Big Game

Southland Times, Issue 21091, 24 May 1930, Page 22

Big Game

I had quite an adventure to-day. Having nothing to do I decided to go for a pig hunt, so armed with my trusty pocket knife (which cost me 6d) I set off whistling the breezy tune of “Home Sweet Home.” I reached the bush and had not gone far when I saw some Manuka bushes swaying, so, taking my life in my hands, I crept stealthily forward, • wit<i my hand in my hip pocket ready to .whip out my revolver—l mean my (t)rusty pocket knife, at the first opportunity. I peeped over the top of the rise and behold—not the ferocious boar expected—but two tiny black pigs. Oqe pig looked round and saw me and ran away squealing with fright. With my eyes glued on' the other pig I glided noiselessly along—at least a little less noiselessly than a horse. At last piggy eaw me and with a start of surprise he turned and scuttled away. This was too much for me so with a gasp, of dismay, I called my dog and sent him after the pig. At first I thought it would get away but I soon heard a “splash’ and running to the side of the creek that trickled past the bush I saw the little pig in a shallow bit of water, squealling and the dog a few feet away glaring at it. Determined that it should not get away I grabbed it and tucked it under my arm, and like “Tom the Piper’s Son” fled as fast as I could. Oh! how that pig squealed and I expected at every minute that “Ma” pig would be at my heels and' I didn’t want an argument with her. At last to my joy I arrived home and you should have seen my mother’s look of astonishment as I triumphantly placed the pig on the kitchen mat. —Cousin Jack Heath. ’ ‘ (Later Dispatch.) Jack’s pig is getting on fine and is fatter, if possible, than it was when first he caught it. He feeds it upon apples, carrots, turnips, potatoes and milk. He has named it Nell . . . —Cousin May Heath.