ed Jack as he sprang into the bushes.

"Won't I, just!" said Peterkin, licking his lips, as we took our station
beside the cliff. "I feel quite a tender affection for young pigs in my
heart. Perhaps it would be more correct to say in my tum--"

"There they come!" cried I as a terrific yell from Jack sent the whole
herd screaming down the hill. Now Peterkin, being unable to hold back,
crept a short way up a very steep grassy mound in order to get a better
view of the hogs before they came up; and just as he raised his head
above its summit, two little pigs, which had outrun their companions,
rushed over the top with the utmost precipitation. One of these brushed
close past Peterkin's ear; the other, unable to arrest its headlong
flight, went, as Peterkin himself afterwards expressed it, `bash' into
his arms with a sudden squeal, which was caused more by the force of the
blow than the will of the animal, and both of them rolled violently down
to the foot of the mound. No sooner was this reached than the little
pig recovered its feet, tossed up its tail, and fled shrieking from the
spot. But I slung a large stone after it, which, being fortunately well
aimed, hit it behind the ear and felled it to the earth.

"Capital, Ralph! that's your sort!" cried Peterkin, who, to my surprise
and great relief, had risen to his feet apparently unhurt, though much
dishevelled. He rushed frantically towards the gorge, which the yells
of the hogs told us they were now approaching. I had made up my mind
that I would abstain from killing another, as, if Peterkin should be
successful, two were more than sufficient for our wants at the present
time. Suddenly they all burst forth--two or three little round ones in
advance, and an enormous old sow with a drove of hogs at her heels.

"Now, Peterkin," said I, "there's a nice little fat one; just spear it."

But Peterkin did not move; he allowed it to pass unharmed. I looked at
him in surprise, and saw that his lips were compressed and his eyebrows
knitted, as if he were about to fight with some awful enemy.

"What is it?" I inquired with some trepidation.

Suddenly he levelled his spear, darted forward, and with a yell that
nearly froze the blood in my veins, stabbed the old sow to the heart.
Nay, so vigorously was it done that the spear went in at one side and
came out at the other!

"Oh Peterkin!" said I, going up to him, "what have you done?"

"Done? I've killed their great-