The boys had come to Peking on camel-back, a camel made from the magic rope. As Amos had never seen a real camel, he thought the rope animal quite natural, and as remarkable a creature as a real one. Chris took care to make it or disentangle it out of Amos's sight, and so many were the strange and wonderful things to be seen, that Amos had no time to concern himself over the reality of a camel. The arid countryside was blanched by the excessive heat. Flies droned over the dates and figs that the boys pulled from their pockets to eat. Amos wriggled with excitement as he pointed out details to Chris. "Chris! Look at that procession going in the big gate! All those pigtailed gentlemen dressed in embroidered coats. I like that blue one with butterflies on it. No, I'd sooner have the black satin one with the dragon in red and yellow!" He looked again more closely. "Or the one with the peacock in green and purple. Which would you sooner have?" Chris paid little attention to Amos's exclamations. Leaning on his elbows and looking at the scene below, his mind worked busily on these last vital problems. But Amos was not waiting for an answer. His mind was on the present moment and the present scene, forgetful of what lay ahead of them, a few hours away. He chattered on. "I like their funny black hats and droopy mustaches. Why don't they look like us, Chris?" he asked. And then, "Who-all's in the curtained stretcher they're carrying?" [Illustration] "It's a palanquin, Amos. They carry dignitaries in them." "Hate to be a dignitary in all this heat," Amos said, unenviously. "What are they doing now?" he enquired, and both boys parted the prickly pine needles to look out and down. The leader of the procession rapped three times on the great gate with a gold staff. Sentinels and guards came forward, walking on the broad gate top, and after talking with the members of the procession, turned to give an order. [Illustration] Gaily dressed trumpeters with dragon masks on the visors of their helmets raised long brass trumpets. A prolonged throbbing "Wai! Wo!" shuddered out, and the great outer gates of the palace, studded with pronged spikes of carved metal, swung slowly outward. Sixteen men came into sight, eight on either side, pushing wide the gates. "Gee! Imagine the weight of those doors!" Chris murmured, and taking out his spyglass looked through it. "Golly Moses!" he exclaimed. "Take a look, Amos. Those gates are made of bronze, nearly three feet thick! And now they have the gates open, look at the depth of the walls. They're as deep through as a room!"