Term*, Five Dollar* a Year. 
Ten Cent* a Copy. 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY. JULY 8, 1875 
ror emeu ana stream. 
W ow W e Wmt the M ew Senhuul 
Hid Boar. 
i * T^HE fencers have stuff enough on the line for a day 
1 or two, Wul, have’nt they?” 
“Ye9, but they'll want the strainers down from the Long 
Bush by the beginning of next week, they say." 
“Ah, well, as it’s Saturday, and we’re out of dog’s meat, 
we’ll give the bullocks a spell till Monday, boys, and have 
a pig hunt to-day, eh?7 
All this is said at a comfortable up country homestead 
in the Northern Island in New Zealand, and the parties to 
the conversation are Fred Moreton, a stalwart young fel- 
low of eight and twenty, with an unmistakably British 
air and a long, brown, bushy beard and mustache. He is 
part proprietor, having a sleeping partner engaged in busi- 
ness in one of the adjacent towns of the snug little sheep 
run which forms the scene of our narrative, and is, of 
course, magitter domus. Wallace McKay, generally known 
in the district as “Old Wal,’’ though he is some years 
Fred’s junior, Is his factotum und general locum tenon* in 
the boss’ absence; a brawny, brond shouldered, and withal 
simple and good natured soul, as active and untiring as a 
goat amour his native mountains, and the boldest and most 
reckless horseman within a hundred miles; and Fred's 
cousin, Philip, a tall, light-bearded young Saxon, who is 
jjaying them a visit of a few months from the South. 
Breakfast over, after a few minutes spent in looking to 
•the condition of their rifles and sheath knives, (lie hunters 
bid adieu to the fair lady of the house and take their de- 
parture. Nature has been singularly niggardly with New 
Zealand in her distribution of animal life. Not one indi- 
genous quadruped, excepting the lizard, has been found in 
the whole length and breadth of her woods and pastures, 
and her native birds ave scarce in numbers and few in va- 
riety. Ever since Cuptain Cook’s time, however, the wild 
pig has occupied the roughest parts of the country in both 
islands, nnd is now in many places so numerous as to be a 
great annoyance to the settler, both by breaking his wire 
fences and uprooting his grassed lands. The rabbit, too, 
hns increased in many parts with extraordinary rapidity; 
indeed to such an extent that the “squatter” frequently 
keeps a staff of men employed in shooting and trapping 
them. There are parts of both islands where bushmen and 
others live entirely on wild pork and rabbits of their own 
hunting, no man saying them nay on account of trespass 
or damages. One or two small herds of axis and red deer, 
too, which have been turned out in suitable places, are in- 
creasing fast, nnd will in a few years afford noble sport. 
Of indigenous birds, the three or four varieties of wild 
duck are of most interest to the sportsmnu, but they are 
now getting very scarce in many parts. Quail used to 
abound on soino of the plains, but indiscriminate slaughter 
and grass tires have almost extirpated them. Pheasants 
and partridges have, however, been well established 
in both islands, and are making rapid progress. 
In the north the former bird has been regularly shot for 
some years, and the sportsmen of the south have enjoyed 
the same luxury for the last two seasons. Taken as a 
whole, though, New Zealand is singularly bare of game, 
and the sterility and absence of cover which characterize a 
large portion, particularly of the Southern Island, will al- 
most keep it so Our hunters arc attired in the usuul New 
Zealand bush costume— wide-awake hats, with brims in va- 
rious stages of dilapidation; rough woolen “jumpers" 
reaching to the waist; continuations of strong cloth in a 
variety of pattern and cut, and all somewhat the worse 
for wear; light leather gaiters, and strong, heavily nailed 
lace boots. Each carries a sheath knife in his belt, a most 
essential concomitant of bush life; it serves as tobacco 
cutter, dinner carver, and for general incisive purposes, 
including sticking and skinning pigs, sheep, or any other 
Victim. 
“What dogs have we got?" says Phil, who, though a 
stranger to the district, is no new hand in the pursuit of 
tue wild boar. 
Volumn -I, Number 22, 
17 t’liolhoni Hr. (I'llyllall fcijr.) 
