summit of a hill. If they are in the brush it is well-nigh
impossible to see them at all. A wild boar is very clever at eluding
his pursuers, and for his size can carry off more lead and requires
more killing than any other animal of which I know. Therefore, you
may be sure of a decidedly interesting hunt. On the other hand, an
unsuspecting pig is easy to stalk, for his eyesight is not good; his
sense of smell is not much better; and he depends largely upon
hearing to protect him from enemies.

In Tientsin and Shanghai there are several sportsmen who year after
year go to try for record tusks--they are the real authorities on
wild boar hunting. My own experience has been limited to perhaps a
dozen pigs killed in Korea, Mongolia, Celebes, and various parts of
China.

Harry Caldwell and I returned from our bighorn sheep and wapiti hunt
on November 19. He was anxious to go with me for wild boar, but
business required his presence in Foochow, and Everett Smith, who
had been my companion on a trip to the Eastern Tombs the previous
spring, volunteered to accompany me. We left on November 28 by the
Peking-Hankow Railroad for Ping-ting-cho, arriving the following
afternoon at two o'clock. There we obtained donkeys for pack and
riding animals. All the traffic in this part of Shansi is by mules
or donkeys. As a result the inns are small, with none of the
spacious courtyards which we had found in the north of the province.
They were not particularly dirty, but the open coal fires which
burned in every kitchen sometimes drove us outside for a breath of
untainted air. How it is possible for human beings to exist in rooms
so filled with coal gas is beyond my knowledge. Of course, death
from gas poisoning is not unusual, but I suppose the natives have
become somewhat immune to its effects.

Our destination was a tiny village in the mountains about eight
miles beyond Ho-shun, a city of considerable size in the very center
of the province. Tai-yuan-fu, the capital, at the end of the
railway, is a famous place for pigs; but they have been hunted so
persistently in recent years that few remain within less than two or
three days' journey from the city.

It was a three days' trip from the railroad to Ho-shun, and there
was little of interest to distinguish the road from any other in
north China. It is always monotonous to travel with pack animals or
carts, for they go so slowly that you can make only two or three
miles an hour, at bes