RIDING A PIG 81 



terrifies me even more than a blind country pig- 

 sticking. 



The truth is, you cannot make comparisons. A 

 nameless friend is right in preferring the home 

 surroundings, the cHmate, the scenery, the long 

 hack home in the cold, and " the warm hearth- 

 stone," when you enjoy tea and bath, and think 

 the day over. 



For myself, whether I am after pig, tiger, bison, 

 or snipe, I think each best at the time. Yet I know 

 in my heart that to me nothing can equal the hunt 

 of a flying boar with, if great luck so will, the thunder 

 of feet behind, and the whole of wide, wild Asia 

 before me to counterbalance the pleasant surround- 

 ings of an English hunt. 



