Punch: Punch (69.1875)

December 4, 1875.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 231

''OUR REPRESENTATIVE" IN INDIA.

{The Prince among the Pig-Stickers—a Sketch from Life.)

antarra, tantarra,
the hunt is up! "
for " 'Tis our
opening day! Up
rouse ye then,
my merry, merry
men, for 'tis our
opening day I"
And, "If you/re
waking, call me
early, call me
early, Ayah dear,
as I'm to go
out Pig-sticking,
and hope to get
"first spear."
"And a-sticking
we did go, my
boys, a-sticking
we did go !"
"With a heigho
sticky ! Hark
for'ard, hark for'-
ard tantsticky!
And this is the
burthen of my
song, lp-4<u .i pig mus>t die! To-day a pig must die!!"

Just cut that up into verse, sing it, with a chorus, and see how it
goes. It even woke the early Mangoes—the mango is so early that
it's a proverb here "Up with the mango,"—and echoed through
the farspreading chowries.

You in England haven't the vaguest idea of Pig-sticking. Ah!
it is the sport of sports! You in England would send for a pork-
butcher, or, rather, send to a pork-butcher, and order the pig that
had already been stuck. Not so here. Pig-sticking is the national
sport. Children in arms are brought up to the sound of the dark
Ayahs' voices, accompanied by the tinkle of the budjerow (a native
instrument of a very sweet tone, in shape something between a
pillar-box and a dust-shovel),* singing in Hindostanee (what you
wouldn't understand, so I translate). I give the Orientalisms as
nearly as possible—

" This offspring of the female porker travelled to the place where
the vendors of varieties trade publicly in their merchandise; This,
the next in order of the sons of the sow, preferred to remain in the
house of his parents, where he had been reared ; This, his brother,
sat down to a dainty meal; And, this, the next of kin, sat down,
but partook not of the savoury mess; And this, the smallest of the
Porco family, lifted up its voice and wept bitterly, crying 1 Qwee,
Qwee, QweekIV"

Is not this beautiful ? Ah, you should hear the Florikans (a kind
of Indian chorister) chanting it in their deep and wild cadences,
while the Chicks dance around, keeping excellent time on their

charpoys.f

"Well, Sir, to the sport itself. We were aroused in the morning
by the Hakims (Indian pig-huntsmen), who blew the Chont (Indian
hunting-horn made of elephants' tusks), and summoned us from our
comfortable Chupatties (beds).

We were all rather sleepy, having been engaged, deeply, in an
Indian rubber till past four in the morning. (You know a certain dis-
tinguished Royal Personage is fond of his rubber. '' Aye, there' s the
rub," as What 's-his-name says.) Well, Sir, I am the first to spring
up, and get to boot and saddle. After a hasty breakfast (before the
boot and saddle, of course), we mounted our Bhanses (horses about
sixteen hands high, piebald), and flourishing our bunds (Indian
hunting crops, made out of stalks of maize), we cantered gaily
towards the covert side.

* We have'looked out budjerow in the Dictionary, where the meaning is
distinctly given as " a decked passage-boat." We begin to suspect our Cor-
respondent—or a new Indian Dictionary is a desideratissimum.—Ed.

f Now, we will not stand this. Let the intelligent reader try for himself
if he can't make our old nursery song of " This pig went to market," &c, fit
exactly into what our Correspondent (the humbug!) calls the " Orientalisms " ?
He may be right, and it may have a common origin: but we do begin to
suspect. Again we have consulted the Dictionary, and we find the meaning
of Florikan, which he explains as a kind of Indian chorister, to be a " bird of
the bustard tribe;" also the Chicks are not children (as he would have us
believe), but " Thin curtains, made of thread and strips of bamboo; " and,
finally, a Gharpoy, which he would palm off on us as another musical instru-
ment, is "a low bed, or stretcher." Our Correspondeat, we begin to think,
tells lots of Gharpoys, or stretchers. But we caution the Public, and can do
no more.—Ed.

