I must warn any sportsman intending to shoot in the Jihoon river that the wandering Arabs who are to be found there, though not brigands of a high order, are petty thieves to the last degree.  We were always obliged to keep a watch in our tents, leaving a man behind in charge when we went on shooting excursions.  On one occasion we found on our return that our watchman had captured an old woman whom he caught in the act of creeping under the tent and stealing a spoon.  I had myself a curious adventure.  An Arab told me that he knew where a boar was lying in the long grass, and that he would take me to the spot if I would accompany him.  We started off together, and on getting well into the wood we went on our hands and knees, crawling under the trees and brushwood, towards the spot where the boar was supposed to be.  We had to keep quite close together.  I carried round my neck a very pretty silver whistle, which I prized exceedingly.  Suddenly, when we were in a very thick part of the bush, the Arab seized hold of my whistle and held it tight.  I immediately grasped the hand that held the whistle; this I did with my right hand holding his left.  He, with his right hand, tried to draw a knife.  I, with my left, tried to get my gun to bear on him, but there was so little room to spare on account of the thick bush that both our operations were difficult of performance.  As soon as I saw him trying to draw a knife, I dropped the hand with the whistle, and seized that with which he tried to draw the knife.  Thus the play went on for two or three minutes; neither of us spoke, all our energies were directed on our different games.  At last, by turning round a little, I succeeded in giving him a tremendous kick, which rolled him over on his back; then my gun was free, and I held it to his head, upon which he took an attitude of supplication on his knees, and prayed for quarter.  I made him give me his knife, go on all-fours again, and creep before me out of the wood.  This was a most audacious attempt at petty robbery.  I should like to have peppered him a little, but he was so penitent, I decided to let him go.  I don’t think he meant to stab me; I think he merely wanted to cut the string that held the whistle.  These men were not generally murderers.  On this trip we killed twelve pigs, a hundred and seven francolin, one lynx, and lots of cock and ducks.  Coming back to the ship I, and those with me in my boat, very nearly came to utter grief.  There was a good deal of sea on the bar of the river.  The cutter that was with me got over all safe, but my whale-boat being loaded heavily with pigs, &c., refused to rise with the waves, and not doing so, the consequences were that she filled and capsized.  We had all to jump and make for the shore, a distance of nearly a mile, being in the greatest danger while doing so of getting into the current of the river.  Any one who had done this must have been washed away and drowned; however, thank goodness, all hands were saved.  The whale-boat was afterwards picked up, having been washed out to sea, but we lost all tents, spare guns, &c.; the pigs remained in the boat, as they were stowed under the thwarts, and hadn’t room to float out; so, friends, take warning of the bar of the Jihoon river.