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THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 

 of our preoccupation and has quietly 

 slipped away. In a few seconds we 

 are on the knoll, and thence we see 

 our friend lobbing away across the 

 plain (as Mr. Cruickshank used so 

 expressively to describe it), '' like a 

 carpet-bag tumbling along end over 

 end." For a second time we have a 

 glorious but an all too short burst in 

 the open, and again Naylor forges 

 well ahead of me. However, the 

 pig is in no humour to give us a 

 gallop ; when he finds that we are 

 overtaking him, he stiffens his stride, 

 and, dodging in his course for a 

 moment or two, he suddenly turns 

 and comes at Naylor '' like a thousand 

 of bricks," " with murder in his eye." 

 But he has not reckoned on the 

 sharpened spear, and as he bounds 

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