ls, much more
so than the tiger, but unless irritated he is not prone to attack
at first sight, except in a few cases of solitary individuals, like
the one above mentioned. I was once rather ludicrously and very
uncomfortably held at bay by a boar who covered the retreat of his
family. One evening, after dismissing my _amlah_, I took up a shot
gun, and, ordering the elephant to follow, strolled across some
fields to a low scrub-covered hill where I thought I might pick up
a few partridges or a peafowl before dusk. On entering the bush which
skirted the base of the hill I was suddenly brought up by a savage
grunt, and there in front of me stood an old boar with his bristles
up, whilst the rest of his family scampered off into the thicket.
I remembered Shakespeare's (the poet's--not the gallant shikari
general's) opinion:--

"To fly the boar before the boar pursues
Were to incense the boar to follow us,"

and therefore stood my ground, undergoing the stern scrutiny of my
bristly friend, who cocked his head on one side and eyed me in a
doubtful sort of way, whilst he made up his mind whether to go for
me or not, whilst I on my part cogitated on the probable effect at
close quarters of two barrels of No. 6 shot. However, he backed a
bit, and then sidled to the rear for a few paces, when he brought
up with another grunt, but, finding I had not moved, he finally turned
round and dashed after his spouse and little ones. (See also Appendix
C.)

Colonel (now General) Shakespear winds up a thrilling account of a
fight with one with the following paragraph, which will give a good
idea of the endurance of these creatures:--

"There he was with a broken spear in his withers, the shaft sticking
up a foot and a-half from the blade, knocking over a horseman and
wounding his horse; receiving two bullets--ten to the pound
each--the first in his neck and throat, a very deadly part in all
animals; the second breaking his jaw, and fired within a few feet
of the muzzle; making good his charge, cutting down his enemy like
grass, wounding him, knocking over a second man armed with a spear,
defying the dogs, and then, when in the act of charging again, shot
to the brain and dying without a groan."

Although I had not intended giving any shikar stories, I cannot
resist quoting one from General McMaster's 'Notes on Jerdon.' He
writes:--

"In further proof of the savage courage of a boar I may mention the
following instance which