atives of the race are neither particularly good-looking or
useful. They are lank and lean, with large heads and high shoulders,
narrow, spiny backs sloping downwards to the short hind legs; hams they
have none. They are thickly covered with bristles, and are mostly black,
brown, and grizzled in colour. The mass of them are not large, but the
patriarchal boars attain a great size, some of them standing over three
feet in height. These fellows have enormous tusks curling on each side
of their massive jaws, sharp as razors and strong as crowbars.
Wild pigs are usually shy, and keep well out of the way of human
invaders of their solitudes; but boars have occasionally been known to
"tree" some incautious wayfarer, while, when hunted, they become
exceedingly ferocious. One of our stockmen, out riding on open ground,
was attacked by a boar that suddenly rushed upon him from a thicket; his
horse was ripped up in a moment, and he only escaped by nimbly climbing
into a tree that was fortunately near.
In hunting the pigs it is necessary to go afoot, on account of the
density of the bush, and accidents sometimes occur. Some dogs are sure
to be killed; while now and then a too rash hunter may get the calf of
his leg torn off, and might be otherwise injured, even fatally, though I
never knew of any case of so grave a nature.
Settlers regard wild pigs as vermin, only made to be exterminated; and
they have, I think, considerable reason for their hatred. The pigs are
capable of doing a great deal of damage. Fences must be strongly and
closely put up to keep them out, and they must be continually examined
and carefully repaired when necessary; for one rotten stake in a fence
has often been the cause of a loss of great magnitude. In a single
night the wild pigs may devastate many acres, if they once gain
admittance, and destroy tons of potatoes, maize, or any sort of crop.
But there is also another way in which they are prejudicial to the
farmer, and peculiarly so to the newer settler. I have said that they
are excessively lean and ill-shaped beasts, and I may add that their
flesh is not only very tough, but it also has a strong smell, and a
peculiarly nauseous flavour. The old pigs, both male and female, are
absolutely uneatable in any part, though very young sows are appreciated
by the Maoris--when they cannot get domestic-bred pork--and are eaten on
a pinch by settlers and bushmen, whose vigorous appetites overcome all
fastidio
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