The native troops from India, seeing all these strange scenes around them, and quickly contaminated by the force of bad example, are most curious to watch.  When they are off duty they now select a good corner along the beaten tracks where people can travel in safety, squat down on their heels, spread a piece of cloth, and display thereon all the lumps of silver, porcelain bowls, vases and other things which they have managed to capture.  You can sometimes see whole rows of them thus engaged.  The Chinese Mohammedans, of whom there are in normal times many thousands in Peking, have found that they can venture forth in safety in all the districts occupied by Indian troops once they put on turbans to show that they are followers of Islam; and now they may be seen in bands every day, with white and blue cloths swathed round their heads in imitation of those they see on the heads of their fellow-religionists, going to fraternise with all the Mussulmans of the Indian Army.  It is these Chinese Mohammedans who now largely serve as intermediaries between the population and the occupation troops.  They are buying back immense quantities of the silver and silks in exchange for foodstuffs and other things.  A number of streets are now safe as long as it is light, and along these people are beginning to move with more and more freedom.  But as soon as it is dark the uproar begins again.  The Chinese have had time now, however, to hide all the valuables that have been left them.  Everything is being buried as quickly as possible in deep holes, and search parties now go out armed with spades and picks, and try to purchase informers by promising a goodly share of all finds made.  It is really an extraordinary condition....

V

SETTLING DOWN

End of August, 1900.

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It shows how little is still generally known of what is going on in our very midst, and low disordered things really are, when I say that I only learned to-day that the whole city—­in fact, every part of it—­has been duly divided up some time ago by the Allied Commanders into districts—­one district being assigned to every Power of importance that has brought up troops.  They are trying to organise military patrols and a system of police to stop the looting, which shows no signs of abating.  Everybody is crazy now to get more loot.  Every new man says that he only wants a few trifles, but as soon as he has a few he must, of course, have more, and thus the ball continues rolling indefinitely....  Nothing will stop it.

Yesterday, just as a man of the British Legation was telling me that the system was really all right, that it was, in fact, a working system which would soon be productive of results, and that the bad part was over, a huge Russian convoy debouched into the street where we were standing.  It was a curious mixture of green-painted Russian army-waggons and captured Chinese country carts, and every vehicle was loaded to its maximum capacity with loot.  The convoy had come in from the direction of the Summer Palace, and was accompanied by such a small escort of infantrymen that I should not have cared to insure them against counter-attacks on the road from any marauders who might have seen them in a quiet spot.  A dozen mounted men of resolution could have cut them up.