Pig-sticking in India.--Varieties of boar.--Their size and height.
--Ingenious mode of capture by the natives,--The 'Batan' or buffalo
herd.--Pigs charging.--Their courage and ferocity.--Destruction of
game.--A close season for game.
The sport _par excellence_ of India is pig-sticking. Call it
hog-hunting if you will, I prefer the honest old-fashioned name. With a
good horse under one, a fair country, with not too many pitfalls, and
'lots of pig,' this sport becomes the most exciting that can be
practised. Some prefer tiger shooting from elephants, others like to
stalk the lordly ibex on the steep Himalayan slopes, but anyone who has
ever enjoyed a rattle after a pig over a good country, will recall the
fierce, delight, the eager thrill, the wild, mad excitement, that
flushed his whole frame, as he met the infuriate charge of a good
thirty-inch fighting boar, and drove his trusty spear well home, laying
low the gallant grey tusker, the indomitable, unconquerable grisly
boar. The subject is well worn; and though the theme is a noble one,
there are but few I fancy who have not read the record of some gallant
fight, where the highest skill, the finest riding, the most undaunted
pluck, and the cool, keen, daring of a practised hand are not _always_
successful against the headlong rush and furious charge of a Bengal
boar at bay.
A record of planter life in India, however, such as this aims at being,
would be incomplete without some reference to the gallant tusker, and
so at the risk of tiring my readers, I must try to describe a
pig-sticking party.
There are two distinct kinds of boar in India, the black and the grey.
Their dispositions are very different, the grey being fiercer and more
pugnacious. He is a vicious and implacable foe when roused, and always
shews better fight than the black variety. The great difference,
however, is in the shape of the skull; that of the black fellow being
high over the frontal bone, and not very long in proportion to height,
while the skull of the grey boar is never very high, but is long, and
receding in proportion to height.
The black boar grows to an enormous size, and the grey ones are,
generally speaking, smaller made animals than the black. The young of
the two also differ in at least one important particular; those of the
grey pig are always born striped, but the young of the black variety
are born of that colour, and are not striped but a uniform black colour
throughout. The two kinds of pig sometimes interbreed, but crosses are
not common; and, from the colour, size, shape of the head, and general
behaviour, one can easily tell at a glance what kind of pig gets up
before his spear, whether it is the heavy, sluggish black boar, or the
veritable fiery, vicious, fighting grey tusker.
Many stories are told of their enormous size, and a 'forty-inch tusker'
is the established standard for a Goliath among boars. The best
fighting boars, however, range from twenty-eight to thirty-two inches
in height, and I make bold to say that very few of the Present
generation of sportsmen have ever seen a veritable wild boar over
thirty-eight inches high.
G.S., who has had perhaps as much jungle experience as any man of
his age in India, a careful observer, and a finished sportsman,
tells me that the biggest _boar_ he ever saw was only thirty-eight
inches high; while the biggest _pig_ he ever killed was a barren
sow, with three-inch tusks sticking out of her gums; she measured
thirty-nine-and-a-half inches, and fought like a demon. I have shot
pig--in heavy jungle where spearing was impracticable--over thirty-six
inches high, but the biggest pig I ever stuck to my own spear was only
twenty-eight inches, and I do not think any pig has been killed in
Chumparun, within the last ten or a dozen years at any rate, over
thirty-eight inches.
In some parts of India, where pigs are numerous and the jungle dense,
the natives adopt a very ingenious mode of hunting. I have frequently
seen it practised by the cowherds on the Koosee _derahs_, i.e. the flat
swampy jungles on the banks of the Koosee. When the annual floods have
subsided, leaving behind a thick deposit of mud, wrack, and brushwood,
the long thick grass soon shoots up to an amazing height, and vast
herds of cattle and tame buffaloes come down to the jungles from the
interior of the country, where natural pasture is scarce. They are
attended by the owner and his assistants, all generally belonging to
the _gualla_, or cowherd caste, although, of course, there are other
castes employed. The owner of the herd gets leave to graze his cattle
in the jungle, by paying a certain fixed sum per head. He fixes on a
high dry ridge of land, where he runs up a few grass huts for himself
and men, and there he erects lines of grass and bamboo screens, behind
which his cattle take shelter at night from the cold south-east wind.
