Meanwhile the other Allies, roused by the sound of heavy firing, were lost in amazement as to its meaning; and dawn came before the truth was known. The British and Americans then attacked the Chinese city and met with a less stubborn resistance. An entry effected, the Indian troops wandered through the maze of streets until met by a messenger sent out from the Legations to guide them. He led them through the water‐gate, the tunnel in the wall between the Tartar and the Chinese city, which serves as an exit for the drain or nullah passing between the English and the Japanese Legations, and so right into the arms of the besieged Europeans. Thus they arrived first to the relief, while the Japanese and Russians were still fighting in the streets. But every nation whose army was represented in the Allied Forces claims the credit of being foremost of all into the Legations. I have read the diary of the commander of the Russian marines in the siege, in which he speaks of the arrival of the Czar’s troops to the relief and completely ignores the presence of the other Allies. And in pictures that I have seen in Japan of the entry of the relievers, the besieged are shown rushing out to throw themselves on the necks of the victorious Japanese, whose uniform is the only one represented. But, while the brunt of the fighting fell on them and the Russians, the Indian troops were actually the first to reach the Legations. As we rode up to the gate through which the soldiers of Japan had fought their way so gallantly, a guard of their sturdy little infantrymen at it sprang to attention. For it and the quarter near was in the charge of their contingent, and their flag, with its red ball on a white ground, was to be seen everywhere around. The sentry brought his rifle to the present with the jerky movement and wooden precision of an automatic figure. Returning the salute, we clattered through the long tunnel of the gateway and emerged beyond the walls of the city. Here began a wide road, paved with large stone flags, which runs for an immense distance through the country, stopping short at the threshold of the capital. It was bordered in places by hedges of graceful bamboos with their long feathery leaves. Elsewhere a narrow ditch divided the roadway from the fertile fields, where tall crops of _kowliang_ (a species of millet) rose higher than a mounted man’s head, almost completely hiding the houses of tiny hamlets. Over the stone flags, sparks flashing from under our ponies’ hoofs, we clattered past crowds of coolies trudging towards the city, long lines of roughly built carts laden with country produce, or an occasional long‐queued farmer perched on the back of his diminutive steed.