THE VETERAN OF TWIN HILLS

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 142, 18 June 1938, Page 8 (Supplement)

THE VETERAN OF TWIN HILLS

ON Tuesday evening Bill Reynolds rode over from Twin Halls, As he arrived the boy* were juat clia-:ng the last cm into the night paddock and were ready to call it a day. -How about a pig Hunt on Saturday ? be asked- "Mac'g giving me the day off. Will your dad let you come !" Tiie Irwin twins looked glum. "Sot a hope," replied George, "we've asked Mm lots of times." '•That's right," agreed Brib.ii, "he always says we're too young, yet whenever he gets a chance be telle strangers about the boar he killed with a shear blade tied on a stick. He was tstill going to school himself then.'' Bill was not to be thwarted. "Well, let's see what we can do. I'll a-k him for you." A i'uiigrv, high-pitched squealing at the piggery directed their steps toward the unsuspecting Mr. Irwin. "Evening. Bill," he called heartily at the sight of the visitor. "How's things 1" Bill replied suitably and conversation drifted from "these darn sandflies'' to the prospects of rain, the second wool stile, that Maori bull and M icdonald's back country going back into fern. "There's plenty of young fern, all right." agreed Bill, ''and the pigs know it. Yesterday I ran into a fat young sow." Irwin's eyes glistened. "I haven't tasted a piece of real young fernfattened pork in years. Now, if yau should get one, don't forget me." T was just thinking of having a little hunt on Saturday," replied Bill, easily. "How about the boye coming?" "They're too young yet to be around the bush with guns," said Irwin promptly. "Another couple of years perhaps." A Porcine Waterloo. "There were five or si* half-grown porkers about as well," continued Bill, as though he hadn't heard. "The dogs caught one, but I hadn't a knife «*r anything to tie it with." Irwin groaned. "That's always the luck. And there'« nothing I like better than wild pork that size." "Just rolling fat, too," continued Bill with Machiavellian cunning. "Of course I wouldn't bother going

by H. F. Williams

out on my own. I just thought the boys might like to see the country and perhaps have a bit of fun." Irwin weakened visibly, the scent of roasting meat, brown and crackly, strong in his nostrils. "Well, of course, if you're keeping to the open country and the kids stay on their horses, I suppose it would be all right. But mind you don't take them in. the bush." Thanks, dad," burst in the bovs, gratefully. "We'll do just as Bill says," added George, dutifully. So the hunt was arranged. Thev were to be at Macdonald's by 8.30 a.m., bringing Irwin's .44 carbine, as Bill hod but two shells left for his gun. The great day dawned clear. Armed with enormous lunches, a hatchet, hunting kuiie and the rifle,' they swung up on their ponies and, followed by their two dogs, headed for Twin Hills. Thev made short work of the intervening six miles and rode gaily up to the homestead to find their plans all askew. Bill was sitting on the verandah, his bandaged leg resting on a chair. "Just did it yesterday," he told them. "I was cleaning out the gutter round the woolshed roof wh-n the ladder slipped. Awfully sorry, you chaps." It was a bitter disappointment. Still, nothing could be done about it. After some desultory talk they strolled gloomily back' to where the horses were hitched at the fence. Brian stopped. "W T hat's wrong with us "taking a ride round," he asked. "Dad didn't say we weren't to go without Bill." George was not without qualms of conscience. "He didn't exactly say that, but you know jolly well what he meant.'' _ "Yes, but he didn't say so," persisted Brian, "and anyway, we'd be just going for a ride. If the dogs stir up a pig we can't help it." Further objections were but halfhearted, and a few minutes lately they were riding up the gully keeping the woolshed between them and the homestead. The horses were twitching their ears back. The dogs growled and then looked .•nleased. Panting happily, a young beardy dragging a short length of chain caught up with them. "There's that blessed pup," said George, disgustedly. Tat chance we'll have of getting a pig now, with him around." Brian looked crushed. It was his pup. An hour's ride found them climbing a ridge that separated the clean front country from the fern and bush blocks at the back of the run. Jock, I

