ever come across this open hillside. I'm going to shoot."

"No, no, he won't turn there. I am sure he won't." The Mongol was
right. The big fellow ran straight toward us until he came to the
entrance to the valley. My heart was in my mouth as he stopped for
an instant and looked down into the cover. Then, for some strange
reason, he turned and cane on. Three hundred yards away he halted
suddenly, swung about, and looked at the ravine again as if half
decided to go back.

He was standing broadside, and at the crash of my rifle we could
hear the soft thud of the bullet striking flesh; but without a sign
of injury he ran forward and stopped under a swell of ground. I
could see just ten inches of his back and the magnificent head. It
was a small target at three hundred yards, and I missed him twice.
With the greatest care I held the little ivory bead well down on
that thin brown line, but the bullet only creased his back. It was
no use--I simply could not hit him. Running up the hill a few feet,
I had his Whole body exposed, and the first shot put him down for
good.

With a whoop of joy my old Mongol dashed down the steep slope. I had
never seen him excited while we were hunting sheep, but now he was
wild with delight. Before he had quieted we saw Harry coming over
the hill where the wapiti had first appeared. He told us that he had
knocked the bull down at long range and had expected to find him
dead until he heard me shooting. We found where his bullet had
struck the wapiti in the shoulder, yet the animal was running as
though untouched.

I examined the bull with the greatest interest, for it was the first
Asiatic wapiti of this species that I had ever seen. Its splendid
antlers carried eleven points but they were not as massive in the
beam or as sharply bent backward at the tips as are those of the
American elk. Because of its richer coloration, however, it was
decidedly handsomer than any of the American animals.

But the really extraordinary thing was to find the wapiti there at
all. It seemed as incongruous as the first automobile that I saw
upon the Gobi Desert, for in every other part of the world the
animal is a resident of the park-like openings in the forests. Here
not a twig or bush was in sight, only the rolling, grass-covered
uplands. Undoubtedly these mountains had been wooded many years ago,
and as the trees were cut away, the animals had no alternative
except to die or adapt themselves to almost plai