there are times when nothing in the world does one so much good as giving vent to half a dozen terrific yells in quick succession, and we have always thought that the occasion of a hog hunt is one of them. when the sport first begins, and you hear the game, which is to you invisible, crashing through the bushes on all sides of you; when you see your eager dogs flying over the ground like “coursers in the race” (we never could understand how any healthy boy can live without at least one good dog); when your horse, hearing the sounds of the chase, pricks up his ears and fairly trembles under the saddle with impatience; when you feel your muscles growing rigid, and your heart swelling within you with excitement;—in circumstances like these, is there anything that lets off the surplus steam so easily and completely as a few good yells given with your[85] whole soul? it is one of the very best things in the world for the health—at least the club thought so; and if you could have heard the yells they gave on that particular morning, you would have said that they were blessed with extraordinary lungs.
in less time than it takes to tell it, after the hounds gave them notice that the game had been discovered, the young hunters had scattered in all directions, and walter found himself being carried through the bushes with a rapidity that endangered not only his clothing but his skin, also. his white charger, tom, had engaged in wild-hog hunting so often that he well understood his business, which was to follow rex wherever he went, and keep as close to his heels as possible; and walter had nothing to do but to lie flat along his neck, to avoid being swept out of the saddle by the branches of the trees, shut his eyes and hold on like grim death. this was not the most comfortable position in the world, for the horse, which entered into the sport with as much eagerness as though he possessed the soul to appreciate it, was not at all careful in picking his way. he went like the wind, dodging around this stump, jumping over that, plunging through thickets of briers and cane that seemed[86] almost impassable, and finally, without any word from his rider, suddenly stopped.
walter looked up and found himself in a clear space about ten feet in diameter, in which the bushes had been beaten down and trampled upon until they presented the appearance of having been cut with a scythe. near the middle of this clear spot stood the faithful rex, holding by the ear the largest wild hog it was ever walter’s fortune to put eyes on. his attention was first attracted by a wound on the greyhound’s shoulder, from which the blood was flowing profusely, and then his eyes wandered to the enormous tusks that had made that wound.
these tusks are two teeth in the lower jaw, one on each side, sometimes represented as growing above the snout, as you see them in the pictures in your geography and natural history. you may have regarded these pictures as exaggerations, but if you could have seen the hog rex caught that morning you would have had reason to think differently. his tusks were five inches in length. these teeth are not used in chewing the food, but in fighting; and they are dangerous weapons. a wild hog does not bite his enemy, as one might suppose;[87] but strikes and wounds him with his tusks; and wherever they touch they cut like a knife.
a wild hog is the wildest thing that ever lived, not even excepting a deer or turkey. he inhabits the darkest nooks in the woods, and, like some other wild animals, feeds at night and sleeps in the day time. he has one peculiarity: no matter how tight a place he gets into or how badly he is hurt, he never squeals. more than that, a dog which has often hunted wild hogs seems to fall into their habits, for during the hunt he seldom growls or barks.
walter was highly enraged when he found that rex was wounded, and told himself that if he had had his double-barrel in his hands he would have put an end to that hog’s existence then and there. but he was entirely unarmed, and not possessing the courage to attack such a monster with empty hands, he sat quietly in his saddle and watched the contest. he had seen rex in many a battle before that, and he saw him in some desperate scrapes afterward, but he never knew him to fight with greater determination than he exhibited that morning. have you ever seen an ant carrying off a grain of corn? if you have, you will gain some[88] idea of the great odds rex had to contend with when we tell you that there was as much difference in size between him and the hog, as between the ant and the kernel of corn. he looked altogether too small to engage so large an enemy; but his wound had enraged him, and when he once got his blood up, he feared nothing.
the hog was no coward, either. he had evidently made up his mind to win the battle, and his movements were much more rapid than you would suppose so large a mountain of flesh capable of. he struck at rex repeatedly, and tried hard to bring him within reach of those terrible tusks, one fair blow from which would have ended the battle in an instant and left walter to sing:
“no dog to love, none to caress.”
but rex understood all that quite as well as his master did. he sustained his high reputation even in that emergency, holding fast to the hog’s ear, keeping out of reach of the deadly teeth, and now and then giving his antagonist a shake that brought him to his knees. it was genuine science against kentucky science—main strength and awkwardness. neither of the combatants uttered a sound;[89] both fought in silence and with the energy of desperation.
