It is quite certain that had he not succeeded in his very clever trick the buffalo would either have killed him or would have got away safely. A week or two after this the Colonel was invited by an officer in the English army, named Major Alden, to go wild boar-hunting with him. The Colonel was quite willing, and so they set out together for the river, some three miles away, where they expected to find a wild boar or two. A crowd of natives preceded them, beating up the bushes to drive out the boars. Our hunters were both well mounted and armed with long spears instead of guns. The Major, who wore an undress uniform, carried also a short sword. They had scarcely reached the river-bank when they saw a boar rush out of some underbrush and make rapidly for the river. Both horsemen dashed off in pursuit, Major Alden in advance. Just as he reached the edge of the high bank the Major thought that he had better rein up, but he did not think soon enough. He stopped quite near the brink of the bank, and was on the point of turning back, when the earth caved in beneath his horse, and down into the water and mud, some ten feet below, went horse and rider! Fortunately the river was not very deep at that place, but it was deep enough. The Major went head foremost over his horse’s neck into the water, and the horse with a tremendous splash, went into the mud as far as his legs would let him go. Just in time, our Colonel reined up, and below him he beheld a doleful sight. The Major had risen to his feet but was dripping with mud and water that fell in little cascades from his face, head, and hands and every part of his body. The horse was plunging wildly in the river and the poor Major did not seem to be able to see how to find his way to dry land. [Illustration: THE MAJOR’S TUMBLE.] If the Colonel had been a boy he would have had a good laugh at this mishap of his companion, but as he was a man he tried not to add to the discomfiture of the Major by making fun of him. But when the native beaters came up they set up a shout of laughter, and that made the Major angry enough, and as he wobbled slowly to shore he growled out to the “black rascals” a command to stop their noise, and get his horse out. The black rascals, although they did see a good deal of fun in this unfortunate tumble, proved themselves very useful, for they cleaned the horse and saddle, and while the Major took a bath in the river, (at a place where it was deeper and with a better bottom) they dried his clothes and brushed them with bunches of twigs until they looked quite presentable, and in the afternoon they all set out again on their hunt. But the Major seemed doomed to misfortune that day. He had no spear, for his weapon had been broken in the fall of the morning, and he had sent one of the men back to the village to get him another.