Chapter 11: Southern China Wild Boar
Unfortunately for those who would make a careful comparison of the wild hogs of different parts of Central Asia, there are but meager data upon which to work. The study has gone just far enough to determine the fact that there are several distinct species of boar found in China, without establishing records for any group. While the China wild hog may compare in size with that of India, the tusk measurements of the latter are very much larger than anything ever recorded from China. So far as I have read nothing to exceed a ten-inch tusk has been definitely reported from the China species, while boar have been taken in India with a tusk measurement nearly fifteen inches in length. But again it must be remembered that nothing has been recorded from China which can be considered a maximum size.
Shansi province, in the north, offers very fine wild-hog shooting, where the animal is found during the fall and early winter feeding in the forests of dwarf oak. As elsewhere, in this province herds of hogs do a great deal of damage to crops, thus becoming a nuisance to the farmers, who are always happy to have hunting parties come in and scatter the herds, driving them back into the hills.
Hog-shooting is also quite a sport in central China, where it is generally accompanied by an organized drive. It is commonly reported by sportsmen that the meat of both the above species has a tendency to be rather strong in the old hogs. This is not true with the Fukien hogs, for the largest boar killed by me have been both tender and delicately flavored. Wild-hog meat is pronounced almost universally by those who have tried the fresh meat of the young animal most delicately flavored and desirable of all wild game.
Wild-hog hunting offers one of the most attractive sports of all so-called big-game shooting. In Fukien Province almost any shooting worth while is attended by conditions which make a fellow feel he really pays well for the trophies that he gets, but wild-boar shooting is an undertaking calling into play all the patience, strategy, and endurance of the real sportsman.
Personally, I do not term the oft-resorted-to "drive," where the hunter, attended by a gun-bearer, takes his stand upon some divide or runway while a miniature army of coolies armed with horns, gongs and Standard-Oil tins go in to run the game out of the bush, real hunting. There is certainly nothing which savors of the real sport of boar-hunting in this, though it often proves a very effective way of securing a trophy where conditions do not favor a real hunt. Some people are inclined to lose absolutely all that there is worth while in the sport by being prompted too much by the motive of getting a shot, and consequently feel the whole thing has been a failure if game is not driven into the open where an ambush is possible. In this chapter I am not dealing very much with this type of hog-hunting.
In this day of automobiles and automatic guns one gets tired of the pictures so common in the sporting world of cars decorated with game of all kinds, the limit allowed by law always being emphasized. To me this should be discouraged by every person possessing a true sporting spirit.
Game is being rapidly reduced to the point of extinction in parts of China, much to the discredit of the pot hunter. Not so in Fukien. The game hog would soon starve to death after leaving the plains and foothills where certain kinds of game abound. One must get back into the mountains if real sport is to be had. He who visits Fukien and tramps over the fringe of foothills after pheasant or muntjac in spring or early summer in what the eminent scientist, Edmond Heller, termed a "perfectly atrocious" climate, would little dream of the abundance of game to be found in this same open country during the real hunting season.
The only really easy hunting to be found in the province is in this comparatively open region and on the plains after the great game reservoirs of the north have been broken up by the cold and ice and the stream of life has flowed southward for a few weeks. Geese and ducks with myriads of shore birds and waterfowl pile up on the mud flats and lowlands along the coast.
A visit to one of the larger islands, like the Haitang group, to the south of Foochow, would reveal all this and much more. The appearance of the southbound horde of waterfowl is so sudden and abundant it is as though they had suddenly encountered one of those perpendicular air currents the aviator calls a "bank" and had all "side-slipped" to earth.
Shooting geese and duck during the winter, as can be done along the coast, soon ceases to be a sport to any but the game hog, who is out merely for all he can get. I am almost ashamed to confess that I was party with another man to killing twenty-three wild geese with three shots, and would not dare mention the fact if I could not follow it with the statement that I gave all but one of the birds to natives who were doubly benefited by thus getting some much needed food, and by having their wheat fields saved. The winter wheat and bean crop, and, in fact, all green stuff suffer greatly on account of the inland raids by myriads of the bean goose.
The sportsman who is looking for lots of game and easy shooting had better devote his time to winter hunting along the coast, for wild-hog hunting among the mountains would have no attraction for him.
Small herds of wild hogs are to be found in the mountains and hills not far from the large coast cities, but it is not until one gets well back into the mountains proper that one will find such an abundance of hogs as literally to leave signs almost everywhere. But be it remembered that signs are always much easier to find than the animal which made them.
