A STRANGE BEAST. 173 



he finally stopped with his last barrel. Next came 

 a venerable vlakke-vark {Phacochcerus Africanus], 

 sometimes called warts hog, which instantly got 

 greeted with both barrels, either of which, I believe, 

 should have stopped him ; but no, nothing of- the 

 kind. These old boars have as much vitality in 

 them as the proverbial cat with nine lives. From 

 the waddle in his gait I knew he would not travel 

 far ; still, he might require a lot of shooting before 

 he made pork. The beaters were by this time almost 

 out of covert, and I had already risen from my post 

 to descend into the hollow, when out came a rum 

 one the strangest-looking beast in figure and action 

 that mortal man ever looked at. But for its solidity 

 and heaviness of carcase it might almost be said to 

 trundle along like a hoop, deviating neither to the right 

 nor the left, but going steadily straight on end, with that 

 persistent air that would, doubtless, take it through a 

 barn cloor, or any similar obstacle that should be in 

 its way. The right barrel hit it hard, the left one 

 did ditto, and still the brute went forward with an air 

 of " what's the odds as long as you are happy ? " My 

 companion, who, in the meantime, had approached, 

 took a shot at short range, and the uncouth brute 