“Wal has brought Toby and Darkie, and my oid Help 
makes a third," responds his cousin. “I’d have let Whistle 
conic, but if the old sinner gets after a ’sucker’ there’s no 
hauling him off. I went down into Wainui gulley after 
him the other day, fully half n mile through supplejack 
and lawyer bush that would have tested the powers of a 
Hercules and the patience of a Job. and found that he had 
got a little runt of a thing with a backbone like a John 
Dory; but the old dog sloped when he heard me coming 
and planted himself somewhere handy, and when I was 
away on the spur again I heard him at it in the same place; 
it’s an old dodge of his, that, and I can’t knock it out of 
him." 
“You should try and get one of those bull pups of Tom 
McCarthy’s from Flat Hill,” suggests Wal; "they’re the 
pluckiest brutes I ever saw with a boar. Old Juno, the 
mother, is real grit, and I saw that pup of Aleck Manton’s 
at Waikaraka slick to a good-sized pig the other day in a 
way that astonished us. He can't be more than four 
months old, and many a full grown dog would’nt have 
shown half his pluck. After we had killed the pig we had 
to force his mouth open with a stick before he would let go." 
“I've a horror of anything but collies on a sheep run," 
Interjects Phil; “these Newfoundlands, bull dogs, kanga- 
roo dogs, mastiffs, and the various crosses of them all, 
which have been kept in so many places for wild boar 
hunting, are dangerous brutes, if they once get a taste of 
ovine blood; and as they are’nt kept half worked, the old 
adage coupling his satstnic majesty and the unemployed is 
frequently verified in their case. There is nothing that 
arouses my righteous pastoral wrath so much as to see a 
dog killing sheep. I once butchered in hot blood a favor- 
ite Newfoundland of mine whom I caught in flagrante de- 
licto, and I registered thereupon a solemn vow that I would 
never open myself the way to such a sacrifice again." 
“Ah! I remember,” says Wul, somewhat maliciously, 
“you told us how you did it once before— tied him up to a 
post with your stirrup leather, and slaved his head in with 
a brokcu rail, did’nt you? Made a good quarter of an 
hour’s work of it, if I remember right." 
“Now, don’t rake up any horrid details, Wal; we are’nt 
all of us such impersonations of humanity as to be in a 
position to cast reflections," retorted Phil. “The necessity 
of capital punishment, once established, nothing would have 
given me more satisfaction than to have executed old Ma- 
jor with royal honors, even to have “carved him as a dish 
lit for the gods;" but I knew that I could’nt do it, or even 
have it done in cold blood, so I took whatever means were 
at hand." 
Thus beguiling the l ime with pleasant reminiscences, we 
trudged for a mile along the narrow flat that intervened 
between the sea coast and the ranges. Park-like nnd beau- 
tiful is the scene. Through a rugged rift in the hills tum- 
bles and rushes a limped creek, which opens out on the 
tint ground, and meanders, babbling musically, among the 
trees on its way to the ocean. Isolated specimens of the 
beautiful knrnka, a tree which, for deep, rich verdue and 
for symmetry of form, can scarcely have an equal, dot the 
plain; and beyond, far up the mountain’s rugged sides, 
cling endless varieties of smaller bush and scrub, all re- 
inarkuble for the deep green foliage, which is characteris- 
tic of the New Zealand forests. 
“Here we are at the landing place," said Phil, as the 
party debouched on a cosy little bay, well sheltered from 
the southerly swell by a distaut reef, with here aud there a 
towering citadel of rock, over which the surf was breaking 
with the noise and the spray of a hundred Niagaras. 
“Allan, the shepherd, told me that he saw the tracks of 
some boomers on the beach here a day or two ago; they 
must have gone across to that flax patch at the foot of the 
“Sugar-loaf.” 
“If they crossed from this side there will be a good 
chance of some of them having come from Waikikino," 
9uys Fred reflectively. "I know the moors there have 
some whacking big barronos; but I’vo told them often 
enough that I shall exercise the right of slaughtering any- 
thing that is found this side the station; so its their own 
A look out." 
