His Majesty’s hobby was hunting, and no sooner had I made my bow than he began a conversation on that subject, thrusting his hands nearly up to the elbows into the pockets of his trousers.  He desired to learn about the large game of America, particularly the buffalo, and when I spoke of the herds of thousands and thousands I had seen on the plains of western Kansas, he interrupted me to bemoan the fate which kept him from visiting America to hunt, even going so far as to say that “he didn’t wish to be King of Italy, anyhow, but would much prefer to pass his days hunting than be bedeviled with the cares of state.”  On one of his estates, near Pisa, he had several large herds of deer, many wild boars, and a great deal of other game.  Of this preserve he was very proud, and before we separated invited me to go down there to shoot deer, adding that he would be there himself if he could, but feared that a trip which he had to take to Milan would interfere, though he wished me to go in any event.

I gladly accepted the invitation, and in two or three days was notified when I would be expected at the estate.  At the designated time I was escorted to Pisa by an aide-de-camp, and from there we drove the few miles to the King’s chateau, where we fortified ourselves for the work in hand by an elaborate and toothsome breakfast of about ten courses.  Then in a carriage we set out for the King’s stand in the hunting-grounds, accompanied by a crowd of mounted game-keepers, who with great difficulty controlled the pack of sixty or seventy hounds, the dogs and keepers together almost driving me to distraction with their yelping and yelling.  On reaching the stand, I was posted within about twenty’ yards of a long, high picket-fence, facing the fence and covered by two trees very close together.  It was from behind these that the King usually shot, and as I was provided with a double-barreled shot-gun, I thought I could do well, especially since close in rear of me stood two game-keepers to load and hand me a second gun when the first was emptied.

Meantime the huntsmen and the hounds had made a circuit of the park to drive up the game.  The yelps of the hounds drawing near, I cautiously looked in the direction of the sound, and the next moment saw a herd of deer close in to the fence, and coming down at full speed.  Without a miss, I shot the four leading ones as they tried to run the gauntlet, for in passing between the stand and the fence, the innocent creatures were not more than ten to fifteen paces from me.  At the fourth I stopped, but the gamekeepers insisted on more butchery, saying, “No one but the King ever did the like” (I guess no one else had ever had the chance), so, thus urged, I continued firing till I had slaughtered eleven with eleven shots—­an easy task with a shot-gun and buckshot cartridges.