attacking a boar when he had got a bank or ditch between him and me,
and was waiting for me on the other side. The far better plan is to
wait till he sees you are not pressing him, he then goes off at a surly
sling trot, and you can resume the chase with every advantage in your
favour. When the blood however is fairly up, and all one's sporting
instincts roused, it is hard to listen to the dictates of prudence or
the suggestions of caution and experience.

The very same day we had another instance. My manager, 'Young Mac,' as
we called him, had started a huge old boar. He was just over the boar,
and about to deliver his thrust, when his horse stumbled in a rat hole
(it was very rotten ground), and came floundering to earth, bringing
his rider with him. Nothing daunted, Mac picked himself up, lost the
horse, but so eager and excited was he, that he continued the chase on
foot, calling to some of us to catch his horse while he stuck his boar.
The old boar was quite blown, and took in the altered aspect of affairs
at a glance; he turned to charge, and we loudly called on Mac to 'clear
out.' Not a bit of it, he was too excited to realise his danger, but
Pat fortunately interposed his horse and spear in time, and no doubt
saved poor Mac from a gruesome mauling. It was very plucky, but it was
very foolish, for heavily weighted with boots, breeches, spurs, and
spear, a man could have no chance against the savage onset of an
infuriated boar.

In the long thick grass with which the plain was covered the riding was
very dangerous. I remember seeing six riders come signally to grief
over a blind ditch in this jungle. It adds not a little to the
excitement, and really serious accidents are not so common as might be
imagined. It is no joke however when a riderless horse comes ranging up
alongside of you as you are sailing along, intent on war; biting and