Harper's Young People, February 17, 1880 Part 4

The wild boar is one of the most dangerous of beasts. Although it belongs to the same great family as the lazy, good-natured pig that lies in utter contentment in the farmer's pen, it is an altogether different creature, and few animals are so difficult to hunt.

In appearance it has the same general characteristics as domestic swine, with the difference that it is larger, covered with coa.r.s.er bristles, has fiery, glowing eyes, and is armed with two terrible tusks, sometimes ten inches long, with which it can inflict dangerous wounds.

Formerly wild boars roamed in great numbers through the forests of Great Britain, but for many years they have been extinct in that country. They are still found in some parts of France and Spain, and are very numerous in Germany and the wild jungles of India. They are also found in Poland, Southern Russia, and Africa. Du Chaillu, the African traveller, mentions encountering a hideous red-haired wild hog in the wondrous equatorial forests of the "dark continent." Notwithstanding its size it was tremendously savage, and very agile, jumping and running like a cat.

Wild hogs are gregarious, and are found in herds. They are fond of living near water, in which they like to roll and wallow; indeed, a bath appears almost indispensable to them, as they will sometimes travel miles to obtain it. Their food consists of roots, nuts, and all kinds of fruits and grains. In Egypt and India they do much injury to the vast tracts of sugar-cane, the thick growth affording them excellent hiding-places and shelter against attack.

It is said that wild hogs will not attack a man unless hunted or enraged; but as they are not only daring, but also very cautious and watchful, they suspect the least approach to be offensive, and proceed to defend themselves.

The sow guards her little ones with great care, and becomes wild with fury if they are touched. She will run with great speed if she hears them call, and few hunters have succeeded in capturing young specimens without first killing the parent. A man once riding through a forest in Germany came upon two little wild pigs which had strayed into the pathway. Delighted with his prize, he rolled the piggies in his horse-blanket, sprang to his saddle, and hastened on his road. But the smothered squealing of her babies reached the ears of the mother, and the man soon heard a loud grunting. On turning round he saw a furious sow, with gleaming eyes, coming after him at full speed. Being unarmed, he was compelled to fling the little pigs on the ground, and ride for his life.

The wolf, the lynx, and even the sly fox are terrible enemies of wild hogs, for with patience and cunning watchfulness they often succeed in making off with very young pigs, which form a most savory repast.

Wild-boar hunting has been held for ages as a royal sport, and in former times no banquet was considered perfect unless the table was graced by a boar's head. Kings and emperors rode to the hunt in those days with numerous followers and huntsmen, all armed with the cross-bow and boar-spear, in search of this royal game. At present wild-boar hunting is carried on to some extent in Germany; but in India it is a favorite sport, as the boar of that country is the largest and fiercest of any in the world, not fearing even the tiger, its savage companion of the jungles. Stories are told of dead boars and tigers being found together, each bearing the marks of a terrible and evenly balanced fight.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A WILD BOAR AT BAY.]

In India boars are hunted on horseback, the chief weapon used being a spear with a stout two-edged blade. A horse must be thoroughly trained to this sport, and must possess great fleetness of foot, as the boar is a very rapid runner. The time chosen for the hunt is at daybreak, as the boar has probably been eating sugar-cane or other food all night, and is sleepy and heavy in the morning, and less capable of a long run.

Savage and powerful dogs are used in the chase, which often prove serviceable in bringing the beast to bay. For dogs the boar has a most violent hatred, and will rush at them blindly often, with its superior strength and formidable tusks overpowering them, unless the hunter be near to use a spear or send a bullet through its heart.

In this country the hog was unknown originally in a natural condition, having been introduced by settlers from the Old World; and the wild boar in our Western and Southern States, and in Canada, is merely the domestic animal relapsed into a primitive state of wild ferocity.

TAKING--NOT STEALING.

BY HANNAH SHEPPARD.

"So that's your game, is it, my lads? Guess I can help you a bit. I'll try, anyhow, if it's only for the love I bore your fathers before you.

And you're fine fellows too; but you've got a wrong twist somewhere, or you'd never in the world do such a thing as that." And quickening his step at the close of his soliloquy, "Captain Dan," as he was called, came up behind two boys who were standing in front of the princ.i.p.al fruit and candy store of the busy town of Hamilton.

A large bag of pea-nuts, with many other things, was displayed outside under the window, and the old man's attention had been attracted by seeing the elder of the boys carelessly pick up a nut as he chatted with his companion, who soon followed his example. Evidently neither one had any thought of doing wrong as they stood eating the nuts and crus.h.i.+ng the sh.e.l.ls in their fingers.

They started as he laid a hand heavily upon the shoulder of each, but answered his greeting so cordially that it was easy to see they were warm friends. He stopped them, as, linking their arms in his, they began to turn him around, by saying: "Going toward home, are ye? Well, I don't mind if I do go a piece with you after a bit, if you'll go down to the sh.o.r.e first, for I want to take another look at that vessel I had a sight of a good hour ago, and see if I can find out where she hails from. There'll be a fine sunset, too, with the clouds piled like yon"--as he pointed seaward. "I 'most wonder you're not out in the _Firefly_. How is it, d.i.c.k?"--turning to the lad on his right hand.

"Why, you see, Captain Dan," replied the boy, slowly, as if bringing his thoughts back from a long distance, "Ethel wanted Maurice to row her over to the Island, though I don't think he knows much more about a boat than May."

"Did they take her with them?" asked the captain, eagerly.

"Yes," answered d.i.c.k; "and I'm sure mamma would not have let her go if she'd been at home. But she was out riding with papa, and May begged so hard that Ethel would take her in spite of all I could say."

