HOG HUNTERS' HALL 125 



was so thick that one was Hkely to lose or change 



pig- 



We had an unusual amount of rain for the time 



of year, and this kept the going good. In many 

 of the bahris the grass was smooth and close like 

 an English lawn. To hunt a pig through a succession 

 of these bahris was perhaps the pleasantest of all 

 hunts. Most of them were only about a hundred 

 yards wide and a couple of hundred yards long. 

 The bamboo prevented one galloping straight 

 through, but there was no under cover beneath the 

 mangos. Then there would be a patch of cultiva- 

 tion to the next bahri, and the question was could 

 you or could you not spear before the pig reached 

 it. If you did not you had to nurse him through 

 the next, and across a patch of open grass land, 

 and through or round a village. The villages are 

 ramshackle affairs with matting about 5 feet high 

 used as fences round the gardens. The pig were 

 not at all afraid of them, and would gallop through 

 the matting like a clown jumping through paper 

 hoops. On one occasion two of us were riding a 

 pig up the main street of Durrumgarh. He was 

 just ready for me to spear. I collected my horse, 

 and drove him forward, thinking, " I've got you." 

 But not a bit of it ; the pig jinked sharp to the right 

 through an open door of a house, and forced his 

 way out through the wall. He then turned to bay 

 among some woodstacks in a backyard. I broke 

 my spear in him, and my pal did ditto ; we had to 

 stay and watch him whilst a native ran to the line 

 for fresh spears. Even then we were lucky to kill 

 him without getting a horse cut, as there was no 

 " liberty of manoeuvre " in the backyard and 

 among the woodstacks. Meanwhile a native woman, 