The damage sustained by the farmers at the hands of the wild hogs is enormous, it becoming necessary to abandon totally all effort to cultivate vast areas which in former years produced great quantities of rice. Numerous hamlets have been abandoned on account of the annual raids of herds of hogs, which utterly destroyed all the crops. These abandoned homesteads, now overgrown with grass and tangle, offer the most attractive lair for all kinds of wild animals, including the big cat of the jungle.
The largest boars are generally found alone upon the highest mountain plateaus, except during the rutting season, when they may be found with the herd. I was one day crossing a very high rolling plateau in company with a young man who had accompanied me on a bear hunt. We had found no bear, though we did find what our hunter guide insisted for a time was a large bear, so we had a few minutes of real excitement. I too was fooled for several minutes, until I saw the tail of the animal, which, of course, immediately put it out of the bear category altogether. The animal finally proved to be one of the large hog-nosed badgers common to this particular plateau country. It was standing upon its haunches on the top of a huge bowlder rocking back and forth in the sun with hair much ruffled up. In size, shape, and action the animal appeared to be a true bear. It was a very interesting study to watch this animal go through its antics while basking in the sun.
Crossing a mile or so of the rolling table land, we came over a little divide overlooking a small stretch of marsh land grown rank with tall grass and weeds. My young companion looked far across the swale and saw an animal standing half way up the slope on the opposite side, calling my attention to it. I first thought it a water buffalo, common to the country and to just such a place, but soon realized that it was a rather out-of-the-way place for any domestic animal, so took a second look to see that the animal was a huge wild boar.
I was using my favorite gun, the 250-3000 Savage rifle. The hog lunged forward and started as only a boar can diagonally across the slope. I fired hurriedly, turning it a little into a straightaway, except for the zig-zagging movement of the animal which rendered an accurate aim exceedingly difficult. I followed the target in the irregular motion until my ivory bead showed plainly between the shoulders, when I pressed the trigger. The boar lunged high in the air, striking the ground dead.
My companion turned upon me and, after looking me over in a rather queer way, said, "Why, you did kill it, didn't you?" He was not a great deal more surprised over the shot than I was myself. I found my first shot had inflicted a flesh wound on the left ham, which accounted for the irregular motion of the animal, rendering the second shot so difficult.
I am convinced, that with the exception of the serow, there is no big game in southern China more difficult to get a shot at than is the wild hog. While I look upon driving as the least sportsmanlike and interesting method of hunting hogs, still I have on a number of occasions been party to drives, and I have witnessed some most wonderful strategy on the part of a wise old boar when it seemed to have been safely entrapped in what might be termed a closely drawn human net.
I recall one such drive when a boar of unusual size was thus rounded up and driven over a comparatively open divide in order to give an eminent naturalist visiting me a shot. As the drive proceeded the hog was routed up so as to pass right over this divide. The grass was neither dense nor high on this pass, and we all felt that the scientist would get a shot as the hog headed straight for the pass. I followed the trail of the pig into the open territory of the pass, only to be signaled by the naturalist that he was guarding the animal which was hiding in the open area of the divide.
Accompanying my guest to the spot where he had seen the hog stop, and where he felt absolutely sure it was hiding, we found the tracks showing plainly the method of retreat. The animal had entered the open heading for the pass, but after getting to within three rods of the waiting sportsman had scented or seen him, recoiled and gone through one of those stunts the native hunters have often been led into believing is actually changing into a spirit. Wild hog-hunting is attended with just such uncertainties as these which fill it with thrills.
On another occasion, and near this same spot, I stationed a friend upon a divide after having definitely located a huge boar by walking to within five yards of it while feeding. Upon leaving this man I said to him, "You be on your guard every instant, for I certainly will put the porker over this divide."
Within fifteen minutes we had the hog on the move, directing him toward the divide. My friend was standing between two large pine trees with rifle in hand. I stood off more than one hundred yards where I could plainly see the fun, only to see the big boar follow a smaller one across the divide and within three yards of the pine trees. Supposing my friend had for some reason moved to another position I hurried forward to find him faithfully keeping guard between the pines. He was surprised beyond measure when I told him that I had seen the hogs pass within a few yards of him, in proof of which I showed him the two fresh tracks on the opposite side of the tree against which he was standing. Thus again it may be seen how these large animals move through the tangle without making enough noise to attract the attention of a hunter in waiting but a few yards away.
One must be prepared to encounter wild hog in the most unexpected place when working in a neighborhood where they are to be found. In June, 1920, a missionary friend of mine spent a few weeks on the mountains seven miles from Yenping City. As he walked out one morning armed with his walking stick he encountered a whole herd of hogs. He stood and counted twenty-two animals in this herd, everyone standing head-on intently watching him at not to exceed thirty yards. No animal seemed either alarmed or of a mind to attack.
