ing ferociously at
an old stump, was one of our hero's pet amusements for many weeks.

Although dogs are not regularly used in hunting the wild boar they are
sometimes employed for scouting in a particularly thick jungle, and
Baden-Powell frequently went to work of this kind with a half-bred
fox-terrier. He regards as one of the joys of true sport the bending
of animals' wills to his own, and while in this respect the horse
ranks highest in his estimation, he is always glad to work with a keen
dog. Beetle, the fox-terrier, was just such a dog as Baden-Powell
would like; he was quick, full of intelligence, a complete stranger to
fear, and moreover he had an individuality of his own. When B.-P.
started off for the haunt of his quarry, Beetle would sit with an air
of great dignity in the front of the saddle, keeping a sharp look-out
for signs of pig. At a likely spot the little dog would jump nimbly
from the saddle and plunge boldly into the jungle. Then a sharp yap
would reach the ears of B.-P., then a smothered growl, a crashing of
twigs and branches, and at last, with a floundering dash, out came the
boar, struggling into his stride with Beetle at his heels. "In the run
which followed," says Baden-Powell, "the little dog used to tail along
after the hunt, and, straining every sense of sight and hearing as
well as of smell to keep to the line, always managed to be in at the
death, in time to hang on to the ear of a charging boar, or to apply
himself to the back end of one who preferred sulking in a bush." And
in the end it was a change of climate, at Natal, that killed the
gallant-hearted Beetle. He died with a tattered ear, a drooping
eyelid, an enlarged foot, and twelve scars on his game little
body--all honourable mementos of innumerable fights with the dreaded
boar.

As showing Baden-Powell's prowess as a hunter we may mention some of
the stuffed animals in the hall of his mother's house, all of which
have fallen to our hero: Black Bucks, Ravine Deer, Gnu, Inyala, Eland,
Jackal, Black Bear, Hippopotamus (a huge skull), Lion, Tiger, and Hog
Deer.

CHAPTER VII

SCOUT

All hardy exercise is good for a soldier, but in pig-sticking
Baden-Powell found a sport which, in addition to its effect upon the
nerves and sinews, gives a man what is called a "stalker's eye," and
that, says B.-P., is _par excellence_ the soldier's eye. It was this
that made B.-P. an enthusiastic hunter of the wild boar. "Without
doubt,