the beardy, was well aliead, puppylike. He found a scent, gave a sharp hark, ran to a hole in the bank iind, after some hesitation, thrust his head in. Almost at once he went into reverse. From the burrow came a string of barks and howls that changed to shrill wails of distress. George jumped down and ran forward as the terror-stricken puppy tumbled back from the hole minus his collar. George seized the chain and dragged out the collar with a huge 'possum hanging to it. Amused at Jock's mishap they kept the other dogs off and let the 'possum streak for a tree. Dropping over the other side of the ridge they quartered back and forth across gullies and spurs without success. "If a pig was there Sport or Ben would be sure to find it." They stopped for lunch and then ca-st the dogs out again, Jock running first with one, then with the other. "Looks as though it's a wash-out," irrunted George. "We'll give that pat<-li of bush across t'.ie creek a trvout. It" thcreVi nothing there we'll turn it in." Scarcely had lie spoken when Ben splashed into the creek and made for the bush, nose to the ground. Sport and Jock caught a scent too, and, yelping with excitement, were right behind. Brian pumpVd a shell into the chamber. The dogs disappeared and a moment later Ben's loud, authoritative bark proclaimed he had sighted game. The others joined in. The noise echoed in the narrow gully; through the deafening chorus of barks the watchers could hear the vicious grunt of an angry pig. "Sounds like a big one," said Brian. Without warning an enormous boar broke cover and, dashing across a short stretch of open, was out of sight before Brian could get a shot. The dogs were close behind and had him bailed again at once. "Did you see those tusks?" breathed Brian in an awed voice. "Why, he's bigger than anything anyone has shot around here for years." "I don't like it. He's too big for our dogs. Dad will make an awful fuss if one of them is killed," said George. The bonr was now bailed in a patch of stunted tea-tree. There seemed to be but one way in. There was a sharp yelp and Jock appeared with blood pulsing from a nasty hole in one shoulder.

"Brian," commanded George, "yon stay here and watch the runway. I'm going in to get the dogs off." "Take the gun, George, he may tackle you." "No, you keep it. I wouldn't have any chance to use it and all I want is to have the dogs safe." Filling his pocket with atones from the creek bed, George ducked into the narrow opening end crawled along the pig-run to where the battle was still raging. There in a small opening, with his utern backed up against a large boulder, was the boar, a maesive black brute, watching the dogs with his gleaming, bloodshot eyes, moving little except to stab at a dog when it came within reach. George pelted the dogs with stones, commanding them to come behind. But their blood was up. He moved a little to get a better throw. The movement drew the boar's attention. Without warning he charged. He travelled like a bullet. "Look out!" George yelled, then jumped. A sledge hammer blow caught George's foot whilst still in the air, numbing it and upending him. He landed on his face in the dirt. As if from a long way off he heard -the roar of the .44. Scrambling to hie feet, he hurried down the runway, meeting a white-faced Brian just starting in. "I thought you were hurt when I heard you shout," he said. "The "boar," asked George, "did yo* hit him ?" "I think so. The dog« have him bailed again in the creek." Together they returned. From the bank they looked down on their enemy. He stood facing the doge, bloody froth dripping from bis tuske, a .44 bullet through both lungs, and the light of battle still in his eyes. A game adversary! Brian took careful aim. One *hot, and it was over. George cut several blades of flax and stripped the soft jelly from the centres. Calling Jock "to him he stuffed the shoulder wound full. In a few daye it would heal. His own injnries were confined to a skinned face and the loss of the heel from his boot. The boar's razor-edged tusk had torn it ri"ht off. Brian was inspecting the splendid tusks. "Say, George, where's your hatchet? We'd better chop out these tusks and present them to dad before he sees your boot and the dog."