little curious that they didn't attack us, for hogs don't know as much
as dogs, and they had no reason to feel that one of their number was
more than enough for us."

"I don't see the use in talking about it," remarked Herbert, who gently
tipped his body to the other side, so as to rest differently on the
ground; "I am sure I never was so upset in all my life."

"Nor were we," added Nick; "hogs are queer creatures; if a drove finds
it is going to be attacked by an enemy, the boars will place themselves
on the outside, with the sows and younger ones within, so as to offer
the best resistance to the bear or whatever it is, and they will fight
with great fury. In a wild state, they can run fast, and when the tusks
of the boars get to be six or eight inches long, as they do in time,
they are afraid of no animal in the woods."

"How is that?" asked Herbert, again shifting his position with great
care, but feeling interested in what the lad was telling.

"I suppose because they haven't any reason to be afraid. With those
frightful tusks curving upward from the lower jaw, and with a strength
like Sampson in their necks, they can rip up a bear, a tiger, or any
animal that dare attack them."

"I s'pose they're very strong, Nick?" continued Herbert.

"So strong, indeed, that one of the wild boars in Germany has run under
the horse of a hunter, and, lifting both clear from the ground, trotted
fifty yards with them, before the struggling animal could get himself
loose."