that of all animals the boar does not fear to drink at the same pool with a tiger; nay, a case is on record of his having taken his drink with a tiger on each side of him.  In his book on pig-sticking Baden-Powell quotes an exciting description of a battle between a tiger and a boar, a battle which will give English readers a vivid idea of the boar’s pluck and doggedness.  The narrative is as follows:  “When the boar saw the tiger the latter roared.  But the old boar did not seem to mind the roar so very much as might have been anticipated.  He actually repeated his ‘hoo! hoo!’ only in a, if possible, more aggressive, insulting, and defiant manner.  Nay, more, such was his temerity that he actually advanced with a short, sharp rush in the direction of the striped intruder.  Intently peering through the indistinct light, we eagerly watched the development of this strange rencontre.  The tiger was now crouching low, crawling stealthily round and round the boar, who changed front with every movement of his lithe and sinewy adversary, keeping his determined head and sharp, deadly tusks ever facing his stealthy and treacherous foe.  The bristles of the boar’s back were up at a right angle from the strong spine.  The wedge-shaped head poised on the strong neck and thick rampart of muscular shoulder was bent low, and the whole attitude of the body betokened full alertness and angry resoluteness.  In their circlings the two brutes were now nearer to each other and nearer to us, and thus we could mark every movement with greater precision.  The tiger was now growling and showing his teeth; and all this, that takes such a time to tell, was but the work of a few short minutes.  Crouching now still lower, till he seemed almost flat on the ground, and gathering his sinewy limbs beneath his lithe, lean body, he suddenly startled the stillness with a loud roar, and quick as lightning sprang upon the boar.  For a brief minute the struggle was thrilling in its intense excitement.  With one swift, dexterous sweep of the strong, ready paw, the tiger fetched the boar a terrific slap right across the jaw, which made the strong beast reel; but with a hoarse grunt of resolute defiance, with two or three sharp digs of the strong head and neck, and swift, cutting blows of the cruel, gashing tusks, he seemed to make a hole or two in the tiger’s coat, marking it with more stripes than Nature had ever painted there; and presently both combatants were streaming with gore.  The tremendous buffet of the sharp claws had torn flesh and skin away from off the boar’s cheek and forehead, leaving a great ugly flap hanging over his face and half blinding him.  The pig was now on his mettle.  With another hoarse grunt he made straight for the tiger, who very dexterously eluded the charge, and, lithe and quick as a cat after a mouse, doubled almost on itself, and alighted clean on the boar’s back, inserting his teeth above the shoulders, tearing with his claws, and biting out great mouthfuls of flesh from the quivering carcase