CHAPTER XVIII 



GOOD-BYE 



And now, friend, it is time that I bid you " Good- 

 bye." I trust that you will pardon the various 

 imperfections of this book and realize that the 

 shadowy ego of the writer is but a means for trying 

 to tell you of this great Indian sport ; a medium 

 such as a painter might use when trying to paint 

 his picture, all in vain though it be. 



I can only hope your view of the book will be 

 that of my old friend F., he of the tiger. " Well, 

 well," said he, slapping me on the shoulder, "poor 

 old W., so you are writing a book. Never mind, 

 I'll buy a copy." 



For the rest, if you have not " heard the East 

 a-calling," if you have not seen the grey boar die, 

 my one hope is that anything my friends and I have 

 written may urge you to visit the great plains and 

 rocky hills of our wild Indian jungles and partake 

 of their wilder sports. You will never regret it ; 

 days spent with horse and spear live on in the 

 memory, they are not measured by their fleeting 

 hours. 



In after years as you sit, perchance, in some less 

 happy spot smoking your pipe before the fire, the 

 old scenes shall rise again before you. You shall, 

 it may be, take once more the old grey road and 



289 U 