"Oh, well, there's no great harm done that I know of," quoth Captain Dan, "though I'm free to confess that I don't think your cousin knows as much of boats as he does of his books. However, as you feel uneasy, we'll wait about the landing till they come, and they can climb the cliff with us if they like. Many's the time little 'May bird' has gone up it on my shoulder, little pet!" Then, as he noticed how intently d.i.c.k was watching, he added, "They'll surely be back before long, and it won't hurt us to talk here awhile, 'specially as I've a word to say to you, my hearties."

"That's all right," responded d.i.c.k, good-humoredly; "for you know Theo and I like nothing better than to have you spin us a yarn--eh, Theo?"

"Yes, indeed," chimed in Theodore Murray, giving a vigorous kick to a stone which lay in the captain's path.

By this time they had reached the sh.o.r.e, and after looking off toward the Island and seeing nothing of their boat, they all sat down on a rock, which seemed almost as though it might have been shaped for a seat, only that it was rather roughly finished.

"You really needn't look so anxious, my boy," said Captain Dan, turning to d.i.c.k, "for I don't think your party could possibly come to harm. Why, the water is as smooth as gla.s.s, and we can see them the moment they round the corner of the cove."

"If Ethel only wasn't so awfully polite," groaned d.i.c.k, "but would just take the oars herself, I'd not mind a bit, for she can row beautifully; but Maurice hasn't an idea how to manage a boat, though he's first rate on land. We're all ready for your yarn, though, captain, as soon as you've got your breath ready to begin to spin it."

Captain Dan smiled, half sadly. "It's no 'yarn' to-night, my lads. But, d.i.c.k, what would you call a man who took what didn't belong to him?"

"Why, a thief, of course," answered the boy, promptly.

"'And what would you say if any one called your father's son a thief?"

pursued the old man.

"Tell him he lied!" exclaimed d.i.c.k, quickly, springing to his feet, and confronting his questioner with flas.h.i.+ng eyes. "What ever _do_ you mean, sir, by such strange talk?"

"Sit down quietly again, and I'll tell you; for though I saw both you and Theo helping yourselves to what didn't belong to you this afternoon, yet I never could find it in my heart to call you thieves; for I suppose you would say it was only 'taking,' and not 'stealing.'"

"What do you mean?" asked Theodore, who had been listening in silence, but with a most puzzled face.

"Just this--that as I walked up the street I saw each of you take a nut or so from the bag which stands in front of Mr. Baker's store."

"Oh," said d.i.c.k, drawing a long breath of relief, "that was all, was it?"

"Why, that wasn't _stealing_, Captain Dan," broke in Theodore, eagerly.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," observed their friend, dryly. "I didn't know you'd paid for the nuts, or I'd not have mentioned the matter."

"Paid for them!" exclaimed both boys at once. "Of course we'd not paid for them; but then that's not stealing, you know, for we only each took one or two, and we were right there in open sight. It's a totally different thing."

"I beg leave to differ entirely from you," answered the captain, in his slow way. "But suppose there'd been a water-melon lying there on the step, would either of you have carried it off without paying for it, or eaten it there, either?"

"Of course not," said d.i.c.k, indignantly; but Theodore broke in, abruptly, as he sprang up, his cheeks glowing with shame:

"I never thought of it so before! Why, it's just dreadful, d.i.c.k; for Captain Dan is right--we were stealing, though we never meant it. Oh, what would my mother say?" he added, with a choke in his voice.

"I don't see it in that light at all," persisted d.i.c.k, st.u.r.dily; "it was only a pea-nut or so, and we didn't do it 'on the sly,' as we would if we'd been 'stealing,' as you say. Why, the very word makes me mad all over"--doubling up his fists as he paced up and down before them, now and then giving himself a shake like a great dog.

"Hold on a minute, my son," said the old man, gently, "and I think I can make it clearer. Suppose a basket of apples was standing in Smith's grocery store. On my way home I stop in to buy a pound of tea, and while it is being weighed out I pick up an apple to eat. You drop in next to get some crackers, and you take one while waiting. Then Theo's mother sends him for a pound of cheese, and he also helps himself. Others follow our example, and though no person takes more than a single one, yet by night the basket is emptied, without a cent of profit to the grocer, though he has paid the farmer for them. Yet you say we have not been stealing. How is it?"

The color had been slowly mounting in d.i.c.k's frank face as he stood before his friend with folded arms, and looking far out to sea. But the instant he heard the question with which the speaker concluded, he turned and said, impulsively: "You're right, Captain Dan, and I'm all wrong. It _is_ stealing, and nothing else, just as you said; but I never thought of it so before, and it's just dreadful. I can't bear to think of it, even though I've hardly ever done it; still, the part I hate just the worst kind is that I've done it at all, and never saw the harm of it till now."

"Tell you what, d.i.c.k," exclaimed Theodore, hurriedly, "I mean to go in and tell Mr. Baker about it on my way home to-night; will you go with me?"

"Of course I will; and we'll pay him for everything we can possibly remember. But I say, old fellow, what if Jack Stretch saw us, or any of those other street chaps? They could turn the tables on us splendidly, you know, after our asking them to go to Sunday-school with us. They'd be likely to tell us we'd borrowed their trade, and would say we needn't preach to them again."

Theodore looked troubled, and then brightened somewhat as a happy thought struck him. "I mean to tell my mother the whole thing before I go to sleep this night," he said, "and I'm sure she'll help us out."

"You're right, my boy," observed the captain, nodding his head with a pleased air. "Your mother's a wise woman; so is yours, d.i.c.k, and I advise you to adopt the same plan; for when boys get too old--or too something--to talk over their troubles and their pleasures with their mothers, you may be pretty sure they're going wrong somehow; at least that has always been my experience."