Here the Dewanee Khds (or} pig-beater), informed us in a low
voice, or what they call in India a " pig's whisper," that a magnifi-
cent Buckshees (a sort of fine sucking-pig), had been seen within a
few yards of the Bunneer (or shooting lodge by the covert side).*

I have scarcely time to describe the exciting scene. We hid
behind thickets, our breath suspended, our pulses beating fast, our
hands on our rifles, our eyes fixed intently on the spot where it was
likely the sucking-pig would rush out of his ambush. The beaters
went in crying " Jdt! Jdt!" and only succeeded in driving out a
fine specimen of the Jampaun,t which I kicked over, and it fell in
mortal fear. I picked it up, wrung its neck, and put it into my bag,
for the Jampaun is good eating. A certain Royal Personage cries
out, " J"AooZ Jemadar guddee gurrah ! " " Ja, mynheer ! " I replied
in the same tone, though not in the same language. But to me all
languages are alike. +

And in less than no time out rushed one of the finest sucking-pigs
I've ever seen out of a dish. He made, squealing and squeaking
savagely, for where the Hope of our Nation was standing, who fired
five shots from his rifle, seven from his revolver, and then stood on
the defensive with his sticker.

It was a moment of intense excitement. The sucking-pig jumped
up furiously, the P--ce defended himself gallantly, but unfortu-
nately, not being the old hand at it that I am, he had not learnt the
trick of fence so necessary on these occasions. He fell on one knee;
the pig was making a dash at him which would have proved fatal,
and there was that expression on the pig's face which would have
terrified the boldest of us, when I took one leap, and drawing the
carving-fork (worn on these hunting excursions), I plunged it into
the creature's back, while my knife soon settled the remainder of
the question. He squealed horribly, but I crammed an apple and
an onion into his mouth, and in another second our Cummerbunds
had lighted a fire and were cooking our victim.

Of the affecting scene that followed it would not be becoming in
us to speak. We wept on one another's shoulders. But I leave this
to England's future historian. It was a glorious animal, measuring
at least fourteen inches from the tip of his snout to the curl of his
tail. We gathered about the fire, for the dews were falling, ate
trotters and drank Hafiz (a sort of Indian Champagne, as you may
see by the name, with "fiz" in it), and then rode home singing,
" Mahout! Mahout ! " the great hunting song in those parts.
I remain, in hot haste, ever

Your Representative in India.

* There must be something wrong with our Dictionary. We've held it
up to the light, we've turned it upside down, we've consulted solicitors and
one of the Indian sweepers of the Metropolis, and we find that the Indian
words used by our Correspondent in the above paragraph bear the following
meanings. Hakim, a "physician;" and he says it's a "pig-huntsman."
Ghent, which he describes as another musical instrument, is " one-fourth of
the revenue claimed by conquerors of the soil." A chupatty is " an un-
leavened cake," and he makes "a bed" of it. A bhansee, which he turns
into a "horse sixteen hands high," is, in the Dictionary, "a short-winged
hawk ; " and a bund, which he represents himself as nourishing like a whip,
is " an embankment." Dewanee khds is not a " pig-beater," but a " hall of
audience;" buckshees is our old friend baksheesh—not a "pig," but a
'' gratuity;'' and the bunneer is not a '' shooting-lodge,'' but a ' f shopkeeper.''
We do begin to suspect our Correspondent, and really think we have fair
ground for suspicion.—Ed.

t We have looked this word out. Jampaun is " a mountain sedan-chair."
Can it be a mistake, or a misprint, or a lapsus calami ?—Ed.

X We really do believe this.—Ed.

EPISCOPUS LOCUTUS EST.

An invitation, signed by all the head-masters but one of every
great public school in England, to explain his behaviour towards
Ma. Grignon has at length "drawn" the Bishop op Rochester.
Nothing, in the Bishop's opinion, Mr. Grignon could say, could
justify his tone and language touching the Trustees. That is
Bishop Clat/ghton's brief but triumphant vindication of his recti-
tude in sanctioning Mr. Grignon's summary dismissal, having
refused to hear him, or to return him any personal reply. No mat-
ter what provocation the Master of Felsted School had received from
the Trustees, nor what length and amount of service he had done
the school. Had he been heard, of course he could not have proved
more than that the latter had been immense and the former exces-
sive. Even if he could have truly said all that, what then ? The
Bishop had predetermined to be moved by nothing he could say.
No amount of merits, and no excuse, could be weighed against a
little intemperate language. Now we see what caused his Lord-
ship's long silence. It was a serene consciousness that the pro-
priety of his course in confirming the Trustees' dismissal of
Mr. Grignon was self-evident. Bishop Clatjghton is_ announced
shortly to officiate in a more strictly episcopal confirmation. There
can be no fear that this will be at all prejudiced by comparison with
the other.