178 ORGANIZING A HUNT. 



caries. They retire every evening into a trunk large 

 enough to contain about thirty of them. There they 

 huddle together, the snout of one resting on the hind- 

 quarter of another, and the last-comer keeping guard. 



The Texan planters dread the peccaries, and have 

 vowed against them a deadly hatred, not only on account 

 of the ravages they commit in their cultivated fields, and 

 the way in which they slaughter their dogs and muti- 

 late their horses, but also on account of the ridiculous 

 position in which an encounter with peccaries frequently 

 places them, compelling them either to take to their heels 

 helter-skelter, or to seek safety ignominiously up the 

 nearest tree ; the planters, I say, seize all the oppor- 

 tunities offered to them of destroying these dangerous 

 parasites. As soon as one of them discovers the trunk 

 of a tree which appears to be frequented by his enemies, 

 he organizes a hunt of the most amusing though dan- 

 gerous description. To ensure its success, heavy rain, or, 

 at all events, a thick fog, is necessary ; for, as a rule, 

 peccaries do not quit their asylum in bad weather. Half 

 an hour before daybreak, the hunter, armed with a car- 

 bine and numerous cartridges, lies in ambush opposite 

 the entrance of their customary retreat. There, concealed 

 from every eye, he waits until there is light enough to 

 enable him to fire. The moment he can discern the 

 piercing eyes of the peccary posted as sentinel, in whose 

 rear the entire herd lies asleep, he shoulders his gun, 

 takes careful aim, and lets go the trigger. The shot 

 takes effect. The peccary springs from the tree, and 

 sinks on the ground in the convulsions of death. 



The hunter has scarcely time to reload his piece before 



