The manifold interests of the day, however, far more than compensated for the drawbacks of even dust and bumping, which is saying a great deal. A member of one of the Legations had kindly undertaken to show me the various points of interest to the north-west of the city, and we agreed to try and escape some heat by starting at 3.30 A.M., at which hour I was accordingly ready, waiting in the courtyard to open the gate. It was a most lovely morning, the clear moonlight mingling with the dawn, and the air fresh and pleasant. I had full leisure to enjoy it, for the carter, who had promised to be at the Japanese Legation by three, was wrapped in slumber. So my companion had to begin his day's work by a two miles' walk to fetch me. Luckily, my carter had been more faithful, so we started in very fair time; indeed, I profited by the delay, for as we passed through the great northern gate, there on the dusty plain—just outside the walls—we came in for a grand review of the Eight Banners, by Prince Poah of the Iron Crown. Such a pretty, animated scene, with all these Tartar regiments galloping about, and their gay standards flashing through the smoke of artillery and the dust-clouds, which seem to blend the vast plain with the blue distant hills and the great gray walls and huge three-storied keep which forms the gateway. The latter is that Anting Gate of which we heard so much at the time when it was given up to the British army after the sacking of the Summer Palace; not, however, till their big guns were planted on the raised terraces within the sacred park of the Temple of Earth, all ready to breach the walls. The Prince's large blue tent was pitched on a slightly rising ground apart from the others, and was constantly surrounded by gorgeous officers in bright yellow raiment, with round, flat black hats and long feathers, who were galloping to and fro, directing grand charges of cavalry. It did seem so funny to see a whole army of ponies; for there are no horses here, unless the foreign residents chance to import any. These Eight Banners are all Manchus or Mongol Tartars, or at any rate are descended from such, Chinese troops being ranged under the green standard. These Eight Banners which, as I have said, are multiplied, are plain white, red, blue, and yellow, and the same colors repeated, and distinguished by a white edge and white spot. These companies are supposed to defend different sides of the city, the colors having some mystic relation to the points of the compass; except that yellow is in the middle, where it guards the Imperial Palace. Red guards the south, blue the north, and white the west, whilst the east is nominally given up to the green standard, which, however, being composed of Chinamen, is not admitted to the honor of guarding the forbidden city. I am told that the Banner Army numbers upwards of a hundred thousand men, who supply Tartar garrisons for the principal cities of the Empire.