He
was in an open place, with Mrs. Carroll at the edge of the brush to
his right, and Miss Terrill guarding any approach from the left. They
were too far apart to speak to one another, and sat quite still and
alert to any noise as the beaters closed in around them. There was a
sharp rustle in the reeds, and the boar broke out of it some hundred
feet ahead of Holcombe. He went after it at a gallop, headed it off,
and ran it fairly on his spear point as it came toward him; but as he
drew his lance clear his horse came down, falling across him, and for
the instant knocking him breathless. It was all over in a moment. He
raised his head to see the boar turn and charge him; he saw where his
spear point had torn the lower lip from the long tusks, and that the
blood was pouring down its flank. He tried to draw out his legs, but
the pony lay fairly across him, kicking and struggling, and held him
in a vise. So he closed his eyes and covered his head with his arms,
and crouched in a heap waiting. There was the quick beat of a pony's
hoofs on the hard soil, and the rush of the boar within a foot of his
head, and when he looked up he saw Miss Terrill twisting her pony's
head around to charge the boar again, and heard her shout, "Let me
have him!" to Mrs. Carroll.
Mrs. Carroll came toward Holcombe with her spear pointed dangerously
high; she stopped at his side and drew in her rein sharply. "Why don't
you get up? Are you hurt?" she said. "Wait; lie still," she commanded,
"or he'll tramp on you.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49