Probably incidents like this account for the outpost duels which are hourly proceeding, in spite of all the Tsung-li Yamen despatches and the unending mutual assurances.  Many of our men shoot immediately they see a Chinese rifle or a Chinese head in the hopes of adding another scalp to their tale.  In any case, this does no harm.  It seems to me that only the resolution of the outposts, acting independently, and sometimes even in defiance to orders from headquarters, has kept the enemy so long at bay.  The rifle distrusts diplomacy.

This diplomatic correspondence with the Yamen is rapidly accumulating.  Many documents are now coming through from European Foreign Offices in the form of cipher telegrams, that are copied out by the native telegraphists in the usual way.  No one is being told what is in these documents; we can only guess.  The Yamen covers each message with a formal despatch in Chinese, generally begging the Ministers to commit themselves to the care of the government.  They now even propose that everyone should be escorted to Tientsin—­at once.  And yet we have learned from copies of the Peking Gazette that two members of the Yamen were executed exactly seven days ago for recommending a mild policy and making an immediate end of the Boxer regime.  It is thus impossible to see how it will end.  Our fate must ultimately be decided by a number of factors, concerning which we know nothing.

This breathing space is giving time, however, which is not being entirely wasted on our part.  At several points we have managed to enter into secret relations with some of the Chinese commands, and to induce traitors to begin a secret traffic in ammunition and food supplies....

It is curious how it is done.  By tunnelling through walls and houses in neglected corners, protected ways have been made into some of the nests of half-ruined native houses.  And by spending many bags of dollars, friendship has first been bought and then supplies.

The Japanese have been the most successful.  Instead of killing the soldier-spy, who had been selling them false news, they pardoned him and enlisted him in this new cause.  He has been very useful, and arranged matters with the enemy....

The other night I crept out through the secret way to the Japanese supply house to see how it was done.  There were only two little Japanese in there squatting on the ground, with several revolvers lying ready.  A shaded candle just allowed you to distinguish the torn roof, the wrecked wooden furniture.  Nobody spoke a word, and we all listened intently.

A full hour must have passed before a very faint noise was heard, and then I caught a discreet scratching.  It was the signal.  One of the little men got up and crawled forward to the door like a dog on his hands and knees.  Then I heard a revolver click—­a short pause, and the noise of a door being opened.  Then there was a tap—­tap—­tap, like the Morse code being quietly played, and the revolver clicked down again.  It was the right man.  He, too, crawled in like a dog; got up painfully, as if he were very stiff, and silently began unloading.  Then I understood why he was so stiff; he was loaded from top to bottom with cartridges.