THROUGH THE MALAY JUNGLE 35 



including the police force, was turned out to beat pig 

 for us, perhaps, for the sake of the uninitiated, I 

 should say, to drive wild boar. While we stood at 

 short distances apart, on a jungle path, the natives 

 formed in a long line and came down a hillside yell- 

 ing at the top of their lungs, beating tin pans and 

 setting off fire-crackers, making indeed a pande- 

 monium before which the heart of the most intrepid 

 boar might well have quailed. The sportsman 

 stands in a little clearing, his gun cocked and he 

 well on the alert; the din approaches, there is a 

 rustle in the bushes, and what appears to be a 

 black torpedo shoots like a thunderbolt across the 

 path. For the first few times the hunter then grad- 

 ually recovers his breath and uncocks his still un- 

 discharged rifle, the boar being by this time sev- 

 eral miles away and still going strong. Occasionally 

 the animal, happening to emerge exactly where the 

 expectant sportsman is standing, makes a bolt 

 between his legs, and the hunter, being unable to 

 shoot accurately while turning a somersault in the 

 air, thus also loses his game. However, with a little 

 experience, he learns to judge where the boar will 

 appear, and to catch him in midair as he springs 

 across the path. 



While we were shooting, the Resident of the neigh- 

 boring district happened to call at Janing, and not 



