Two or three of the dogs, venturing too near the boar, were instantly ripped up, and the hunters followed as best they might through the tangled brushwood. The King, who was better mounted than his friends, soon left them behind, and, brandishing his spear, followed in the track made by the boar, not without sundry scratches from the projecting branches of the forest trees; but the boar still kept ahead, occasionally turning to look at the hounds who were yelping at his heels, and then dashing onward again; whilst the King, mounted on a powerful and fleet horse, gradually gained on the beast, despite the obstacles that beset his path.
Although the forest of Knaresborough was a Royal appanage, the foresters, as the inhabitants of the district were called, possessed certain privileges of hunting therein, with certain limits; from Haverah Park alone were they excluded, that domain being reserved exclusively for the King and those to whom he gave permission to hunt in the enclosure. Sir William Ingleby being a "forester," therefore had the right of following game in the forest outside the palings of Haverah. On the same day that the King went to hunt in Haverah Park, Sir William went out, boar spear in hand, in search of sport. He was not accompanied by either attendant or dog, trusting alone to his own natural prowess, in case he should meet with game. In his wanderings he had come near the palings of the park, and sat down to partake of a luncheon he had brought with him in his pocket. He was just finishing his meal when he heard the cry of hunting dogs, and immediately afterwards a crashing sound. Looking up he saw the palings give way, and a huge boar rushing through the gap, followed by half a dozen dogs and a man on horseback. He had just time to observe that the hunter was clad in a buff jerkin, with high-reaching boots, and was brandishing a boar spear and encouraging the hounds, when the boar, finding himself so hotly pursued, turned at bay, drove his tusks into a couple of the dogs, and then sprang upon the hunter, overturning the horse, and laying the hunter prostrate on the sward. He was just on the point of dashing his tusks into the body of the fallen enemy, when Sir William rushed up, and with well directed aim struck his spear into the heart of the boar, which fell lifeless at his feet, and then, taking his knife from his girdle, with a huntsman's skill severed the head from the body, the whole occupying but a few minutes.
"And who are you, my brave fellow?" inquired the fallen hunter, whom Sir William had assisted in rising and disentangling from his horse.
"I am a denizen of the forest," replied Sir William. "As to my name, it matters not; but right glad am I to have been the means of rescuing you from the fangs of that monster."
"You have saved me from death, whoever you may be," said the hunter, "and your guerdon shall be equivalent to the service you have rendered me."
"May I be allowed to ask who you may be," continued Sir William, "who are hunting in the King's chase?"
"I am connected with the court of the King, who has come hither for the divertisement of hunting."
"The King, whom Heaven preserve, then is present in the chase?" inquired Sir William.
"He is," replied the hunter, "the remainder of the party will be here anon."
"How shall I know the King, for I shall wish to pay due respect to him?"