132 A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



CHAP. IX. 



" The forest is wild, but wilder by far 

 My friends who engage in the sylvan war. 

 No management, method, nor cunning, nor craft, 

 The wolf and the wild boar must think us all daft. 

 As Irishmen say — by the ' breath of all powers ' — 

 The limier's behind his boar, twenty-four hours ! " 



Berkeley. 



The Saturday morning, on which we were to join 

 MM. Lucas and E. Brunier in pursuit of the wild 

 boar, said to be in that part of the forest, and very 

 ** wickedly " inclined, dawned with a wildish sky and 

 a fitful wind ; but, hoping that it would continue at 

 least dry, we finished our breakfast, and started in 

 the open carriage behind the powerful white mare. 

 After a pleasant drive, my friend M. d'Anchald and 

 myself talking over old times when he used to be in 

 England, we arrived at one of those queer little places 

 in France doing duty for a village inn, and found 

 there assembled several gentlemen, in considerable 

 excitement, for the wicked old solitaire was said to 

 have been safely harboured by the huntsman and his 



