But it was not always necessary that some other should interfere when Gyp and I were waging war against the beasts that would have done injury to the flock. We killed so many coyotes before the season had come to an end that we ceased to think of it as any very great feat, and save for the fact that we always took the wolf's hide, made no more of slaying one than we did of knocking over a jack rabbit.
[HUNTING WILD HOGS]
Having killed a cougar and scores upon scores of wolves, it was my desire to come across a drove of peccaries, as the wild hogs of Texas and Mexico are called. One day, when Zeba told me he had seen a drove of fifteen or twenty near the river, I set off without delay, Gyp at my heels, intending to bring back one or more that we might have a store of salt pork for the winter. Little did I dream what kind of animals I was going against!
We set off early in the morning, Gyp and I, and it seemed as if I had traveled at least seven miles before I came upon any signs of the wild hogs.
When I knew that a large number were close at hand, I began stalking them as I would a herd of deer. If I had known a little more about those vicious animals, I would have understood that at any show of enmity on my part I would bring them down upon me.
In fact, this was what I really did, although unwittingly. I supposed that such game, like others, would take to their heels at the first report of the rifle, and all I might succeed in getting would be at the first shot. Therefore I stole up toward the herd with the greatest caution, spending no less than an hour crawling through the mesquite bushes toward where I heard the little fellows grunting and squealing as they rooted among the decaying leaves for food.
No hunter could have asked for a better shot than I had. With a single ball I killed one of the peccaries, and wounded two others in such a manner that I had no doubt but that I could quickly bring them down. I began to reload the rifle, ordering Gyp to remain at my heels so he might not unduly alarm the drove. Hardly had I poured in the powder and rammed it home, when like a whirlwind all that drove of hogs charged through the mesquite bushes, and in the instant I was fleeing for my life.
Now it may seem odd that a fellow nearly thirteen years old should run away from a drove of hogs: but let me tell you that these were no ordinary animals, as my experience taught me. They were about half the size of a full-grown hog with very sharp snouts, wicked-looking tusks protruding from either side of the mouth, and long, slim legs, which told that they were fitted for a race.