TI'k.MNC, AI'OUT. 



He was in the act of drawing the weapon from his waist, when a faint shout 

 caused him to turn his head. Looking around, he saw that Mr. Godkin had mounted 

 his horse, and was galloping toward him. 



The native wondered whether, with the aid of his glasses, he had learned what 

 was going on, or whether he wanted assistance in some emergency that had arisen. 



Although the boar had made one demonstration against him, Pongo was not 

 looking for anything of the kind, since his whole purpose seemed to be to find the 

 entrance to his home. The native was still gazing inquiringly at his master, when 

 a snort and prancing of his pony brought his attention back again. 



The hog seemed to have become enraged at his failure to find the opening for 

 which he was looking, and, probably, in some dim way, he associated the horseman 

 with his trouble. Be that as it may, while the latter was looking back, the fierce 

 brute charged upon him like a hurricane. 



When Pongo caught sight of him, he was no more than twenty feet off, and 

 coming at a terrific pace. His small eyes glowed like fire, his jaws were parted 

 and dripping with foam, and, altogether, a more fearful object cannot be pictured. 



The Bushman had no time to use his weapon, which, as I have said, was an 

 awkward one for such an emergency, nor had his nimble pony a chance to wheel to 

 the right or left, nor to turn and flee, as he would have done had his rider discov- 

 ered h ; ft peri 1 a second sooner. 



