He is down, and is also dragged on his face for a moment; but he still keeps his grip in spite of kicking and struggling; keeps a firm, hard hold, regardless of the bruises and scratches he is getting; never leaves go till he gets his opportunity, till he can put foot to the ground; and then, with one mighty heave, over goes the pig on his back. Then triumphantly does Old Colonial put his knee on the boar's belly, calmly he presses back the snout with one hand, while, in the other, his knife glitters for a moment in the sunshine, and is then driven well home.
In another minute, with Old Colonial's whoop of victory ringing in my ears, I, too, am engaged. A great, heavy sow passes close before me, with Katipo tearing at her ear. Simultaneously a couple of Maoris and myself charge after her. One of them stops behind to tomahawk such of her litter as he can catch; the other man and I hurl ourselves down upon the animal, after chasing her a hundred yards or so among the scrub.
I seize at a leg and am thrown violently to the ground, getting a kick in the face that sets my nose bleeding. The Maori comes to my aid and gets a hold, and together we are rolled over on the ground.
Alas! we have not between us Old Colonial's knack and activity, nor are we endowed with muscles of such steely fibre. We keep our clutch determinedly, desperately, and we are flung and bumped among the tree-roots and brushwood. The pig is screaming like a hundred railway engines; kicking, plunging, stamping, tearing, twisting from side to side in a vain endeavour to rid herself of us, or to get at us with those formidable jaws; shaking Katipo--a big mastiff-like cur--about, as a cat would shake a mouse. But still we two men hold on to that hind leg of hers, careless of our hurts, prone on our faces, but straining every muscle to keep the grip. Presently we get a chance; together we get our knees upon a log, together we put our backs into the effort, and heave. Over she goes.
Hurrah! On to her at once! Sit on her belly and keep her down! Never mind the kicking legs in the air! Get a hand between the struggling forelegs, gently, along the neck! Now then, out with the ready sheath-knife, and dig it in! There! Right to the heart, till the blood spurts out over us! Hurrah! Good! There's another mother of a family the less!