To offset the action of these hogs I will relate what another fellow missionary told me. He was hurrying along a mountain trail when he almost stumbled over the disemboweled remains of a man. The blood was steaming, showing how recently had been the tragedy. The hog had been disturbed and irritated in some way, whereupon it had charged the intruder, ripping him open with one slash of the tusks.
I came along one afternoon to find a great commotion among wood-gatherers on an almost barren hill. A boar had been disturbed and had charged the first person in sight, inflicting a very severe wound in the thigh. It charged on down the hill, attacking every person along its line of retreat until nineteen persons were laid out more or less seriously injured. The hog was later reported to me several miles beyond, still running at full speed and covered with froth and foam. It is an exceedingly hazardous thing to run afoul an ill-tempered wild hog, for there is no telling what it will do.
One of the first instructions laid down for me by experienced boar hunters was to have either hat or coat ready to cast at a hog before a shot was fired at it. It was claimed that if the hog became enraged it would most certainly charge under conditions which might render a second shot more difficult when the only chance of escape would be to throw pith hat or hunting coat in front of the enraged animal and then to hurriedly step aside, for the brute would attack the garment with a vicious jab of the tusks and proceed in a straight course. I have on several occasions been charged by wounded or enraged wild boar, but never resorted to this method of escape. I look upon an enraged tusker in close quarters as fully dangerous as a full-grown tiger.
We have long since learned at my mission station not to go out after pheasant or rabbits with a shotgun without taking along a few shells loaded with buck shot or slugs. On the morning before Christmas, 1921, several of us started off to get enough pheasant for a joint mission dinner. When we wound up the hunt we had pheasant, quail, duck, a hundred pound python and a large wild hog, offering quite a variety from which to choose. Of this lot many of the Chinese people would have chosen the snake on account of its flesh being a supposed sure cure for leprosy and itch.
Time and again while out pheasant-hunting I have walked right up on a bunch of sleeping wild hog. My dogs have been attacked and very severely handled on a number of such occasions, and only a well-directed shot now and again has saved me from being charged. I followed a fair-sized hog into the tangle of an overgrown spruce forest to find myself in the very midst of ten or more large hogs. They heard me approaching, of course, but supposed I was but another hog following the one just entering their circle. The first thing that I knew there was a series of coughs and grunts which showed that I was recognized as not being altogether of their number.
I was now within the family circle, with hogs on all sides of me, and not to exceed five yards from me, everyone bent upon defense. By sheer outwaiting the hogs they lost their nerve and began to rush back and forth all around me, becoming more and more panic stricken. One very large animal flashed in sight but a few feet in front of me offering an opportunity for a snap shot which killed the big brute and started what otherwise might have been a charge into a hasty rout.
An hour spent in an oft-frequented lair reveals much that reflects pretty clearly upon the living habits of the wild hog. One thing which will almost certainly be found is the "house" located in some secluded level spot. This so-called house has given rise to many stories, and a great deal of conjecture among the native hunters, opinion varying so much that it is really a difficult matter to conclude to just what use the large dome-shaped hut is most put.
A newly constructed house will cover a ten-foot space, and will stand four feet or more at the apex. It is constructed of bamboo, small bushes, grass, and ferns gathered by the builder. I personally visited scores of lairs and examined many of these houses before I found one actually in use.
While out early one morning with my twelveyear-old boy we worked ourselves right into the midst of a herd in a dense spruce forest. The animals were coming together after feeding all night in the nearby rice fields, and were working their way into the tangle to spend the day. We too were separated, and hogs were working all around us. Under such circumstances it is an easy matter cautiously to approach to within a few yards of the animals, as any slight breaking of the brush does not disturb them. I once crawled on my hands and knees through high ferns almost to within reaching distance of hogs working in a large herd in a mountain ravine.
On this particular occasion I signaled my son to follow me, and I followed slowly behind several hogs working toward an abandoned terrace. Soon I came upon a well-formed hog hut which showed every sign of being in use. We both stood beside the hut listening for the slightest sound inside, but everything was as still as death. Suddenly something happened to show that the house was occupied. Without warning the whole thing seemed to arise almost in our faces and three large hogs shot out the opposite side. Then the hut settled back to normal again.