Leaving the bay, the party trends again toward the 
ranges, and another mile brings them under the Sugar-loaf, 
wl>o»e precipitous sides clothed with wanuka and cotton- 
wood scrub to within a few hundred yards of the summit, 
throw that pinnacle into a conspicuous relief, strongly sug- 
gestive of a jolly friar’s cranium with an unusual promi- 
nent development of the orgau of venerution. From the 
flat to the base of the hill the ground rises for some few 
hundred yards in gradual undulations, thickly covered 
with flax four or five feet high, und beyond, further ulong 
the flat, is the course of another creek issuing from the dis- 
tant side of the hill, its banks dotted with scattered timber 
which thickens into close bush where the stream debouches 
on the plain. Wild boar hunting without dogs that can be 
relied on for holding your quarry till he receives his coup 
de grace, and iu ground where you cannot see a yard ahead 
of you, except in an occasional clearing, is somewhat pre- 
carious work. Collie dogs will seldom do more than bring 
the beast to bay, and bark ut him from the safe distance of 
a few yards; when an opportunity occurs of giving him a 
sly nip behind, they will avail themselves of it, with the 
result usually of provokiug a savage charge, and bringing 
the enemy to bay again with his quarters unussuilubly en- 
sconced in a flax hush. Woe to the pedestrian who is 
caught by the infuriated animal in this onset! He is to u 
certainty tripped up. aud in all probability favored with a 
severe rip in the limbs or body from the formidable circu- 
lar tusks of his assailant. 
“There ought to be something in this flax," says Wal, 
who is armed with an extemporized boar spear, construct- 
ed out of a stout manuka pole of about the dimensions of 
a "weaver’s beam,” aud a shear blade firmly lushed at the 
end of it. Having nearly shutoff his left hand some years 
previously by the bursting of a gun barrel— Wul always 
swears that there was only one charge in it— this stalwart 
Nimrod has foresworn firearms ever since, and slauds by 
mainly for the poet mortem manipulation of the quarry. 
“St! St!" “hold ’em boys!” “rouse ’em out, lads," exhort 
our hunters, as men and dogs plunge into the flax, nnd ure 
almost, lost to view. The latter are presently heard crash- 
ing away in a body towards the hill, and the men press on 
after them, their eyes and ears intent, and their rifles ready 
for instant use. 
“They’re on something," shouts Fred, as half a dozen 
short, sharp yelps are heard ahead. "Come on, boys, 
they’ll have him bailed up by' the time we get there.” But 
the piercing squeals that ring through the air next minute 
tell the disappointed huntsmen that it is an ignoble victim 
which has fullen into their bauds. 
Not worth his salt,” ejaculates Phil, to whose practiced 
ear the sound is as indicative of the value of the quarry ds 
if it was hanging up beforo him. Another hundred yards 
brings them to two of the dogs, with whom the Orpheus 
of the woods is making a very lame light, for not boiug 
formidable enough to inspire much terror, the unhappy 
brute i9 not allowed to avail himself for any length of time 
of the friendly shelter offered by the flax. Walllc McKay 
throws down his staff, and watching his opportunity, 
rushes in and seizes the victim by a hind leg. A scientific 
jerk and his equilibrium is gone, his captor’s foot is on his 
neck, and the others closiug round aud lending their aid, 
his life blood soon "stains the heather." He turns out to be 
a quarter grown sow, in poor condition, and only worth 
further attention iu the event of an unlucky day’s sport. 
"There are more of them about," says Fred, oracularly. 
I saw some tracks that don't fit this cat of a thing, as I 
came up, and old Toby was’ut on this scent ut all, I think.” 
The other dogs have disappeared, too, aud the men stand 
and listen for indications while they recover their wind 
and take a modest pull at Fred’s well known and apprecia- 
ted flask of whisky. 
‘That’s a very fair sample of liquor for New Zealand 
manufacture,” remarks Phil, with an affectionate glance at 
the flask. “I’ve always stuck up for the Dunedin whis- 
ky, and maintained that age is all it wauts; but the Scotch- 
men down there have an awful prejudice against it, though 
they can’t tell you why. You mark my word, it will cut 
out the imported article yet," 
