Foam—A Razor-Backed Hog 
her old-time playmate face his fate. The Boar’s 
crest arose, the battle light came in his eyes, 
the “chop, chop” of his weapons sounded; the age- 
long, deep instinctive hatred of the reptile came 
surging up in his little soul, and the battle fire was 
kindled there, with the courage that never flinches- 
Have you heard the short chopping roar that 
tumbles from the chest of a boar on battle bent— 
a warcry that well may strike terror into foemen 
who know the prowess that is there to back its 
promise? Yes, even when it comes from the half- 
grown throat of a youngster, with mere thorns for 
tusks. 
In three short raucous coughs that warcry came, 
and the Boar drew near. His golden mane stood 
up and gave him double size. His twinkling eyes 
shone like dull opals as he measured up his foe. 
He was a little puzzled by the white garments, but 
edging around for a better footing, he came be- 
tween the reptile and the stream, and thus, unwit- 
tingly, he ended every chance of its escape. 
No mother but Mother Nature taught him 1 
moves. Yet she was a perfect teacher. Noth 
can elude the Rattler’s strike. It baffles the e 
lightning is not swifter. Its poison is death to 
small creatures when absorbed, and absorbe 
there are in every creature, all over its body, exce 
44 
MO. 
» Aoi 
ae bye 