A herd of wild hog will put a most formidable defense against either tiger or leopard, the stronger always protecting the weaker. My large hunting dog is very regularly marked, and has time and again frightened defenseless natives into hysterics as he came lunging out of a tangle into the path in front of them. He was once mistaken for a leopard by a herd of seven wild hog when I was hunting silver pheasant in the mountains near Yenping, and I had a rare opportunity to make a study of hogs when on the defensive. The whole herd had charged the dog with a tremendous roar when disturbed from their bed, and I, supposing they would break away as I have always been told they would do, rushed around the opposite side of the hill in order to intercept them. Everything being quiet, I slowly walked up to the top of the hill, my dog falling in behind me. My approach through the dry leaves and ferns was very noisy, and the animals could easily have gotten away down the opposite slope into a deep and wooded ravine, but not so, for they huddled for the defensive.
To my great surprise I found the hogs were moving cautiously forward to attack me. Being armed with only a shotgun I stood still to see whether or not the animals would retreat, as it was a rather serious thing to enrage a herd in a tangle of the kind. After waiting for a few minutes I saw the huge head of one hog break the cover of ferns only a few feet from me, followed by others, seemingly bent upon an attack. They were very vicious, and seemed utterly devoid of fear. After I shot down the nearest hog the others did not break rank, but only retreated backward into the cover.
My dog still scenting the pheasants rushed forward and was charged by two hogs only a few yards from me. I dropped one of these where it stood, whereupon the second one only slowly retreated backward into the tunnel leading from the bed. Such experiences are thrilling enough for the most daring, and afford opportunity for a study of the animals when defending their home.
Possibly the most handsome specimen shot by me was a large boar killed near Yenping in 1922. I had brought down on other occasions hogs as large as this one possibly, but never quite such an old timer. I shot it at long range with my 250-3000 Savage rifle as it crossed a fire-break far up on the side of a mountain, the big animal rolling down the steep slope, landing in the fields almost at our feet.
This boar afforded a wonderful study. It had a shield of cartilage nearly three-quarters of an inch thick covering the shoulders like a blanket and extending to behind the fifth rib. This shield was impenetrable to anything but a ball fired from a high-power rifle. Behind this shield to far back on the flanks were the scars of many battles, many being the deep and unhealed wounds and cuts of the rutting season just passed. One would little think any animal would stand up against an antagonist to the point of receiving so many terrible wounds. Every wound and cut was at almost the same angle, showing plainly that it had been sustained while engaged in combat with another tusker trying to reach the vitals between the ribs but protected by this shield of impenetrable cartilage. After studying this animal it is easy to conceive of many a boar even in the prime of life receiving mortal wounds from a rival while engaged in combat.
The most satisfactory study of wild hog I ever enjoyed was when I undertook to accompany a noted hog trailer as he followed a herd for more than three hours. This man is a prodigy. No well-trained hound can be more depended upon to put up the quarry than he. He guarantees upon forfeit not to lose the trail until he has gotten the animal on the move, and for this reason is very much in demand among hog hunters.
On this occasion we took the trail where the herd had left the fields at daylight and started up the mountain to bed up for the day. We followed them through deep ravines and tangles for an hour and then over an almost perpendicular cliff. It seemed the hogs would never turn in for the day. Little would one believe a sow would trail her half grown pigs over such ground and so far when beautiful cover was to be had on all sides.
The human hound never seemed very much puzzled, though now and again he did almost lose the trail on the face of the cliff when he would get down and blow his breath into what seemed to be tracks, always to arise and start in the right direction. It was a wonderful study to watch the man, and I became so interested in this that I little cared whether or not I got a shot at the hogs.
As we worked our way through the tangle on all fours this human dog slowed down and beckoned me to draw near him cautiously. Pointing to the ground on an almost baked surface he whispered, "Hogs very near." There was nothing I could see, though I had spent much of my time as a boy in the woods and prided myself upon my Indian tracking ability. I now realized that I was following a "hound" entirely out of my class. Sure enough, we came upon the herd not twenty yards from where the man had called the halt.
In hog-hunting it is often the little and unexpected thing which turns the tide one way or the other. One morning I was out after a very large and ill-famed boar. As luck would have it I came upon the hog feeding upon the bark of roots which it was digging up. The breaking of the roots and peeling off of the bark could be heard for fifty yards, so without difficulty I approached to within a few yards of the animal. As I began to maneuver for a shot, a cicada, benumbed with cold, dropped from a tree as I passed, and began to spin around upon its back uttering its weird "trouble" call. No doubt this same hog had heard cicadas call this same way many times when attacked by birds, but in this instance it was different some way, for the animal suddenly turned into a statue, and then uttered several vicious challenges, accompanied by the loud champing of its jaws together. Not having definitely located the nature or position of its danger it turned and rushed to safety into a near-by ravine.
Taken all in all, wild pig-hunting, with the many conditions not encountered in any other big-game hunting, is a real sport. There are always those elements of uncertainty about it which make the person really appreciate every trophy he succeeds in getting in the hill country of southern China.