HUNTING ALONE 87 



spear, for my horse (a cur who later broke his leg) 

 shied away. The boar remained still, a dark mass 

 in the crop. The idea of fighting this hog on foot 

 was repugnant to me. I got my horse up with some 

 persuasion, but I found the pig stone dead ; the 

 spear had broken his spine. He had a game leg, 

 and I give his photo. 



Some years ago I had a hunt of the Meerut Tent 

 Club all to myself. I had advertised the meet, 

 sent out camp, and made all arrangements. Two 

 or three spears failed me at the last, so, sooner than 

 disappoint the shikaries, I went alone, and lived in 

 considerable luxury with big tent, ice, and the full 

 staff. This comfort was the more welcome as it 

 was the hottest season of the year. 



On starting the first day in thick jhow I had a 

 coolie badly ripped by a boar before we had been 

 going two minutes. After doctoring this man, I 

 spent the rest of the day in fruitlessly riding many 

 pig, all of whom were too good for me in the heavy 

 jhow. I stubbed one horse, and got back to camp 

 at noon content, but black from the burnt jhow, 

 with various bits of skin chipped off by the boughs, 

 and with my other three horses all tired out. 



The next morning I beat a patch of grass about 

 half a mile long with an awkward winding nullah 

 running through the middle of it. We soon put 

 up a good boar, and I speared him heavily in a 

 thick patch on the edge of the nullah, which was 

 quite dry. He then got up the bank and stood 

 under a low babul tree with overspreading branches. 

 I waited watching until in a short time the 

 shikaries on their camels came up with spare spears. 

 I then rode on to the boar, trying to entice him to 