There are also a few huts of exceedingly frail construction for himself
and his people. This small colony, in the midst of the universal jungle
covering the country for miles round, is called a _batan_.
At earliest dawn the buffaloes are milked, and then with their
attendant herdsmen they wend their way to the jungle, where they spend
the day, and return again to the batan at night, when they are again
milked. The milk is made into _ghee_, or clarified butter, and large
quantities are sent down to the towns by country boats. When we want to
get up a hunt, we generally send to the nearest _batan_ for _khubber_,
i.e. news, information. The _Batanea_, or proprietor of the
establishment, is well posted up. Every herdsman as he comes in at
night tells what animals he has seen through the day, and thus at the
_batan_ you hear where tiger, and pig, and deer are to be met with;
where an unlucky cow has been killed; in what ravine is the thickest
jungle; where the path is free from clay, or quicksand; what fords are
safest; and, in short, you get complete information on every point
connected with the jungle and its wild inhabitants.
To these men the mysterious jungle reveals its most hidden secrets.
Surrounded by his herd of buffaloes, the _gualla_ ventures into the
darkest recesses and the most tangled thickets. They have strange wild
calls by which they give each other notice of the approach of danger,
and when two or three of them meet, each armed with his heavy,
iron-shod or brass-bound _lathee_ or quarter staff, they will not budge
an inch out of their way for buffalo or boar; nay, they have been known
to face the terrible tiger himself, and fairly beat him away from the
quivering carcase of some unlucky member of their herd. They have
generally some favourite buffalo on whose broad back they perch
themselves, as it browses through the jungle, and from this elevated
seat they survey the rest of the herd, and note the incidents of jungle
life. When they wish a little excitement, or a change from their milk
and rice diet, there are hundreds of pigs around.
They have a broad, sharp spear-head, to which is attached a stout cord,
often made of twisted hide or hair. Into the socket of the spear is
thrust a bamboo pole or shaft, tough, pliant, and flexible. The cord is
wound round the spear and shaft, and the loose end is then fastened to
the middle of the pole. Having thus prepared his weapon, the herdsman
mounts his buffalo, and guides it slowly, warily, and cautiously to the
haunts of the pig. These are, of course, quite accustomed to see the
buffaloes grazing round them on all sides, and take no notice until the
_gualla_ is within striking distance. When he has got close up to the
pig he fancies, he throws his spear with all his force. The pig
naturally bounds off, the shaft comes out of the socket, leaving the
spearhead sticking in the wound. The rope uncoils of itself, but being
firmly fastened to the bamboo, it brings up the pig at each bush, and
tears and lacerates the wound, until either the spearhead comes out, or
the wretched pig drops down dead from exhaustion and loss of blood. The
_gualla_ follows upon his buffalo, and frequently finishes the pig with
a few strokes of his _lathee_. In any case he gets his pork, and it
certainly is an ingenious and bold way of procuring it.
Wild pig are very destructive to crops. During the night they revel in
the cultivated fields contiguous to the jungle, and they destroy more
by rooting up than by actually eating. It is common for the ryot to dig
a shallow pit, and ensconce himself inside with his matchlock beside
him. His head being on a level with the ground, he can discern any
animal that comes between him and the sky-line. When a pig comes in
sight, he waits till he is within sure distance, and then puts either a
bullet or a charge of slugs into him.
The pig is perhaps the most stubborn and courageous animal in India.
Even when pierced with several spears, and bleeding from numerous
wounds, he preserves a sullen silence. He disdains to utter a cry of
fear and pain, but maintains a bold front to the last, and dies with
his face to the foe, defiant and unconquered. When hard pressed he
scorns to continue his flight, but wheeling round, he makes a
determined charge, very frequently to the utter discomfiture of his
pursuer.
I have seen many a fine horse fearfully cut by a charging pig, and a
determined boar over and over again break through a line of elephants,
and make good his escape. There is no animal in all the vast jungle
that the elephant dreads more than a lusty boar. I have seen elephants
that would stand the repeated charges of a wounded tiger, turn tail and
take to ignominious flight before the onset of an angry boar.
