A walk through the town--Still alive--The Red Cross--A pandemonium--Dividing loot--A pawnshop--Furs, gold and silk embroideries.

I took a stroll through the town. The streets were narrow, and everywhere you could smell dead bodies decomposing in the fearful heat. You saw plenty of them about. Here you stumbled over a dead Boxer, there, two or three Imperial soldiers lay in a heap, fearfully gashed by a shell. Did you not hear a moan? Listen! Yes! That fat Chinaman lying in a pool of blood was still alive. As I stooped over him to ask him if he wanted some water--the only assistance one could render him--he closed his eyes. He did not answer, and held his breath, pretending to be dead. Many were the poor devils that were left about to die for want of assistance, as the Red Cross did not extend its work to the Chinese.

Avoiding the streets where all the houses were on fire, and peeping into every door--where one saw sights of all kinds--here we were at last before a large gateway, into and out of which a crowd of Europeans, Pathans, Americans, and Chinese were madly rushing. The fellows who violently forced their way in had nothing, those who were shot out by the people pushing behind them were balancing with difficulty, on their heads or upstretched arms, large boxes overflowing with goods, or large bundles, or handfuls of jewellery or furs. This promised to be an interesting sight. I went in. The pressure of the crowd was extreme. One ran short of breath almost to suffocation. Going through the door--the narrowest point, where every one was trying to get in at once--one felt one’s ribs were giving way to the pressure in front, behind, and sideways, but at last, when once inside the building, a large, dark hall, one could breathe freely again, wipe the copious perspiration running down forehead, cheeks, and neck, and sit down on the floor for a while to take the needed rest.

[Sidenote: MORE LOOTING]

But what a noise! the buzzing of the crowd fighting its way in and out, and running through this hall and out into the next portion of the building, the din of metal being tested on the stone floor, the wild cries and yells of looters who in their turn were looted by neighbouring looters, crossed and mingled with one another. Coming from the brilliant sun, your eyes needed to become accustomed to the light of this first hall; then you saw to your right a number of European soldiers squatting down, counting silver coins, of which they had a pile, sorting out jewellery, of which they had another pile, and big lumps of silver, of which they had a third pile. There were about eight of them, and according to the general idea I suppose they ought to have quarrelled, even fought with revolvers in hand, over the fair division of the stolen property, but they did not. They were as quiet, as well-behaved, as matter-of-fact over their employment as so many honest men! One might have thought that they were carrying on a legal brotherly trade, of which they were now sharing the due profits.

Once in the human current, one pushed his way through the next door. One was lifted right off one’s feet, and, if one was fortunate enough to avoid being jammed against either pillar of the door, one found oneself in a spacious courtyard crammed with people, empty trunks, boxes, baskets, clothes, hats, broken furniture and china, pewter candlesticks, bronzes and goods of every description scattered pell-mell everywhere. Apparently the chief point of interest was yet further on. All the people were forcing their way into the next building. Gradually working one’s way, one succeeded in penetrating into a huge room, but so dark that it took some time before one could see anything at all, though there was plenty to hear!

What pandemonium! and how the eyes smarted and ached from the dust and dirt with which the air seemed thick, while throats were dry and coughing. Eventually, when my eyes got accustomed to the dim light, I stooped to see where I was putting my feet, for priceless brocades, bronze candlesticks, furs, and other such things, were underfoot. A large box dropped from close to the ceiling, some thirty feet above, and came within an inch of striking me on the head. I say that it came from near the ceiling, for on looking up to remonstrate I perceived a Pathan, who had climbed to the top of the bamboo scaffolding that served as shelves, into which the room had been divided, leaving narrow passages between scaffold and scaffold. This man, regardless of the safety of his fellow beings standing below, dropped another large box, no less than four feet square and two deep, which, like the preceding one, burst right open on striking the ground. Here a dozen arms outstretched from all sides pulled at valuable furs, such as silver fox, otter, white wolf, seal, squirrel, all lining gaudy coats of magnificent brocade or silk. Some were embroidered in gold, others in delicate silks, and were the patient work of years.

[Sidenote: EMBROIDERIES, FURS, ETC.]

The Pathan, climbing down with the agility of a monkey from his high point of vantage, was just in time to snatch out of the box a bundle containing silver coins, a gold comb, several gold rings, two bracelets, and various other trinkets. He now threw the empty box aside and proceeded to inspect the contents of the first box, which was below.

I never saw such lovely furs. Here were two most beautiful long coats of yellow brocade, lined with white Persian unborn lamb, and yet another coat of the best Tibetan goat. As the Mahommedan dived further and further into the box, out came more sealskin, more silver fox, astrachan, more magnificent embroideries.

“They are beautiful,” I remarked in Hindustani to the Pathan.

“_Neh, Sahib, bura crab!_” (“No, sir, they are very bad!”) he answered, with a disappointed air. He, too, cared for nothing but gold and silver. Everything else was of no value to him. He threw all aside and proceeded to undo the numberless bundles that were stacked on the tall shelves to his right. These too, to his disgust, contained only silks and brocades, or rolls of silk crape.

The noise, dust, and heat inside the room were unbearable, and when to all this was added the sight of several prominent Tientsin residents, of no mean rotund proportions, climbing overhead to the top shelves (the lower ones having already been looted), I thought it was high time for me to depart. I forced my way out of the pawnshop--for it was a pawnshop--and when I got out into the open the stifling air seemed quite cool and refreshing by comparison with the foul temperature indoors. It is well known that pawnshops in China do not exactly correspond to ours, but are used more as storehouses by all the natives, rich and poor alike. In winter all the summer clothes, jewels, &c., are stored in them for safe keeping and preservation, and in summer all the furs and warm clothing. Money and valuables not needed are also left in safe keeping of these pawnshops, which are under Government supervision.