rannise over the villagers reminds
me of a story which I cannot forbear to tell. A bridge had been thrown
over a river in some outlandish part of India, and his work done, the
Englishman in charge was returning to more civilised regions. Just
before turning his back on the scene of his labours he inquired of a
villager whether he was pleased with the bridge. The man expressed
voluble admiration for the sahib's great skill, but lamented the high
toll that was charged for crossing the bridge. "Toll!" exclaimed the
Briton, "why, there's no toll at all; the bridge is free to
everybody." But the native still protesting that a charge was made,
and saying that a notice to that effect was written up in big English
letters, the engineer went down to the bridge himself to investigate
the mystery. There he discovered his own servant sitting at the
receipt of custom, with a flaming advertisement of Beecham's Pills
pasted on to a board over his head, to which he pointed as his
authority when questioned by rebellious natives.

Baden-Powell tells an amusing story of an impromptu boar hunt. "At a
grand field-day at Delhi, in the presence of all the foreign
delegates, in 1885, a boar suddenly appeared upon the scene and
charged a Horse Artillery gun, effectually stopping it in its advance
at a gallop by throwing down two of the horses. The headquarters staff
and the foreign officers were spectators of this deed, and hastened to
sustain the credit of the Army by seizing lances from their orderlies
and dashing off in pursuit of the boar, who was now cantering off to
find more batteries on which to work his sweet will. The staff,
however, were too quick for him, and, after a good run and fight, he
fell a victim to their attentions, amidst a chorus of _vivas_,
_sacres_, and _houplas_."

The pig is a born fighter. From his early infancy he learns the use of
butting, and perceives, at an age when civilised piggies are just
beginning to root up one's orchard, that his growing tusks are meant
for other uses than those of mere captivation. Little "squeakers" have
been watched by B.-P. having a regular set-to together, while the
older members of their family sat in a pugilistic ring grinning
encouragement. Once Baden-Powell managed to secure a baby pig, and
kept him in his compound, just as he had kept rabbits and guinea-pigs
in England. To watch this squeaker practising "jinking" from a tree
("jinking" is "pig-sticking" for jibbing), and charg