walter had watched the contest perhaps two or three minutes, not yet having made up his mind what he ought to do, when he heard a crashing in the bushes on the opposite side of the clearing, and presently a large iron-gray horse appeared and stopped as his own had done. on his back he bore an object that was almost covered up by a broad-brimmed planter’s hat; and the removal of that hat revealed the flushed face and black head of phil perkins. he gazed about him for a moment with a bewildered air, and when his eyes rested on the greyhound and his huge antagonist, he straightened up and prepared for action. his first move was to throw back his head and give utterance to a yell that would have done credit to a choctaw brave in his war-paint, and his second to spring off his horse and run to the hound’s assistance. he stopped for a moment to push back his sleeves and settle his hat firmly on his head, and before walter could tell what he was going to do, he caught the hog by his hind legs and with one vigorous twist lifted him from the ground and threw him on his side. holding him down with one hand, he fumbled[90] in his pockets with the other, and finally drew out a piece of rope, with which he proceeded to confine the hog’s feet.
now, perkins was quite as famous for his reckless courage as for his strength, and when he appeared on the scene walter knew that something was going to happen to that hog; but he little thought his friend would attack him with empty hands. “perk!” he exclaimed, in great alarm, “get away from there. don’t you know you are in danger?”
“no, i reckon not,” was perk’s reply. “if i can’t manage any hog that ever ran wild in louisiana, when once i get a good hold of him, i will make you a present of my horse.”
“but, perk, you’ve got hold of a varmint now. that fellow is as big as two common hogs.”
“no difference if he is as big as four. i am man enough for him.”
at this moment, just as walter was about to dismount to go to perk’s assistance, cuff, one of the negroes, hurried up breathless and excited. “marse walter!” he exclaimed, “i’se mighty glad i’se found you. marse ’gene say come dar right away. we got one cotched, but we needs help mighty bad.”
[91]
thinking that his brother might be in trouble (walter told himself that that boy could not be easy unless he was in some sort of difficulty), and not doubting that perk, with the greyhound’s help, would be able to manage his captive, walter put spurs to his horse and followed cuff, who led the way to a ravine about a quarter of a mile distant, and there he found the mate to the hog rex had caught. he was almost as large, quite as furious, and as fully determined to have things all his own way. eugene had thrown a rope around one of his hind legs and fastened it to the nearest tree. he was assisted by bab, the four negroes, and six hounds; but the hog seemed in a fair way to whip them all.
these hounds were unlike rex in more respects than one. not possessing one quarter of his courage, they were out of place in a rough-and-tumble fight—they could not be depended upon. when eugene shouted to them they would catch the hog and pull him to the ground, and the negroes would run up to throw their ropes over his head and around his legs; but he fought so desperately that the hounds would let go their hold, and then there would be a scattering that would have been amusing[92] had the struggle been unattended with danger. the hog seemed to care nothing for the dogs. he tried hard to reach his human enemies, and the only thing that protected them from his fury was the rope—a piece of clothes-line—with which he was tied to the tree. but even that would not long avail them, for, to walter’s intense horror, he saw that some of the strands had parted.
“eugene! bab!” he cried, in a voice which he could scarcely raise above a whisper, “that rope is breaking. run for your lives!”
the words were scarcely spoken when the hog made a savage lunge at eugene, who happened to be nearest him, and the rope, no longer strong enough to sustain his weight, parted with a loud snap. eugene’s face grew as pale as death. he stood for an instant as if paralyzed, and then turned and took to his heels, but before he had made a half dozen steps a root caught his foot, and he fell heavily to the ground.
a cry of horror burst from all who witnessed the peril of the unlucky young hunter, and bab stood motionless, while walter sat in his saddle looking fixedly at his brother without possessing the power to move hand or foot. there was but one thing he[93] could do, and that was to encourage the hounds to catch the hog. that might delay him until eugene could reach his horse, and then he would be safe. as soon as he had recovered the use of his tongue he set up a shout, and the dogs being well trained and accustomed to obedience, seized the hog and pulled him to the ground.
“now, then, run in and catch him—all of us,” cried walter, throwing himself from his saddle. “be in a hurry, and if you once get a good hold of him, hang on with all the strength you’ve got.”
but before bab or any of the negroes had time to move, the hog scrambled to his feet, and shaking off the dogs as easily as a giant would shake off so many school-boys, again started after eugene. so quickly had all this been done that his intended victim had not yet arisen from the ground, and before he could think twice the hog charged upon him like a runaway locomotive. o! if rex had only been there, or if walter had had his trusty double-barrel in his hands!
the only weapon he could find was a short club which happened to be lying near him on the ground, which, even had he been within striking distance of the hog, would no more have checked[94] him in his headlong rush than a straw would stem the current of niagara; still he caught it up and sprang forward, determined to save his brother or share in his peril, when, just in the nick of time—not one single instant too soon—help arrived, and from a source from which he least expected it. he heard a yell of delight from bab, a gray streak flashed before his eyes, and just as eugene put up his arm to ward off the blow from those terrible tusks, which were now almost within an inch of his face, the hog was jerked backward and thrown struggling on the ground. it was out of his power to hurt anybody then, for rex the infallible had him.
