The bay was not a quarter of a mile distant, and we were puzzled as to the character of the game: whatever it was, it had stood to bay without a run.

Returning to the patina, in which position we could distinctly assure ourselves of the direction, we heard the bay broken, and a slow run commenced.

The next instant Bran came hobbling out of the jungle covered with blood, which streamed from a frightful gash in his hind-quarters.

There was no more doubt remaining as to the game at bay; I it was an enormous boar.
Bran was completely HORS DE COMBAT; and Smut, having lost nearly all his teeth, was of no use singlehanded with such an enemy.

We had no seizers to depend upon, and the boar again stood to bay in a thick jungle.
I happened to have a rifle with me that morning, as I had noticed fresh elephant-tracks in the neighbourhood a few days previous, and hoping to be able to shoot the boar, we entered the jungle and approached the scene of the bay.
When within twenty paces of the spot I heard his fierce grunting as he charged right and left into the baying pack.* (*It was impossible to call the hounds off their game; therefore the only chance lay in the boar being seized, when I could have immediately rushed in with the knife.