THE MEERUT TENT CLUB 101 



I must now try to give you an example of our 

 more usual hunting " on the line." 



We are camped in February at Kulpur in a 

 mango bagh, low down in the Kadir on the edge 

 of Jharhina JheeL There has been heavy rain the 

 day before, so we are not astonished on waking to 

 find ourselves enveloped in a cold clinging white 

 mist that make a toilet in the open none too 

 pleasant. However, breakfast and a blazing fire 

 in the tent enable us to face the delay necessary 

 before the fog can lift. At last, at about 8.30, 

 we can dimly see the red orange-like sun trying to 

 come out, so we send on our horses and the line, 

 while we give ourselves one final warming at the 

 fire before starting. 



Our way lies for a couple of miles over an open 

 maidan which holds a few scattered sugar-cane 

 fields. At one of these fields we find the line — an 

 unexpected halt, for our rendezvous is another 

 mile farther on. Puran has seen a sounder cross in 

 the mist and disappear into the crop. We beat 

 it at once, but though the sounder breaks no 

 rideable boar at first appears. While we are 

 resuming our road there is a sudden hooroosh from 

 the rear of the field, and at once some eight spears 

 can be seen in hot pursuit of a small and disreput- 

 able hog, while our master, with many expressions 

 of disgust, surveys the scene with Napoleonic dis- 

 favour. The wretched hog, though he runs and 

 jinks and fights for all he is worth, has of course 

 no chance and is quickly slain. The field then, 

 like naughty boys, gather to hear the winged words 

 of the master, " mobbing — disgraceful — murder," 

 and the like. Having been on a slow horse myself, 

 and never in the hunt, I venture to plead that I was 



