of more loopholed barricades; for the Germans link hands with the
French and Austrians, just as they on their part link up with the
little colonel of the Su wang-fu. But the Germans are not in force at
their own Legation; they are merely using it as their base, for it is
only by means of the Peking Club, whose grounds run sheer back, that
they touch the priceless Tartar Wall. Spread-eagled along a very
indifferently barricaded line, the marines of the German Sea Battalion
now lie in an angry frame of mind dangerous for everyone. They have
felt hurt ever since the loss of their Minister, and the men are
recklessly desperate. On the Tartar Wall itself they are exposed to a
dusting fire from the great Ha-ta Towers that loom up half a mile from
them, and men are already falling. A three-inch gun commenced firing
in the morning--nobody but the Wall posts noticed it at first--and now
overhead whiz with that odd shaking of the air so hard to explain
these light but dangerous projectiles. Happily it is rather a modern
gun, and the Chinese, unaccustomed to the flat trajectory, are firing
far too high. I noticed as I crept along that the shells fell
screaming into the Imperial city a mile or two away. If they only get
the range!

Far along the Tartar Wall, towards the Ch'ien Men Gate, yellow dots
could be indistinctly seen. These were the Americans, in their slouch
hats and khaki suits, lying on the ground and facing the enemy's fire
in the other direction. Held in check by the Germans and Americans in
two feeble posts of a few men each, the Chinese commanders cannot get
their men along the Tartar Wall, and command the Legations that crouch
below. Perhaps that is why playing is only going on and no assaults.
Now sobbing, now gurgling, the bullets pass thickly enough overhead
here, sometimes in dense flights like angry wild-fowl, sometimes
speeding in quick succession after one another as if they were all