Or out in the grass, when a pig was in view, None so eager to start, when he heard a 'halloo'; Off, off like a flash, the ground spurning with scorn, He aye led the van, did my brave 'Bonnie Morn.' O'er _nullah_ and ditch, o'er hedge, fence, or bank, No matter, _he'd_ clear it, aye in the front rank; A brave little hunter as ever was born Was my grand Arab fav'rite, my good 'Bonnie Morn.' Or when in the 'ranks,' who so steady and still? None better than 'Bonnie,' more 'up' in his drill; His fine head erect--eyes flashing with scorn-- Right fit for a charger was staunch 'Bonnie Morn.' And then on the 'Course,' who so willing and true? Past the 'stand' like an arrow the bonnie horse flew; No spur his good rider need ever have worn, For he aye did his best, did my fleet 'Bonnie Morn.' And now here he lies, the good little horse, No more he'll career in the hunt or on 'course': Such a charger to lose makes me sad and forlorn; I _can't_ help a tear, 'tis for poor 'Bonnie Morn.' Ah! blame not my grief, for 'tis deep and sincere, As a friend and companion I held 'Bonnie' dear; No true sportsman ever such feelings will scorn As I heave a deep sigh for my brave 'Bonnie Morn.' And even in death, when in anguish he lay, When his life's blood was drip--dripping--slowly away, His last thought was still of the master he'd borne; He neighed, licked my hand--and thus died 'Bonnie Morn.' One tremendous old boar was killed here during one of our meets, which was long celebrated in our after-dinner talks on boars and hunting. It was called 'THE LUNGRA,' which means the cripple, because it had been wounded in the leg in some previous encounter, perhaps in its hot youth, before age had stiffened its joints and tinged its whiskers with grey. It was the most undaunted pig I have ever seen. It would not budge an inch for the beaters, and charged the elephants time after time, sending them flying from the jungle most ignominiously. At length its patience becoming exhausted, it slowly emerged from the jungle, coolly surveyed the scene and its surroundings, and then, disdaining flight, charged straight at the nearest horseman. Its hide was as tough as a Highland targe, and though L. delivered his spear, it turned the weapon aside as if it was merely a thrust from a wooden pole. The old _lungra_ made good his charge, and ripped L's. horse on the shoulder. It next charged Pat, and ripped his horse, and cut another horse, a valuable black waler, across the knee, laming it for life. Rider after rider charged down upon the fierce old brute. Although repeatedly wounded none of the thrusts were very serious, and already it had put five horses _hors de combat_. It now took up a position under a big 'bhur' tree, close to some water, and while the boldest of us held back for a little, it took a deliberate mud bath under our very noses. Doubtless feeling much refreshed, it again took up its position under