Andalucia and its Big Game 71 
sand to cover) I ran in. Arriving at the covert and already 
close up to the music, suddenly the ‘ bay” broke, and I felt the 
bitter annoyance of being twenty seconds too slow. I had 
entered by a narrow game-path, and was still hurrying up this 
when I met the flying boar face to face. By chance he had 
selected the same track for his retreat! As we both were 
moving, and certainly not six yards apart, there was barely 
ROOM FOR TWO 
time to pull off the carbine in the boar’s face and throw myself 
back against the wall of matted jungle on my left. Next 
moment the grizzly head and curving ivories flashed past within 
six inches of my nose! The spring he had given carried the 
boar a yard past me, and there he stopped, stern-on, champing 
and grunting, both tushes visible—I could see them in horrid 
projection, on either side of the snout! I had brought the 
empty carbine to the “carry,” so as to use it hayonet-wise, 
to ward the brute off my legs; but he remained stolidly where 
