Pig-Sticking 17 



thinking how much it reminded one of drawing for 

 an outlying fox at home. 



One of the native officers* horses bucked a little 

 soon after we had started, and his rider, whose saddle 

 was apparently slippery, and whose seat was obviously 

 insecure, took a heavy fall. His turban flew off, 

 and his long black Sikh hair came tumbling down ; 

 however, the smart aide-de-camp hastily coiled it up 

 again, wound his turban once more round his head, 

 and gingerly remounted. 



Arrived at the first cover, a long line was formed, 

 directed by a head shikari on a pony, with several 

 assistant shikaris at different points. The great grey 

 elephants, caparisoned in scarlet and gold, crashed 

 slowly through the tall yellow grass in the centre ; 

 on either side they were flanked by the dark natives 

 in their white turbans and waistcloths, and here and 

 there a mounted sowar in Kapurthalah uniform ; 

 slowly and silently, except for beating and tapping 

 with sticks, the line moved through the jungle, a 

 long, pointed crescent of colour. Around, as far as 

 the eye could reach, lay the flat, cultivated stretches 

 of plain, and above us a sky without a cloud. The 

 riders were divided into small parties, and rode imme- 

 diately in the rear of the line ; in every party one 

 experienced man gave the word " Ride " before 

 anybody thought of starting after a pig. 



It was too early to have grown hot, and we paced 

 along, full of vigour and joyous motion, devouring 

 the jungle with our eyes, and alive to the slightest 



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