Philip of Texas: A Story of Sheep Raising in Texas — John Shaqi
Philip of Texas: A Story of Sheep Raising in TexasOtis, James
General
Philip of Texas: A Story of Sheep Raising in Texas
Otis, James
Frontier and pioneer life -- Texas
Despite my sharp words Gyp stood irresolute half a minute perhaps,
and I thought he was about to spring upon the foe. I shouted yet more
sternly, and the good dog wheeled about in a manner which told that he
highly disapproved of my forcing him to turn his back upon an enemy,
and trotted away.
The peccaries turned to follow him, whereupon I broke one of the
stoutest branches within my reach and flung it among the drove as a
challenge for them to turn their attention upon me and to give Gyp an
opportunity to escape.
It seemed to me then that you need no more than a tone of defiance to
provoke a row with peccaries, for when the branch hit the leader of the
drove, he turned, with an angry grunt and snort, to face me. Following
his example, the remainder of the drove saw me plainly as I leaned over
in full view.
[Illustration]
If, before we left Bolivar County, any one had told me I would flee
for my life before a drove of hogs, and then allow myself to be held
prisoner by them, I would have laughed heartily, and yet such was the
case now.
The vicious little animals crowded against the trunk of the tree,
leaping up as if hoping to get a hold upon me, and tearing off huge
pieces of the bark in their efforts.
At first I was not inclined to believe the situation very serious, and
said to myself that it was an opportunity to lay in as much fresh pork
as we could use during the winter season. I therefore loaded my rifle
leisurely and prepared to slaughter the entire drove.
MY CARELESSNESS
I fired two shots, bringing down a hog with each bullet. Then, through
clumsiness or the difficulty of holding myself securely upon the small
limb of the tree, the powder horn slipped from my fingers, and in an
instant they had ground it to fragments.
It was useless to blame myself for such a blunder, and for the moment
it did not seem to be very serious, since I expected that my enemies
would soon go away after learning that it was impossible to get at me.
I had killed three outright, and wounded two so severely that they were
lying on the ground; but of these the remainder of the drove appeared
to take no notice whatsoever. Their only object was to get hold of me,
and before ten minutes had passed I began to understand that I was not
only regularly treed, but likely to remain a prisoner until they were
forced to leave me in order to seek food.
[Illustration]
They leaped, and grunted, and snarled, at the foot of the tree until,
as time wore on, I became absolutely afraid that, growing exhausted, I
might fall among them and be torn to pieces.
After a time I lost all desire to look at that ring of sharp tusks
protruding from the red mouths which rose and swayed before me like
some unearthly thing made up of many parts, and was actually grown so
cowardly that I closed my eyes to shut out the sight.
VICIOUS LITTLE ANIMALS
[Illustration]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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