244 A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



lie had rushed up and caught the little boar in time 

 to save his life^ though wounded with the shot from 

 Ludovic's cartridge, and much bitten by the hounds. 

 Having caught the marcassin, he fired off his gun as 

 a signal to bring us all together, the French not 

 having, that I could ever hear, any holloa like the 

 English " who-whoop " to proclaim the death of the 

 hunted animal. When I saw this pretty little, but 

 beautifully savage-looking marcassin, who could not 

 have been more than five months old, supposing him 

 to have been born in May, and heard from Jules, 

 who saw it, that he kept up to the last the best run- 

 ning fight possible against his eight or nine assailants, 

 I was indeed astonished ! He was not higher than 

 a fox, and in beautiful condition for running, his coat 

 so healthful and his frame full of young and growing 

 vigour. They had tied up his mouth with a whip- 

 thong, and his hind and fore feet also together, so 

 that he lay on the ground panting in terrible distress, 

 but with an eye of the wildest fury. I knelt down 

 by the little warrior, when, as he saw my hand ap- 

 proach his face, his eyes flashed fire ; but on feeling 

 that, instead of hurting him, I smoothed the bristles 

 on his cheek and forehead, the poor little eye changed 

 in its. expression, and seemed almost to indicate 

 thankfulness. 



" Save his life, won't you ?" I cried ; " he deserves 



