Coming from the north was a grunting drove of creatures. Almost priceless Tamworth pigs I saw they were, and in prime condition. This wild country seemed to agree with pigs as well as with human beings. A yellowish brown old fellow was leading them, and Cassowary said to Dallas, "Another introduction—Sir Veteran Vere de Vere, and Lady Annabella Vere de Vere and all the little Vere de Vere piggie-wiggies—Yellow Boy, Saffron, Quince, Crocus, Jaundice, Topaz, Sulphur, London Fog, Sandy, Amberine, Tawny and their cousins and second cousins too numerous to mention. They salute our guest. Now watch Big Chief playing with them. They are his dearest pets."
Big Chief was giving a series of peculiar howls, and every time he howled the pigs squealed and grunted.
"What is he saying to them?" asked Dallas; "he talks so fast I can't understand."
"He's telling them what lovely things they are going to have to eat. He'll soon have them dancing, tired as they are."
"Are they performing pigs?" asked Dallas.
"No, not really performing. We're not allowed to tease any animal by making it do unnatural tricks. They just do what they're inclined to. See—they're circling round him now trying to find out what he's got in his pockets."
"Latest dance," yelled Big Chief. "Pig-trot," and he twisted and turned, and the pigs followed him and really seemed to be enjoying themselves, for he kept throwing them popcorn, ends of cake, and candy, and as he pranced, he sang, "Golden Dollars Rolling Down the Road, Roll, Golden Dollars, Roll."
"That's his pig song," said Cassowary, "he made it up himself. He's very proud of it. Oh! I say, didn't Amberine do a fine fancy step then—threw out his hoofs just like a little man."
Big Chief kept moving toward the children and me, and seeing that my young master was half afraid of this drove of lusty pigs, I went toward him so that he could get on my back if he wished.