Sporting Trips of a Subaltern 



got his spear round in time to draw first 

 blood. 



The next day I was lucky enough to get the 

 only two spears that were taken. The first was 

 a fine boar, which I speared, but before I could 

 spear again he took refuge in a thick clump of 

 grass; as there were more horsemen coming 

 up, I galloped straight on to see he didn't 

 sneak out behind. The next sportsman arrived 

 shouting, " Where is he? Where is he?" I 

 was about to explain when piggy took it upon 

 himself by dashing out, rolling the sportsman 

 over and cutting his horse badly. The man fell 

 clear, but the horse fell right on the boar, and 

 before the latter could regain his legs, two of us 

 had him pinned. I was riding a very good horse 

 most of that day, a 14.2 Arab called Peacock, as he 

 was a showy little chestnut with long mane and tail. 

 He was the worst hack I ever rode, always fidget- 

 ing along sideways, crossing his legs and pecking 

 on to his nose, while I bought him after he had 

 pretty well demolished a trap. Strangely enough, 

 though, he took to pig-hunting at once, and would 

 follow a line of beaters as quietly as a lamb, picking 

 his way over the rough ground most carefully, 

 cocking his ears whenever the coolies began to 

 shout, and ready to be off at a pressure of the 

 legs. A child could guide him till he saw the 

 pig, and then he could guide himself. He would 



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