kept his hold. Away went the boar covered by a mass of dogs, and bearing
the greater part of our weight in addition, as we hung on to the
hunting-knives buried in his shoulders. For about fifty paces he tore
through the thick jungle, crashing it like a cobweb. At length he again
halted; the dogs, the boar, and ourselves were mingled in a heap of
confusion. All covered with blood and dirt; our own cheers added to the
wild bay of the infuriated hounds and the savage roaring of the boar.
Still he fought and gashed the dogs right and left. He stood about
thirty-eight inches high, and the largest dogs seemed like puppies
beside him; still not a dog relaxed his hold, and he was covered with
wounds. I made a lucky thrust for the nape of his neck. I felt the point
of the knife touch the bone; the spine was divided, and he fell dead.

Smut had two severe gashes in the throat, Lena was cut under the ear,
and Bran's mouth was opened completely up to his ear in a horrible
wound. The dogs were completely exhausted, and lay panting around their
victim. We cut off the boar's head, and, slinging it upon a pole, we
each shouldered an end and carried it to the kennel. The power of this
animal must have been immense. My brother's weight and mine, together
being upward of twenty-four stone, in addition to that of half-a-dozen
heavy dogs, did not appear to trouble him, and had we not been close to
the spot when he came to bay, so that the knives came to the instant
succour of the dogs, he would have most probably killed or wounded half
the pack.

In this wild and rough kind of sport, the best dogs are constantly most
seriously wounded, and after a fight of this kind, needles and thread
and bandages are in frequent requisition. It is wonderful to see the
rapid recovery of dogs from wounds which at first sight appear
incurable. An instance occurred a short time ago, when I certainly gave