ently that we began to think our suspicions were unfounded.

We had to leave at daylight next morning in order to reach Peking
before Smith's leave expired. Two days after we left, one of my
friends arrived at Kao-chia-chuang, where we had first hunted, and
reported that the Chinese had brought in all four of the pigs which
we had wounded. One of them, probably the boar we lost on the last
night, was an enormous animal which the natives said weighed more
than five hundred pounds. Of course, this could not have been true,
but it probably did reach nearly four hundred pounds.

What Smith and I said when we learned that the scoundrels had
cheated us would not look well in print. However, it taught us
several things about boar hunting which will prove of value in the
future. The Chinese can sell wild pig meat for a very high price
since it is considered to be a great delicacy. Therefore, if I wound
a pig in the future I shall, myself, follow its trail to the bitter
end. Moreover, I learned that, to knock over a wild boar and keep
him down for good, one needs a heavy rifle. The bullet of my 6.5 mm.
Mannlicher, which has proved to be a wonderful killer for anything
up to and including sheep, has not weight enough behind it to stop a
pig in its tracks. These animals have such wonderful vitality that,
even though shot in a vital spot, they can travel an unbelievable
distance. Next time I shall carry a rifle especially designed for
pigs and thieving Chinese!

CHAPTER XIX

THE GREAT PARK OF THE EASTERN TOMBS

The sunshine of an early spring day was flooding the flower-filled
courtyards of Duke Tsai Tse's palace in Peking when Dr. G. D.
Wilder, Everett Smith, and I alighted from our car at the huge
brass-bound gate. We came by motor instead of rickshaw, for we were
on an official visit which had been arranged by the American
Minister. We would have suffered much loss of "face" had we come in
any lesser vehicle than an automobile, for we were to be received by
a "Royal Highness," an Imperial Duke and a man in whose veins flowed
the bluest of Manchu blood. Although living in retirement, Duke Tsai
Tse is still a powerful and a respected man.

We were ushered through court after court into a large reception
hall furnished in semi-foreign style but in excellent taste. A few
moments later the duke entered, dressed in a simple gown of dark
blue silk. Had I met him casually on the street I should have known
he was a "personali