A corner in the reception room of a wealthy Chinese gentleman, in Peking
Mr. Squiers formed the plan to have ten coolies, under a foreigner, go quietly at night through the alley-ways and court-yards that had been cut through to communicate with the American legation, to the moat directly under the Chinese on the wall. From thence we were to crawl forward toward the barricade, where our men were warned not to fire upon us, tie a rope around a mule, slip back toward the moat, and drag the mule after us, and down into the moat, where it could subsequently be covered with kerosene oil and burned.
With ten volunteer coolies, all dressed in dark clothes, and warned not to speak or even whisper, I undertook the task.
We reached the position on the wall street without incident, and I was congratulating myself we would succeed without the Chinese discovering us, when one of the coolies unfortunately struck his foot against a tin can and sent it rattling across the road. Instantly a volley was fired upon us from the Chinese barricade, only some fifty yards distant, and a perfect hail of bullets struck all about us.
“Drop on your faces and lie still,” I commanded in a hoarse whisper, which was promptly obeyed.
We lay still for about fifteen minutes. Then I sent one coolie crawling on toward the nearest mule, only ten yards away, and he soon had the noose slipped over his head and returned.
We dragged the animal quietly enough, until just at the corner of the bridge, where a lot of tins, bottles, and refuse had been dumped in the early days of the siege, and before the Chinese had obtained their present position by driving the Germans from the wall in the rear of their legation.
When the animal passed over these obstacles a loud grating, rattling noise was made, and a second volley poured down from the wall. But this time the corners of the stone bridge protected us and we were in no danger.
After another wait of fifteen minutes, during which time all became quiet again, we returned and repeated the operation on the second mule, dragging his fragrant (?) carcass alongside the first, and completing our work under a third volley, equally harmless.