evidently in store for us. So, anxious to regain the capital before it could break, we returned to the palace, bade a hurried farewell to our kind hosts, and mounted our ponies. Back through the fields and on to the paved highway we rode at a steady pace, our ponies, refreshed by the long halt and eager to reach their stables, trotting out willingly. The storm held off, and as we came in view of the gate of Pekin, we congratulated ourselves on our good fortune. But suddenly, without a moment's warning, sheets of water fell from the dark sky. In went our spurs, and we raced madly for the shelter of the gateway. But long before we reached it we were soaked through and through. Our boots were filled with water, the broad brims of our pith hats hung limply over our eyes, and we were as thoroughly wet as though we had swum the Peiho.

Under the tunnelled gateway we dismounted. The water simply poured from us, and formed in pools on the stone flags where we stood. We found ourselves in a damp crowd of jostling, grinning Chinamen, who were cheerfully wringing the moisture from their thin cotton garments or laughing at the plight of others caught in the storm and racing for shelter through the ropes of rain. Coolies, carts, ponies, mules, and camels were all huddled together under the archway. Jests and mirth resounded on every side; for the Celestial is generally a veritable Mark Tapley under circum

stances that would depress or irritate the more impatient European.

We waited for an hour beside our shivering ponies for the deluge to cease; then, seeing little prospect of it, we mounted again and rode on into the city. But short as was the time the rain had lasted, the streets were already almost flooded. The ditch-like sides were half filled with rushing, muddy torrents; and in crossing one of the principal roads the water rose up to our saddle-girths in the side channels. In one place my pony was nearly carried off his feet and I feared that I would be obliged to swim for it. From the shelter of the verandahs of the houses along the streets crowds of Chinese laughed at our miserable plight, as our small steeds splashed through the pools and their riders sat huddled up in misery under the pitiless rain. With heartfelt gratitude we reached at last the welcome shelter of Chong Wong Foo. So ended our visit to the famous Summer Palace, which is once more in the possession of its former owner. The courts that echoed to the ring of artillery horses' hoofs, the rumble of our gunwheels, the deep laughter of the British soldier, or the shriller voices of his sepoy comrades, are now trodden only by silent-footed Celestials. The white man is no more a welcome guest.

CHAPTER VII

A TRIP TO SHANHAIKWAN

HE railways throughout North China and

THE

were

Manchuria were originally constructed chiefly by British capital; and England had consequently priority of claim upon them. The line from Pekin runs first to the sea at Tong-ku, at the mouth of the Peiho River, thence branching off northward along the coast to Newchwang, the treaty port of Manchuria. Its continuation passes southward from Newchwang to Port Arthur. At the beginning of the campaign in North China it was seized by the Russians and held by them until diplomatic pressure loosened their grasp. Instead of restoring it direct to the British, they handed over to the Germans the railway as far north as Shanhaikwan, a town on the coast where the famous Great Wall of China ends in the sea; but they retained in their own possession that portion between Shanhaikwan and Newchwang. The Germans then held on to the remainder until they were eventually restored to the British.

Shanhaikwan thus became the natural boundary between the territory under the sway of the

Russians and the country in the combined occupation of the Allies. The Czar's servants had laid covetous eyes upon it; for its position and a number of strong and well-armed forts which had been constructed by the Chinese rendered it an important point d'appui whence to dominate North China. So a powerful Russian force was despatched by land to seize these fortifications; but it was forestalled by the smart action of the British Admiral, who sent a gunboat, the Pigmy, to Shanhaikwan. The captain of this little craft audaciously demanded and actually received the surrender of the forts; so that when the Russians arrived they found, to their intense surprise, the Union Jack flying from the ramparts. Eventually, to avoid dissensions, the various forts were divided among the Allies.

Previous to my departure on a long-projected trip to Japan-seeing a little of Manchuria and Corea en route-I joined a small party of officers who had arranged to pay a flying visit to Shanhaikwan. With light luggage and the roll of bedding without which the Anglo-Indian seldom travels in the East, we entrained at Tientsin. A couple of hours sufficed to bring us to Tong-ku, where the railway branches off to the north. The platform was thronged with a bustling crowd of the soldiers of many nations, the place being the disembarkation port for the Continental, the American, and the Japanese troops. In the station buildings the

British officers in charge of that section of the railway and of the detachments guarding it had established a mess. As we had some time to wait before the departure of the train to Shanhaikwan, they warmly welcomed us within its hospitable, if narrow, walls.

When the warning bell summoned us to take our places, we established ourselves in a comfortable first-class carriage-partly saloon, partly coupé. I may mention that during the occupation of North China by the Allies the wearers of uniform travelled free everywhere on the railways. Among our fellow-passengers were some Japanese naval officers, a German or two, a few Russians, and an old friend of mine, Lieutenant Hutchinson, of H. M.S. Terrible, who had served with the Naval Brigade in the defence of Tientsin. He had just returned from a trip to Japan, and was full of his adventures in the Land of the Geisha.

The railway to Shanhaikwan runs at first close to the sea through a monotonous stretch of mud flats, and then reaches a most fertile country with walled villages and substantially built houses. It was guarded by the 4th Punjaub Infantry, detachments of which occupied the stations along the line. Not long before, this fine regiment had been engaged in a punitive expedition against the brigands who had slain Major Browning. After a severe fight they captured the fortified villages held by 4,000 well-armed banditti, and terribly avenged their