break out in his
absence, he seized the white pony's bridle, and in spite of Kharrak
Singh's vehement opposition, led him back to his guardians and bade him
stay with them. As he cantered back to his post, the child's shrill
voice made him look round, and he saw him striking furiously with his
sheathed dagger at the hands of the two servants, who held the pony on
either side. Satisfied that the boy was in safety, Gerrard waited,
spear in hand, watching the movements of the bushes, which showed that
some heavy body was making its way through them. From the yapping and
yelping of the dogs at a discreet distance behind, he felt certain that
this was the boar, and listened eagerly for the crackling of the
brushwood as it came towards him. Then it burst into the open--the
finest tusker he had ever seen--and made for him as fiercely as he rode
at it. But to his utter astonishment, just as it met the iron it
swerved violently--so that the spear merely inflicted a long gash from
shoulder to flank--and charged on at something behind him.

Nearly thrown from the saddle by the absence of the expected
resistance, Gerrard recovered himself and wrenched his horse round, to
behold a sight which made his heart stand still. A white pony, with
streaming mane and tail, was in full flight, and on the ground lay a
vivid green and gold bundle, with two small feet kicking in the air.
Kharrak Singh had evidently been thrown sideways from the saddle as the
pony turned tail, and the boar's rush had carried it beyond him, but it
had already transferred its attention from the terrified horse to the
nearer foe. The two retainers, uttering cries of horror as they rode
towards the fray, were hopelessly distant, and there was no one else at
hand. Two things associated themselves in Gerrard's mind, without any
volition on his part--the blood-stained spear in his hand and Kharrak
Singh's broad golden belt, and some vague association with Somwar Mal
was present as well. He and the boar charged simultaneously for the
prostrate child, but before the cruel tusks could reach him, the spear
had passed under the stiff golden folds and swung Kharrak Singh
ignominiously into the air and across Gerrard's saddle. The astonished
horse, accustomed to pig-sticking, but not to having the prey placed on
his back, took the bit between his teeth and dashed furiously away,
with the boar in full pursuit--so Gerrard gathered from the chorus of
yells and shrieks t