still creep into our holes. The youngest were moaning and tossing, as
they have done every night for weeks past--shaking off sleep like a
harmful narcotic, because the poison of fighting is too strong for
most blood in these degenerate days. What sounds have I not heard
during the past two months--what sighs, what gasps, what groans, what
muttered protests! When men lie asleep, their imaginations betray
their secret thoughts....

Day had not broken properly before the murmur and movements of the
night before rose again. This time, as I looked around me, they were
more marked--as if the relieving forces had become half accustomed to
their strange surroundings, and were acting with the freedom of
familiarity. There were bugle-calls and trumpet-calls, the neighing
and whinnying of horses, the rumble of heavy waggons, calls and
cries.... But hidden by the high walls and the barricades, nothing
could be seen. We got something to eat, and, wishing to explore, I
marched down to the dry canal-bed, jumped in, and made for the
Water-Gate, through which the first men had come. In a few steps I was
outside the Tartar Wall, for the first time for nearly three long
months. At last there was something to be seen. Far along here, there
were nothing but bivouacs of soldiery moving uneasily like ants
suddenly disturbed, and as I tramped through the sand towards the
great Ch'ien Men Gate I could see columns of other men, already in
movement, though day had just come, winding in and out from the outer
Chinese city. Thick pillars of smoke, that hung dully in the morning
air, were rising in the distance as if fire had been set to many
buildings; but apart from these marching troops there was not a living
soul to be seen. The ruins and the houses had become mere landmarks
and the city a veritable desert.