WE had relied upon our tents as a sufficient protection at least from rain and dew, but they were now in a miserable condition, torn by wind and spoiled by rain. For the sixty days since our landing we had lived in tents. All the circumstances had been against our securing other quarters. Chinese villages have seldom many houses, only three or four together, here and there; they are not at all adapted for accommodating a large army. If sometimes we happened to spend a night under the eaves of a house, sheltered from inclement weather, but smelling all the time the unsavory odor of pigs and garlic, it seemed as great a luxury as sleeping under silk comfortables in an elegant room at home. Tents were our ordinary dwelling; one sheet of canvas was everything to us, shutting off wind and rain, and making our condition far better than if we had been obliged to lie in the damp open fields with the earth as our bed. But this all-important canvas could no longer do anything except serve the purpose of covering us from the sun’s rays. It allowed the merciless rain to tease us, and the angry winds to chastise us freely, for what offense we did not know. Though it kept off the scorching sun, it yielded before wind and rain. Our bodies could bear the rage of the elements; but how could we protect our rations and our guns against the weather? These things were as important to us as life itself. We had no other place of shelter, not even a tree to protect us. Crying and lamenting were of no use. If it could not be helped, we could at least sleep a good sleep exposed to rain, and lose our fatigue from the day’s work in pleasant dreams. If any one could have stolen a glance at our sleeping faces on such a night, what a sight would have greeted his eyes! There we lay fully clothed, with long disheveled hair and unshaven faces, looking like beggars or mountain bandits, our tanned skins covered with dust and grime. We were terribly emaciated, our only delight was in eating. Whenever we had time, our thoughts turned to the question: What can we get to eat? “Have you anything good?” “No, _you_ must have something nice; do give me some.” These were the usual forms of greeting when we met. Sometimes when our mouths were too lonely we roasted peas, beans, or corn and would chew them, making sounds like rats biting something hard. Such an experience showed us what a life of luxury we had been living at home.