game, with which the country teems, are substituted for the fruit. At Yangsun were a number of Chasseurs d’Afrique, whose regiment was quartered in the vicinity. Trains passed us; the carriages crowded with troops of all nations, the trucks filled with horses, guns and military stores, or packed with grinning Chinamen. At last, between the trees, glimpses of yellow‐tiled roofs flashing in the sunlight told us that we were nearing the capital. Leaning from the windows we saw, apparently stretching right across the track, a long, high wall, with buttresses and lofty towers at intervals. It was the famous Wall of Pekin. Suddenly a large gap seemed to open in it; the train glided through, and we found ourselves in the middle of a large city as we slowed down alongside a platform on which stood a board with the magic word “Pekin.” We had reached our journey’s end. On the other side of the line was a broad, open space, through which ran a wide road paved with large stone flags. Over it flowed an incessant stream of carts, rickshas, and pedestrians. Behind the station ran a long wall which enclosed the Temple of Heaven, where, after General Gaselee’s departure, the British headquarters in Pekin were established. On the platform we found a half‐caste guide waiting for us, sent to meet us by friends in the English Legation. Resigning our luggage to him and directing him to convey it to the one hotel the capital possessed, we determined to begin our sightseeing at once and walked towards the gateway of the enclosure in which stands the Temple of Heaven. On entering, we found ourselves in a large and well‐wooded demesne. Groves of tall trees, leafy rides, and broad stretches of turf made it seem more like an English park than the grounds of a Chinese temple. Long lines of tents, crossed lances, and picketed horses marked the camp of a regiment of Bengal cavalry; for in the vast enclosure an army might bivouac with ease. Here was held the historic British assault‐at‐arms, when foreign officers were roused to enthusiasm at the splendid riding of our Indian cavalry and the marvellous skill of the Royal Horse Artillery as they swung their teams at full speed round the marks in the driving competitions. Apropos of the latter corps a story is told of Field‐Marshal Von Waldersee’s introduction to them at the first review he held of British troops at Tientsin. When the horse gunners came thundering down towards the saluting base in a cloud of dust, their horses stretching to a mad gallop, the guns bounding behind them like things of no weight but with every muzzle in line, the German Commander‐in‐Chief is said to have burst into admiring exclamation: “Splendid! Marvellous!” he cried. As they flew past the old man huddled up on his charger, he started in surprise and peered forward.