THE SPORTSMAN IN FRANCE. 17 



midable to look at, and, although unable 

 to run, she was good at close quarters 

 against any antagonist. 



I ran to my tree for my reserve gun — 

 one of Westley Richards's — which I had 

 lent my friend the Marquis on a former 

 occasion, and flew to the rescue of the 

 pugnacious Belcher. He had placed him- 

 self rather awkwardly, at least for my 

 purpose, for, in the position he had taken 

 up, I was fearful of hitting him as well 

 as the old sow. After some little dodging, 

 I seized a favourable opportunity, and 

 shot her through the body. 



My garde de chasse then attacked the 

 foe in the rear with a hatchet, and, after 

 several well-directed chops on the peri- 

 cranium, the savage beast was done for. 

 The garde de chasse then proceeded to 

 persuade Belcher, a la mode Anglaise, to 

 let go his hold — I assisted also, and was 

 squeezing his throat with as strong a 



