This
rendered Forde and his horse _hors de combat_, and Smith and I had the
chase again in our hands. For nearly a mile that boar led us a furious
dance over villainous ground, through spear grass and swamp, in
momentary danger of being thrown or torn by thorny shrub, twisting and
doubling in and out of inaccessible places, but he was beginning to
show signs of fatigue, and we saw he could not make much fight when once
the dogs got hold. The latter were in fierce excitement, having lost
their prey so often. After a final spurt of half a mile they pulled him
down, and he was easily despatched.

Our bag was now six pigs, of which four were boars, and we had been
actually hunting for about three hours, including the time spent in
making the detour. After cutting off a ham and the head of the last
boar, we carried them back to where we left Forde with his wounded
horse. Legge had already arrived, and we all sat down to take some food
while awaiting the arrival of the dray.

The remainder of the herd had reached the hills long since, and there
was no more sport to be had in the neighbourhood that day. Forde removed
his saddle and bridle to be sent on the dray and turned his horse loose
to find his way to the run, while he started on foot to the nearest
station to procure another mount to carry him home. The rest of us
proceeded to a flat near the first gorge of the Ashburton, where we
succeeded in killing five other pigs before the evening closed. Forde's
horse reached his station as soon as his wounded leg permitted him, but
the wound being found more serious than anticipated, and that he would
be lame for life, it was decided to destroy him.

CHAPTER IX.

CATTLE RANCHING AND STOCKRIDING.

While I stayed at Smith's Station, we made acquaintance with a young
man, by name Hudson, a son of the famous Railway King. He had come to
New Zealand a few years previously with slender means and was a pushing,
energetic fellow. He settled on the Ashburton and set up business as a
carter, investing his money in a couple of drays and bullock teams, with
which he contracted to convey wool from the stations to Christchurch,
returning with stores, etc., and sometimes carting timber from the
forest and such like. My first day's experience of driving wild cattle
was in his company.

A stockrider's life is perhaps of all occupations the most enjoyable,
and there is just that element of risk connected with it that increases