If ever a man looked rugged and healthy and in splendid physical condition he certainly did on the day that this despatch reached him.

His cheeks were burned to a ruddy tan and his eyes were as clear as a plainsman's.

He laughed and joked and commented on the news that we told him with all the enthusiasm of one who knows no physical cares or worries.
[Drawing: _Reading the Report That He Had Been Killed_] "If I could have seen you an hour and a half ago," he told Akeley, "I could have got you the elephants you want for your group.

We passed within only a few yards of a herd of ten this morning, and Kermit got within thirty yards to make some photographs." They had not shot any, however, as they had received no answer to the letter sent several days before to Mr.Akeley and consequently did not know positively that his party had reached the plateau.
The colonel asked about George Ade, commented vigorously and with prophetic insight on the Cook-Peary controversy, and read aloud, in excellent dialect, a Dooley article on the subject, which I had saved from an old copy of the Chicago _Tribune_.

He commented very frankly, with no semblance at hypocrisy, on Mr.Harriman's death, told many of his experiences in the hunting field, and for three hours, at lunch and afterward, he talked with the freedom of one who was glad to see some American friends in the wilderness and who had no objection to showing his pleasure at such a meeting.
He talked about the tariff and about many public men and public questions with a frankness that compels even a newspaper man to regard as being confidential.