“hurrah!” shouted eugene, jumping to his feet, “he’s our hog now. shake him up a little, old fellow, to pay him for the scare he gave me.”
rex did shake him up, not only a little but a great deal; and in five minutes more the hog was secured, his feet having been fastened together so that he could not get up, and his mouth tied with ropes to prevent him from using his teeth. but even then walter could not help trembling. what would have become of his brother if rex had been one minute later? his timely arrival had saved[95] eugene from death, or at least from horrible mutilation, and do you wonder that he threw his arms around that greyhound’s neck and actually hugged him? eugene did not seem to mind it in the least. with him the danger being out of sight, was out of mind. the fight was over; he had come out of it without serious injury; and if there had been another wild hog about he would have been the first to start after it.
“i am all right, walter, don’t look so sober,” said he, rolling up his sleeve to examine his arm, which had been pretty severely bruised by his fall. “now, then, where are perk and featherweight?”
“i haven’t seen featherweight,” replied walter, “but i left perk and rex attending to the mate of this hog. we’ll go and meet him. bring up the cart, cuff, and take care of the game.”
the three hunters mounted their horses and rode back to find perk. as they were considerably wearied by their recent exertions, they allowed their horses to walk leisurely along, and they were probably a quarter of an hour in reaching the spot where walter had first discovered rex and his huge antagonist. they saw no signs of perk, and neither did they hear anything of him; and they concluded[96] that he had tied his hog and sat down to wait for them. they soon learned, however, that their friend was not taking matters quite so easily as they had imagined, and that there were things in the world against which even perk, with all his strength, activity and courage could not prevail; for, when they reached the clearest space in the thicket of briers and cane where walter had left him, they saw a sight that filled them with amazement and alarm. it was nothing less than a fight between perk and the hog. the young hunter was holding his antagonist by both hind feet, and the hog was kicking and struggling and trying hard to get at perk to strike him. the latter’s face was white with terror, the perspiration was streaming from his forehead, and the boys saw that it was with the greatest difficulty that he could retain his hold. he looked up when he heard them approaching, but was too exhausted to speak.
perk in a predicament.
walter and his companions, comprehending the state of affairs at a glance, threw themselves from their horses and hurried to perk’s assistance; but knowing that if he could not manage the hog they had no business with him, they shouted lustily for rex. the faithful animal was always on hand[97] when he was wanted, and before they had spoken his name the second time he came dashing through the bushes and seized the hog, just as perk, completely exhausted, released his hold and sank to the ground. the hog fought desperately with his new enemies, but rex was more than a match for him, and in a few minutes the boys had him securely bound. after that they tied up his mouth, and then turned their attention to perk, who lay where he had fallen, panting loudly and utterly unable to move or speak. they carried him out of the thicket and laid him upon their overcoats, which they spread at the foot of a tree, and while walter supported his head and bab fanned him with his hat, eugene ran to the bayou and presently returned with a cup of water.
“i’m clean done out,” panted perk, when he had drained the cup. “now, listen to me a moment and i’ll tell you something; that was the hardest fight i ever had. just look at that,” he added, extending his hands, which were so badly cramped that he could not open them.
it was fully half an hour before perk’s face resumed its natural color, and then he told his companions how he had got into the predicament[98] in which they found him. as he had a somewhat roundabout way of getting at it, we will tell the story in our own words; and in order that you may fully understand it, we must give you a little insight into rex’s character.
the greyhound had but two faults in the world: he was a constitutional thief, and he always kept as close to walter as he could. he was master of all the hounds on the plantation, and if he caught any of them in the act of appropriating articles that did not belong to them, he did not hesitate to thrash them soundly; and yet, at the same time, he stole more than all the other dogs put together. he would sneak into the kitchen when he thought no one was observing his movements, and purloin any eatables that happened to be within his reach; and as for hens’ nests, the club used to say that he would have nosed out one on top of the house, and conjured up some plan to rob it. walter tried every way he could think of to make an honest dog of him, and to induce him to abandon this bad habit. he fed him until he refused to eat any more, thinking that he would certainly have no inclination to steal for at least an hour or two; but in less than ten minutes he would hear a rumpus in[99] the kitchen, and see rex retreating toward the barn followed by a shower of stove-wood. the habit could not be broken up—it was constitutional.
