AN ANECDOTE 117 



Tsi', however, reviled him openly, refused his 

 offer with curses, and told the old man he was 

 going his own way. Finally he entered the house 

 during his father's absence, stole his gun, and one 

 or two odds and ends he thought might be useful, 

 and departed with his wife to a solitary hut on 

 the mountain side. 



Wei-sha never hunted with Lao now, for he 

 was useless and thought of nothing but his opium 

 pipe. Also Lao gave him black looks whenever 

 they met, and consorted openly with Tsi, who 

 had always been Wei-sha's enemy, and was jealous 

 of his reputation as a hunter. 



Now he laughed at him, and said that he could 

 not even stalk the tame yaks which grazed on the 

 hill-side. 



One day a neighbour came and told Tsi's father 

 that Lao and his son were down in the fields, for 

 the harvest was drawing near. 



" Ah," thought the old man, " I will go and see 

 if I can find my gun in the hut of that rascally 

 son of mine ! " So off he went. 



The hut was empty, for Tsi's wife was in the 

 fields also. The old man searched in vain for his 

 gun amongst the litter which cumbered the room. 

 A pile of bedding lay in one corner, and there he 

 looked last. No gun was hidden amongst it, but 

 from one corner of the quilt fell a little twist of 

 paper. Wong, that was the old man's name, 

 picked it up. He turned it in his hand, this way 

 and that, but could make nothing of it, for he was 

 no scholar, and the strange, sprawling characters 

 conveyed no meaning to him. For some time he 

 puzzled over it, and then putting it into his deerskin 



