Pig-Sticking 25 



The pluck of the bull-dog does not beat 

 The pluck of the gallant boar. 



He was magnificent. Furious with rage, again and 

 again he literally hurled himself upon the spears in 

 his mad longing to get at S. and G., till at last he 

 died, facing his foes splendid animal ! It was quite 

 grievous to see him lying dead. He was thirty-eight 

 and a half inches high at the withers, and his tushes 

 measured eight and a half inches. He was one mass 

 of thew and sinew, and weighed three hundred pounds. 

 Half a dozen beaters slung his mighty carcase on a 

 pole, and took him home to divide his flesh amongst 

 them. His tushes fell to G., first spear, which 

 should by rights have fallen to M., whom the 

 sight of a fresh horse seemed quite to have revived. 

 We called up the elephant with the drink box to 

 slake that best of all thirsts the pig-stickers' thirst. 

 M.'s game little Arab had had a bad fall and was 

 pretty well done, but he had been going fast enough, 

 when the pig charged them, to avoid his being seriously 

 damaged ; he was only ripped in two places. She 

 herself insisted on going on. " Rest! " she said, some- 

 what boastfully, " I shall have all eternity to rest in." 



The next piece of cover we drew was thick, and the 

 line of beaters advanced noisily with drums, tom-toms, 

 sticks, and shouting. 



On they came, of every race a mingled swarm, 

 Far rung the groves, and gleamed the yellow corn, 

 With tom-tom, club, and naked arm. 



