Archive image from page 139 of The diary of a sportsman. The diary of a sportsman naturalist in India . diaryofsportsman00steb Year: 1920 lo8 DIARY OF A SPORTSMAN NATURALIST fear, whilst at least one youngster was crying with sheer funk apparently, so far as I could make out. Then a dog's note made itself heard, followed by a second and a third. They were evidently baying something. I listened, keen excitement holding me. What on earth was it ? Suddenly a chorus of grunts broke the silence. Pig, by the gods. Now the jungle was swishing and rustling in all directions. Nearer the noise approach
Archive image from page 139 of The diary of a sportsman. The diary of a sportsman naturalist in India . diaryofsportsman00steb Year: 1920 lo8 DIARY OF A SPORTSMAN NATURALIST fear, whilst at least one youngster was crying with sheer funk apparently, so far as I could make out. Then a dog's note made itself heard, followed by a second and a third. They were evidently baying something. I listened, keen excitement holding me. What on earth was it ? Suddenly a chorus of grunts broke the silence. Pig, by the gods. Now the jungle was swishing and rustling in all directions. Nearer the noise approached and a large sounder broke on the ride between myself and the gun to my right. I raised my rifle, remembered and waited. The big old boar will be here, I reflected. The gun above me fired two barrels. Piggies charged to the right and left with enraged grunts, burrowing into the jungle on our side. Others, just emerging from the opposite edge, halted and looked about with their cunning-looking small eyes, doubtful as to what to do. But little as they Uked the front, they liked the rear still less. The yapping was now quite close and I waited, finger on trigger. Closer came the dogs and louder grew the grunts of more of the sounder, now nearing the line. Quite suddenly a sow who was three parts out of the forest opposite and not twenty-five yards from me—I had hidden myself behind a httle barricade of leafy branches—was propelled into the middle of the ride uttering a startled squeaking grunt as she was flung forward. I was on the point of bursting out laughing, she looked so comic, when a dim grey bulk took her place for an instant on the edge of the forest and then lum- bered out on to the ride. It was the old boar ! He was a fine sight. Of giant bulk, his bristles grey with age and mouth adorned with a pair of giant tushes, by far the largest I had ever seen. On the ride he turned, his bloodshot eyes glaring red fury, whilst he champed his tushes and grunted. On the inst
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