 

 steady hand, a correct eye, and presence of mind 

 to spear a good boar properly. 



The boar is a cunning, knowing, fierce, revenge- 

 ful brute, as the following anecdote will to some 

 extent prove. An officer of the regiment we 

 relieved, one day singled out a boar from a sounder 

 that came through cantonments, to the upper part 

 of which he ran him. The bank there shelves 

 down and joins a spit of sand that runs out into 

 the river. The officer was close on the hog, but 

 not close enough to plant the spear. The two 

 went down the bank, but where it and the sand 

 joined there was a bit of quick-sand, and the 

 horse beginning to flounder in it, the officer, as a 



