a great _masa'oi_ (cedar) tree, which
was evidently her home, followed by two or three game mongrels.

Dropping his rifle, Marchmont ran to the trees, seized the nearest
cur by the tail, and slung it away down the side of the slope, then he
kicked the others out of his way, and kneeling down peered into the dark
recess formed by two of the buttresses.

"Come out of that," I shouted, "you'll get bitten if you go near her.
What are you trying to do? Get out, and give the dogs a chance to turn
her out."

"Bosh! Mind your own business. I know what I'm about. She's lying
inside, as dead as a brickbat I'll have her out in a jiffy," and then
his head and shoulders disappeared--then came a wild, blood-curdling
yell of rage and pain, and the Man Who Knew Everything backed out with
the infuriated sow's teeth deeply imbedded into both sides of his
right hand; his left gripped her by the loose and pendulous skin of her
throat. One of the native boys darted to his aid, and with one blow of
his hatchet split open the animal's skull.

"Well, of all the born idiots----" I began, when I stopped, for I
saw that Marchmont's face was very pale, and that he was suffering
excruciating pain. A pig bite is always dangerous and that which he had
sustained was a serious one. Fortunately, it was bleeding profusely, and
as quickly as possible we procured water, and thoroughly cleansed, and
then bound up his hand.

As soon as we got to Siumu I hurried to the house of the one white
trader, and was lucky in getting a bottle of that good old-fashioned
remedy--Friar's balsam. I poured it into a clean basin, and Marchmont
unhesitatingly put in his hand, and let it stay there. The agony was
great, and the language that poured from the patient was of an extremely
lurid character. But he had wonderful grit, and I had to laugh when he
began abusing himself for being such an idiot. He then allowed a
native woman to cover the entire hand with a huge poultice, made of the
beaten-up pulp of wild oranges--a splendid antiseptic. But it was a
week before he could use his hand again, and his temper was something
abominable. However, we managed to put in the time very pleasantly
by paying a round of visits to the villages along the coast, and were
entertained and feasted to our heart's content by the natives. Then
followed some days' grand pig hunting and pigeon shooting in the
mountains, amidst some of the most lovely tropical scenery in the world.
Marchmont