128 RIFLE AND ROMANCE 



swells the dusky throats of beaters. 



Pops the squib ! bang bangs \ blank cartridge ! 



Rattle empty tins from Baku ! 



Thwack with bamboo, poke with bamboo, 



Hoo! the "dooker" Ha! the " dooker"- 



rout him out, the tusky " dooker " I 



See ! On down-curved wing comes whizzing 

 driven partridge, bush-quail screeching ; 

 wheels scared nightjar ; shrieks the lapwing ; 

 halts the lobbing hare, upsitting, 

 hearkens to the din behind him. 

 Then the bushes, gently shaking, 

 part, and void the motley sounder : 

 lean sows grunting to their hoglets, 

 hoglets hurrying swiftly after, 

 hurry past the prickly arbour 

 Grey-boar's green and shady harbour. 



Grey-boar, on his side extended, 

 hind legs draws up, eyebrow raises, 

 raises up his mighty headpiece, 

 meditates in formidable 

 bristly-whiskered indignation 

 " What a most unseemly hooting ! 

 tins a-rattling, horns a-tooting ! 

 (Hoo? the 'dooker' Ha? the ' dooker ') 

 why, I ask you, such a hurry ? " 

 " Gone ! my swift stampeding sounder ! 

 fled the hare, and flown the partridge ! " 



(Sudden sounds a shriller screaming 

 " Oh ! I see him ! Ah ! I see him.") 



" Really this is too outrageous ! 

 What about a dart among the 

 dusky shins of yelling beaters ? " 



Bangs ! a sudden bomb behind him 

 stinging, reeking, vile saltpetre 

 helps to make his stubborn mind up. 

 Grey-boar surly walks from covert, 

 leaves his enemies a bouquet 

 scarcely that of rose or lily 

 odour of the bristly "dooker" / 



