To these men the mysterious jungle reveals its most hidden secrets.  Surrounded by his herd of buffaloes, the gualla ventures into the darkest recesses and the most tangled thickets.  They have strange wild calls by which they give each other notice of the approach of danger, and when two or three of them meet, each armed with his heavy, iron-shod or brass-bound lathee or quarter staff, they will not budge an inch out of their way for buffalo or boar; nay, they have been known to face the terrible tiger himself, and fairly beat him away from the quivering carcase of some unlucky member of their herd.  They have generally some favourite buffalo on whose broad back they perch themselves, as it browses through the jungle, and from this elevated seat they survey the rest of the herd, and note the incidents of jungle life.  When they wish a little excitement, or a change from their milk and rice diet, there are hundreds of pigs around.

They have a broad, sharp spear-head, to which is attached a stout cord, often made of twisted hide or hair.  Into the socket of the spear is thrust a bamboo pole or shaft, tough, pliant, and flexible.  The cord is wound round the spear and shaft, and the loose end is then fastened to the middle of the pole.  Having thus prepared his weapon, the herdsman mounts his buffalo, and guides it slowly, warily, and cautiously to the haunts of the pig.  These are, of course, quite accustomed to see the buffaloes grazing round them on all sides, and take no notice until the gualla is within striking distance.  When he has got close up to the pig he fancies, he throws his spear with all his force.  The pig naturally bounds off, the shaft comes out of the socket, leaving the spearhead sticking in the wound.  The rope uncoils of itself, but being firmly fastened to the bamboo, it brings up the pig at each bush, and tears and lacerates the wound, until either the spearhead comes out, or the wretched pig drops down dead from exhaustion and loss of blood.  The gualla follows upon his buffalo, and frequently finishes the pig with a few strokes of his lathee.  In any case he gets his pork, and it certainly is an ingenious and bold way of procuring it.

Wild pig are very destructive to crops.  During the night they revel in the cultivated fields contiguous to the jungle, and they destroy more by rooting up than by actually eating.  It is common for the ryot to dig a shallow pit, and ensconce himself inside with his matchlock beside him.  His head being on a level with the ground, he can discern any animal that comes between him and the sky-line.  When a pig comes in sight, he waits till he is within sure distance, and then puts either a bullet or a charge of slugs into him.

The pig is perhaps the most stubborn and courageous animal in India.  Even when pierced with several spears, and bleeding from numerous wounds, he preserves a sullen silence.  He disdains to utter a cry of fear and pain, but maintains a bold front to the last, and dies with his face to the foe, defiant and unconquered.  When hard pressed he scorns to continue his flight, but wheeling round, he makes a determined charge, very frequently to the utter discomfiture of his pursuer.