122 REMINISCENCES OF PIG-STICKING. 



nearly knock Morey off his mount. Feeling now rather 

 sick, as he had been speared at least half-a-dozen times, 

 our friend made next for the nearest patch of water 

 where he lay down. On seeing Morey come up he stood 

 up rather out of temper, I should say, and putting his 

 head a little on one side, as if to take aim, down he 

 came charging out of the water. Morey managed to 

 spear him just where the spine mingles with the neck, 

 and poor piggy had just life enough left in him to 

 totter back to the water where he rolled over on his back 

 and died without a groan — died as only a boar can die 

 in silence ! ! ! 



This pig stood 38" and was a remarkably handsome 

 and well-made boar, but had very blunt tushes, and must 

 have been pretty aged. 



After having duly criticized the sport we had, we 

 were just thinking of riding back to the factory, when 

 one of the neighbouring Zemindars — a sporting card, 

 who had heard of our being out — sent his nag, a country- 

 bred mare, for Morey to try, and he also sent along an 

 elephant to help in the beating. Though it was rather 

 late in the day we thought we might just as well have 

 another try before going in. 



Khubber of a very large and fierce boar, and said 

 to be an ugly customer, who was said to have done also 

 a lot of damage of late, was brought to us by some 

 villagers. The place where this fiend was supposed to 

 be was barely a mile or so away, so we made straight 

 for it. 



