RETURN TO TIFLIS. 317 



behind, while the deep voices of Shirka and his mates 

 urge them on to still more desperate endeavour. 

 Each gunner, who up till now has been but half 

 animate, plunges recklessly through the rending 

 thorns to gain some point at which to turn the 

 chase or make that shot which shall render him the 

 after-dinner hero of the day. And now from the deep 

 baying and the cessation of the crashing amongst 

 the scrub, we judge that Shirka and his friends have 

 collared the quarry in the thick thorn yonder ; so 

 thick that the light can barely penetrate, and so 

 viciously tenacious and spiteful as to give the in- 

 vading sportsman an idea of personal malice. From 

 a point of vantage we at last get a glimpse of the 

 fray. There are seven small pigs, and on the flanks 

 of each a dog is hanging, while the great yellow 

 dog Shirka and another are struggling silently with 

 the old sow in the middle of a small pond of black 

 mud and water. But she is too strong for them : we 

 dare not, however, help with our rifles, and cannot 

 get to close quarters in time with our knives ; so 

 one by one the little squeakers wriggle themselves 

 away, and the old mother and her litter, after 

 another rapid burst, get clean off, and leave us all 

 lamenting. Had the pigs been of larger growth the 

 dogs would in all probability have concentrated 

 their attentions more upon one object, and so our 

 chase might have had a happier issue. 



As it was we pursued our way in crestfallen 