His thick short neck, ponderous body, and wedge-like head are admirably
fitted for crashing through the thick jungle he inhabits, and when he
has made up his mind to charge, very few animals can withstand his
furious rush. Instances are quite common of his having made good his
charge against a line of elephants, cutting and ripping more than one
severely. He has been known to encounter successfully even the kingly
tiger himself. Can it be wondered, then, that we consider him a 'foeman
worthy of our steel'?
To be a good pig-sticker is a recommendation that wins acceptance
everywhere in India. In a district like Chumparun where nearly every
planter was an ardent sportsman, a good rider, and spent nearly half
his time on horseback, pig-sticking was a favourite pastime. Every
factory had at least one bit of likely jungle close by, where a pig
could always be found. When I first went to India we used to take out
our pig-spear over the _zillah_ with us as a matter of course, as we
never knew when we might hit on a boar.
Things are very different now. Cultivation has much increased. Many of
the old jungles have been reclaimed, and I fancy many more pigs are
shot by natives than formerly. A gun can be had now for a few rupees,
and every loafing 'ne'er do weel' in the village manages to procure
one, and wages indiscriminate warfare on bird and beast. It is a
growing evil, and threatens the total extinction of sport in some
districts. I can remember when nearly every tank was good for a few
brace of mallard, duck, or teal, where never a feather is now to be
seen, save the ubiquitous paddy-bird. Jungles, where a pig was a
certain find, only now contain a measly jackal, and not always that;
and cover in which partridge, quail, and sometimes even florican were
numerous, are now only tenanted by the great ground-owl, or a colony of
field rats. I am far from wishing to limit sport to the European
community. I would let every native that so wished sport his double
barrels or handle his spear with the best of us, but he should follow
and indulge in his sport with reason. The breeding seasons of all
animals should be respected, and there should be no indiscriminate
slaughter of male and female, young and old. Until all true sportsmen
in India unite in this matter, the evil will increase, and bye-and-bye
there will be no animals left to afford sport of any kind.
There are cases where wild animals are so numerous and destructive
that extraordinary measures have to be taken for protection from their
ravages, but these are very rare. I remember having once to wage a war
of extermination against a colony of pigs that had taken possession of
some jungle lands near Maharjnugger, a village on the Koosee. I had a
deal of indigo growing on cleared patches at intervals in the jungles,
and there the pigs would root and revel in spite of watchmen, till at
last I was forced in sheer self-defence to begin a crusade against
them. We got a line of elephants, and two or three friends came to
assist, and in one day, and round one village only, we shot sixty-three
full grown pigs. The villagers must have killed and carried away nearly
double that number of young and wounded. That was a very extreme case,
and in a pure jungle country; but in settled districts like Tirhoot
and Chumparun the weaker sex should always be spared, and a close
season for winged game should be insisted on. To the credit of the
planters be it said, that this necessity is quite recognised; but
every pot-bellied native who can beg, borrow, or steal a gun, or in
any way procure one, is constantly on the look out for a pot shot at
some unlucky hen-partridge or quail. A whole village will turn out to
compass the destruction of some wretched sow that may have shewn her
bristles outside the jungle in the daytime.
In districts where cultivated land is scarce and population scattered,
it is almost impossible to enjoy pig-sticking. The breaks of open land
between the jungles are too small and narrow to afford galloping space,
and though you turn the pig out of one patch of jungle, he immediately
finds safe shelter in the next. On the banks of some of the large
rivers, however, such as the Gunduch and the Bagmuttee, there are vast
stretches of undulating sand, crossed at intervals by narrow creeks,
and spotted by patches of close, thick jungle. Here the grey tusker
takes up his abode with his harem. When once you turn him out from his
lair, there is grand hunting room before he can reach the distant patch
of jungle to which he directs his flight. In some parts the _jowah_ (a
plant not unlike broom in appearance) is so thick, that even the
elephants can scarcely force their way through, but as a rule the
beating is pretty easy, and one is almost sure of a find.