Our sport over, and man and beast fairly exhausted, we now bent our course towards home, wending our way over the plain we had crossed in the morning. We four cavaliers, our spears over our shoulders, mounted on our steeds of various statures, led the way; then came straggling attendants, lagging heavily along; and lastly, the goodly show of game, slung on poles, and borne on the shoulders of coolies, brought up the rear. The cavalcade, the game, the wild track of reeds, the distant masses of wood topped with the coco-nut and betel-palm, all seen in the streaming light of the setting sun struggling through the evening’s haze, would have made a fine subject for that prince of animal painters, Landseer. A pleasant meal at my friend’s house closed this my first day’s hog-hunting in India. I had become a mighty hunter at once, and stood two inches higher whenever the feats I had witnessed crossed my mind; the feeling of exultation would have been unalloyed indeed, but for the adventure of that cursed village pig. The supper was capital, and, ye powers that preside over gastronomy, how we did eat! It is a fortunate dispensation of Providence that all men are not hog-hunters, or frequent famine would be the inevitable result. Augustus was pleasant, the Frenchman loquacious, Mr. Tupper had much to say, and the hogs were, at a moderate computation, slain over again half a dozen times at least before supper was ended. Amongst other subjects incidentally discussed, was that of several dacoities, or gang-robberies, lately committed in the neighbourhood, attended with great atrocities. This part of Bengal had long been famous, or rather infamous, for these plunderers, who, led on by their chiefs, the Robin Hoods of India, were a terror to the country. The bands move about, at times levying contributions from the inhabitants, in numbers often sufficiently great to enable them to defy the police, which is, or was, very inefficient—their leaders are great desperadoes. “I hear,” said Augustus, “that Ramsunker has been plundering in this neighbourhood, and swears he will pay me a visit one of these days; but let him come, and we’ll endeavour to give him a warm reception.” De la Chasse and Tupper said they should like nothing better than a skirmish with the banditti, and begged that Augustus would send off an express for them if the aforesaid Ramsunker should ever make his appearance at the Junglesoor Factory. Augustus promised to do so, saying that he should be equally ready to attend their summons if they were first selected for plunder; in short, a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, was then and there struck; after which the high contracting parties, becoming full of Bacchus, sung several songs, disputed, quarrelled, became maudlin, wept, swore everlasting friendship, and retired to rest.