Of all the animals in India killed by me-and these are the tiger, wild elephant, buffalo, bison, bear, panther, leopard, and wild hog, in short, all of the genus ferox inhabiting those splendid forests— not one has ever made good his charge against the deadly bullets of my heavy rifles, or against the spear, save the wild boar and a panther: they have all been cut down, killed, or turned.

The occasion on which I was nearly disposed of summarily by a boar, was as follows:

In the month of January, 1851, I was out hoghunting at a village some ten miles from Hingolee, in the Deccan, and beating the sugar-cane at daylight without success. A villager came up to me and said, “What are you beating the cane for? If you want to see a hog, come with me, I'll show you one." Falling at the time to the rear of my horse, he whispered to a native officer of the cavalry regiment I then commanded, "The sahib won't be able to kill him, he is such a monster, we are afraid to go near the place where he lives." My first impression was that he was the owner of the sugar-cane, and wished to allure us away from it; however, I promised him a present if he would show us his large friend. On this he gaily led the way, until, coming over the brow of a hill about half a mile from the cane, he stopped dead, and pointed to an object in a dhall field below us, saying, "There he is." In the mist of the morning this appeared to me like a large blue rock,

much too large for a hog; however, the object moved, or rather got up, and there was no mistaking it.

About a hundred and twenty yards on the other side of him was a deep corrie, or fissure in the hills, thickly wooded: this evidently was his stronghold, and if he chose to make his rush for it there was no chance of being able to intercept and spear him. Thinking it possible that he might not run, but fight at once, I started to gallop round the field and place myself between the boar and his stronghold. The native officer with me was a very good rider, a man well known for his courage, and for being one of the best spearsmen and horsemen in the Nizam's cavalry: he was mounted on a good Arab horse. I was on an imported Arab mare; she having been sent by the Pacha of Egypt to the Nawab of the Carnatic, and sold at auction at Madras, whence I had procured her. It was about the first time I had ridden her hunting.

We galloped round, and stood behind the hedge of the field, waiting for the beaters to come up, and if possible to drive the big fellow away from the hill. Standing, as I was, behind a hedge considerably higher than my mare's head, I did not see the boar. The duffadar, who was some thirty yards to my left, but looking over a lower part of the hedge, shouted out "Look out! here he comes." The mare was standing still, and I had but just time

to drop my spear-point, which caught the boar in his rise the blade was buried in his withers. The beautiful mare, from her standing position, cleared with one bound the boar, spear and all, as this was carried out of my hand; then, suddenly turning, was in a moment in her stride after the hog. The latter had but seventy yards to reach the edge of the cover, so I shouted to the Duffadar Allahoodeen Khan, "There goes my spear: spear him!" Just as the boar struck the first branch of the jungle with his back, breaking my spear in two, the duffadar closed with him in a moment. The boar, having been missed by the spear, was under the horse, and thus for thirty yards the latter, literally lifted off his legs, was plunging and kicking until the rider came to the ground. Fortunately, I had three dogs out with us, and having shouted to let them go, they came up and took off the attention of the boar at the moment I thought he was on the duffadar. The latter had fallen on his sword and broken it, so that he was utterly helpless, for I had not then obtained another

spear.

In the next moment the boar and dogs had disappeared in the jungle; which was, as I before remarked, his stronghold. Immediately I procured a spear, I rode up the face of the hill, and round the further end of the corrie I heard the dogs baying the boar below me; but it was impervious, and, from rock and jungle, was inaccessible to the horse. Looking

towards the spot from whence I had come, and across to the opposite side of the corrie, I saw the duffadar again mounted, and shouted to him, "Lend me a big spear; come down, and let us spear him on foot: he is killing the dogs." The man replied, " For heaven's sake, sahib, don't attempt it on foot!" It then suddenly occurred to me that this was the native officer who, a year before, when out with another party, had been dreadfully wounded by a wild boar on that occasion the boar knocked him down, and stripped the flesh off his thighs. At this moment, up came one of my people with my heavy double rifle, and being still under the impression that the boar was killing the dogs, I descended on foot into the ravine, leaving my mare with the gun-carrier. Just as I got to the bottom, I saw the monster boar with his back to a tree, and the three dogs looking very cautiously at him. He was about forty yards' distance from me.

There was an open, green space where the water lodged in the rains, and clear of jungle. At the further end stood the boar. Directly he saw me,

putting his head a little down to take aim, he came straight at me, increasing his pace from the trot to the charge.

When about fifteen yards off, he received the first bullet of my rifle in his neck. Taking not the least notice of it, he came on, and the second barrel, fired at him at about five yards, broke his left under

jaw bone at the tusk.

Fortunately I brought my

rifle down to the charge, and striking it with his head, the boar sent me over on my back. While running over me, he made a glance and wounded me in the left arm. Had I not put down my rifle-barrel at the moment, most probably his tusk would have been buried in my body, and this interesting tale never appeared before the public!

As it was, I had two shooting-jackets on, it being a very cold morning; and I suffered more from the jar on my shoulders than from the wound. As I lay, I seized the end of my rifle-barrels, determining to sell my life as dearly as possible. To my delight, I must say, I saw the boar knock over the man who was running down with my big spear. He did not turn on either of us; for the boar is a noble foe, rarely turning, unless desperately wounded and unable to go on, to mutilate a fallen enemy. The dogs immediately tackled him, and permitted me, though breathless, to get up. The spear-carrier looked covered with blood, enveloped as he was in a large white sheet-the usual protection of a native against the cold of the morning. My first impression was that the man was mortally wounded; but I soon discovered, to my delight, that the blood on the cloth was that of the boar. The man valiantly affirmed that he had speared him, but the mud on the broad blade clearly denoted what an ignominious sheath it had found.