ns conditions. The
sparse birch scrub in the ravines still afforded them limited
protection during the day, but they could feed only at night. It was
a case of rapid adaptation to changed environment such as I have
seen nowhere else in all the world.

The wapiti, of course, owed their continued existence to the fact
that the Chinese villagers of the valley had no firearms; otherwise,
when the growing antlers set a price upon their heads, they would
all have been exterminated within a year or two.

CHAPTER XVII

WAPITI, ROEBUCK, AND GORAL

After the first day we left the "American Legation" and moved camp
to one of two villages at the upper end of the valley about a mile
nearer the hunting grounds. There were only half a dozen huts, but
they were somewhat superior to those of Wu-tai-hai, and we were able
to make ourselves fairly comfortable. The usual threshing floor of
hard clay adjoined each house, and all day we could hear the steady
beat, beat, beat, of the flails pounding out the wheat.

The grain was usually freed from chaff by the simple process of
throwing it into the air when a brisk wind was blowing, but we saw
several hand winnowing machines which were exceedingly ingenious and
very effective. The wheat was ground between two circular stones
operated by a blindfolded donkey which plodded round and round tied
to a shaft. Of course, had the animal been able to see he would not
have walked continuously in a circle without giving trouble to his
master.

Behind our new house the cliffs rose in sheer walls for hundreds of
feet, and red-legged partridges, or chuckars, were always calling
from some ledge or bowlder. We could have excellent shooting at
almost any hour of the day and often picked up pheasants, bearded
partridges, and rabbits in the tiny fields across the stream.
Besides the wapiti and roebuck, goral were plentiful on the cliffs
and there were a few sheep in the lower valley. Altogether it was a
veritable game paradise, but one which I fear will last only a few
years longer.

We found that the wapiti were not as easy to kill as the first day's
hunt had given us reason to believe. The mountains, separated by
deep ravines, were so high and precipitous that if the deer became
alarmed and crossed a valley it meant a climb of an hour or more to
reach the crest of the new ridge. It was killing work, and we
returned to camp every night utterly exhausted.

The concentration of animal life in thes