The important day came. On a bright fresh morning, soon after the sun had gilded the hilltops, when the air was clear and a cool breeze tempered the summer heat, Ah Lum, accompanied by seven of his best marksmen and by Ah Fu and Jack, rode down to skirt the base of the hill and gain the northern side of the clearing to which the boars were to be driven. Jack had been provided with a rifle and a long knife; his pupil rode at his side, armed with a carbine; and very proudly the boy bore himself. At the foot of the hill the party were met by some of the villagers, come to guide them to their destination. When they reached the spot they found that the clearing was about a furlong across, with thin plantations behind them and on either side, and in front a mass of dense, almost impenetrable scrub interspersed with trees.
The party of ten took up their position in line facing the scrub, standing a few feet apart; Ah Lum was in the centre, with the boy on his left, and Jack one place farther in the same direction. Jack felt that if the Manchurian boar was anything like the Indian specimen of which his planter friend had told him, the party might have a lively time should two or three of the beasts break cover at the same moment, especially if they should charge down through the plantations on left and right. The Chunchuses, however, were evidently secure in their numbers and the stopping power of their military rifles.
The beaters, nearly a thousand strong, had been sent to their allotted positions earlier in the morning. They formed a rough semicircle more than two miles in length. When all was ready, the chief sent a horseman to the farthest point with orders to begin the beat. The clang of a gong soon rang out in the still morning air; immediately the sound was taken up all along the arc; drums, gongs, rattles, shrill yells combined to form a pandemonium of noise. Flocks of birds clattered out of the tree-tops and flew in consternation over the country; hares and rabbits darted out of the underwood as the beaters closed in; a fox or two, even a wolf, came padding out, stopped at the edge, gave a glance at the line of men, and disappeared on either side. All these passed unmolested; the ten stood in silent expectation, ready to bring their weapons to the shoulder.
Suddenly from the centre of the scrub pounded with lowered tusks a large boar. He had advanced some yards into the open before he was aware of the ten human figures ranged opposite to him. Then, swerving heavily to the left, he trotted towards the plantation. At the same moment two shots rang out as one; the chief and his son had fired together, the others waiting in courtesy. Ah Lum, for all his spectacles, his poetry, and his sentences, was an excellent shot; the boar fell within a yard of the trees; the chief's bullet had penetrated his brain.
Hardly had the smoke cleared away when two other boars appeared at different parts of the scrub. Eight rifles flashed; the boar to the right fell; but the other, unhurt, instead of making towards safety in the plantation, dashed straight across the open. As by a miracle it survived a volley from the whole party of ten, and had come within twenty yards of them before it was struck mortally and rolled over. The hunters, their attention fixed on the gallant beast that had just succumbed, did not notice that he was followed at a few yards by a huge tusker, the glare of whose red eyes sent a thrill through one at least of the party. Dashing at headlong speed through the plantation almost in a line with the hunters, the boar came on unswervingly, heedless of a scattering fire. The hunters impeded each other; Ah Lum and the men on his right could hardly fire as they stood without hitting their companions. There was a moment's hesitation; then the chief, with a cry to his boy to run, stepped calmly to the front, preparing to fire at a range of only a few yards. But one of his men on the left, in a nervous anxiety born of the emergency, rushed forward, and, stumbling against his leader, spoilt his aim. The shot flew wide. The unfortunate man paid dearly for his clumsiness. In another moment the boar was among the party, making frantic rushes, ripping and tearing with his formidable tusks, his bloodshot eyes glaring with the concentrated fury which only a wounded boar can express. Several shots were fired, but the beast's movements were so rapid that they either missed him, or, hitting him at a non-fatal spot, served only still further to infuriate him. The inexperienced hunters, indeed, were in greater danger than the boar from each other's firearms. They hesitated in confusion, moving this way and that to avoid each other; then, in a sudden panic, several of them took to their heels and made for the shelter of the trees.
But Ah Fu stood his ground, as though fascinated. His father and Jack perceived at the same moment that the boar in desperate and vengeful rage was heading straight for the boy, who held his carbine at the slant, looking on as at some fearful thrilling spectacle. Ah Lum and Jack, separated from the boy in their movements for securing good aim, sprang to his assistance. But before they could reach his side the beast was upon him. Awake to his danger, the little fellow raised his carbine to his shoulder and fired almost point-blank; but the Russian service bullet has no stopping power to check a wild boar in full career; the boy was toppled over, receiving a gash in the leg from the mighty tusk. Then the animal wheeled in his tracks to pursue his vengeance. Jack's rifle was empty; even if it had been loaded he could hardly have fired without running the risk of hitting the boy. The chief was still a few yards away, he, too, rendered helpless by the same appalling danger. Jack saw that in an instant his little pupil, now gamely struggling to his feet, must be gored to death. Dropping his rifle, he drew his knife, and flung himself upon the blinded, maddened brute, driving the weapon between its shoulders. So great was his impetus that he stumbled full across the boar, which, intent upon its purpose, struggled on a foot or two, staggering under the blow, but making light of Jack's weight. Even as Jack was wondering whether his stroke had failed, the beast uttered a long squealing grunt, fell on its knees, then rolled over stone-dead within a few inches of Ah Fu.
Jack saves Ah Fu
The chief caught the boy in his arms and held him in a warm embrace; the runaway Chunchuses, no more boars being visible, came dropping back from the plantations; and Jack, his coat covered with blood, rose panting from the back of the victim.
CHAPTER X