It was of no use my calling out for help; everybody was calling out, everybody was excited, firing at the lots of pigs that were running about in all directions.  At the moment when I began to think affairs somewhat serious (I tried to get up and walk, but could not do so on account of my ankle), as the boar was crawling towards me, looking very mischievous, two great shepherd’s dogs arrived on the scene, and went straight in for my enemy.  Poor beast!  He made a gallant fight; he could hardly move, but he could use his head, and he tore one of the dogs open in a frightful way; then two or three men came up, but they were afraid to go near to the boar.  I made them hand me my gun that was lying on the ground near me, with which I soon put a stop to the battle.  Then all the people began to muster round their dead enemy, and it was laughable to see and hear how they abused and kicked the body of the pig.  How to get the carcass away was the next question.  We sent for two waggons and four or five Christians (as the Turks won’t touch pig), one to carry me, the others the boar; so, after being placed in the waggons, we made with piggy a triumphant return to the village.  Luckily the village was on the sea-shore, and my yacht was lying close to the land, so I got on board comfortably; but it was several days before I could walk.

I believe that that pig was nasty, and would have given me the jerk if he could have done so.  Five other boar were killed on that occasion, one of my friends killing two; but I had the honour of killing the boar of the period in that part of the world.  While referring to that neighbourhood, I would mention that it was within five miles of the place I have been writing about that poor Captain Selby, of H.M.S.  ‘Rapid,’ was killed, some two years since.  There are people who think that he was attacked and murdered by robbers.  Such is not the case; his death was a most unfortunate occurrence brought on by a misunderstanding.

It is true that the man who shot poor Selby was an ignorant savage, but there was no premeditation.  It was a word and a blow.  The latter, though inexcusable to the last degree, was given by a ruffian whose class are in the habit of shooting and stabbing one another (let alone strangers, whom they detest) at the slightest provocation.  They are not natives of Turkey, but come of strange tribes who live far away and are hired to guard the sheep in the winter months, returning to their homes in the summer.  I went myself to the spot where the sad occurrence took place shortly afterwards, and found the people very penitent and very frightened.  Let us hope that the punishment awarded to the principal actors in the sad affair will be a salutary warning for the future.

As brigandage may be considered as in some way connected with sporting, inasmuch as many refrain from going out shooting when they fear being robbed and murdered, I will say a few words about brigandage in Anatolia.