the other habit was almost as annoying on some occasions as the first. rex kept close at his master’s side night and day. he would sleep in his room if he left his door open, and if he did not, rex would jump up on the wood-shed, thence on to the kitchen, from which he could easily reach the upper porch, that ran entirely around the main building, and so go in at the window. it made no difference to him whether the window was open or not, for he had been known to jump through the sash. he was regular in his attendance at church, and whenever walter went visiting, rex always went too. he seemed to take it for granted that he was welcome wherever his master was, and if any one thought differently, and attempted to drive him out of the house, he would stand his ground, and show his teeth in the most threatening manner. as it was well known throughout the settlement that rex always used those teeth on anything that he got angry at, he was generally allowed to have his own way.
it was this habit that had saved eugene’s life,[100] and placed perk in his dangerous predicament. while walter remained with him, rex clung to the game manfully; but when he went away to assist eugene, rex went too, leaving perk to manage the hog as best he could. the latter, having great confidence in his endurance and power of muscle, did not at first feel at all uneasy; but it was not long before he discovered that a hog, weighing three hundred and fifty pounds, was an ugly customer to handle. he held the animal by his hind legs, which he had lifted from the ground, and it required the outlay of every particle of strength he possessed to retain his hold. he could not manage the hog with one hand, and, of course, while both his hands were employed he could not tie him.
bear in mind, now, that this was no tame hog, that would have run away if perk had released him. he was wild, savage and angry; and if he could have reached his enemy the career of one of the sportsman’s club would have been brought to a sudden close. the hog would have attacked him at once, and perk would have been easily overcome.
the young hunter became alarmed when he saw what a scrape he had got into, and began shouting[101] for help; but the rest of the club were too far away to hear him, and finding that he was wasting his breath to no purpose, he did the only thing he could do—he held fast to save his life. walter was gone fully three-quarters of an hour, and during all this time perk clung to that savage beast, afraid to let go, and almost unable to hold on. his companions arrived just in time to save him; a moment more would have sealed his fate. perk had a high opinion of a hog’s strength and endurance now, and wound up his story by declaring that he would a heap sooner face a bear.
“i believe i own more property now than i did this morning,” said walter, when perk ceased speaking. “i think i heard you say that if you couldn’t tie any hog that ever ran wild in louisiana, you would make me a present of your horse. i consider the animal mine, but you may use him until you can provide yourself with another. can any one tell what has become of featherweight?”
no one could. eugene said that when the hounds first discovered the wild hogs, he and the missing member were riding side by side; and that the last time he saw featherweight he was galloping through the bushes at the top of his speed. every[102] one wondered what had become of him. there was plenty of room in the swamp for him to get lost, but still it was not likely that such a misfortune had befallen him, for featherweight had hunted over the ground so often that he knew it like a book. bab suggested that it would be a good plan for some one to sound a horn, and eugene did so; but no response came. again and again the horn was blown, and finally they heard an answer, but it was not such as they expected. it was the shrill neigh of a horse which rang through the swamps at short intervals, and came nearer and nearer every moment. the club began to look at one another rather anxiously; and when at last a riderless pony—featherweight’s pony—burst from the bushes and galloped up to the place where their own horses were standing, the boys were really alarmed. something had certainly happened to their friend; but whether he had been thrown from his horse or had met with some more serious trouble, they had no means of judging.
“we must start in search of him at once,” said walter. “cuff,” he added, addressing himself to the negro who at that moment drove up with the cart in which lay the two wild hogs, securely[103] bound; “tie that horse behind your wagon, take him to the house with you, and tell father that fred craven is missing, and that we are looking for him. if we are not at home before dark he will know what detains us.”
the boys did not reach home before dark. it was long after midnight when they entered their room and sat down before the fire to dry their clothes, which were covered with mud; and they did not bring featherweight with them, and neither had he come home during their absence. bright and early the next morning they renewed their search, accompanied by mr. gaylord, uncle dick, and some of the negroes. as they were riding through the quarters they met the old servant whose duty it was to feed and take care of the hounds, and he told them that featherweight’s dog had come home during the night all cut to pieces, and so weak from loss of blood that he could scarcely stand. he declared that the mischief had been done by a wild hog, and expressed the fear that featherweight might have been injured also. the boys were greatly terrified by this piece of news. they went to the kennels to look at the hound, which had been wrapped up in blankets and[104] tended as carefully as though he were a human being, and then set out for the woods.
they rode all that day, and not only did they fail to find featherweight, but they did not see anybody until about three o’clock in the afternoon. then walter and perk, who had separated from the others, came suddenly upon some one they did not expect to see. it was wilson, but at first they did not know him. his hands and face were as black as a negro’s, his clothing was torn and covered with soot, and, taken altogether, he was the worst-looking boy they had ever seen. they saw at a glance that he had been in close quarters somewhere.
