babbling all around, the whole earth is shaking with them. Yet it is a
very local affair--a thing concerning only a tiny portion of a
half-known corner of the world. But for us it is sufficiently grave.
The Peking-Paotingfu railway is being rapidly destroyed; Fentai
station, but six miles from Peking--think of it, only six miles from
this Manchu holy of holies--has gone up in flames; a great steel
bridge has succumbed to the destroying energy of dynamite. All the
European engineers have fled into Peking; and, worst of all, the Boxer
banners have been unfurled; and lo and behold, as they floated in the
breeze, the four dread characters, "_Pao Ch'ing Mien Yang_," have been
read on blood-red bunting--"Death and destruction to the foreigner and
all his works and loyal support to the great Ching dynasty."

Is that sufficiently enthralling, or should I add that the
invulnerability of the Boxer has been officially and indisputably
tested by the Manchus, according to the gossip of the day? Proceeding
to the Boxer camp at Chochou, duly authorised officers of the Crown
have seen recruits, who have performed all the dread rites, and are
initiated, stand fearlessly in front of a full-fledged Boxer; have
seen that Boxer load up his blunderbuss with powder, ramming down a
wad on top; have witnessed a handful of iron buckshot added, but with
no wad to hold the charge in place; have noticed that the master Boxer
gesticulated with his lethal weapon the better to impress his audience
before he fired, but have not noticed that the iron buckshot tripped
merrily out of the rusty barrel since no wad held it in place; and
finally, when the fire-piece belched forth flames and ear-breaking
noise at a distance of a man's body from the recruit's person, they
have seen, and with them thousands of others, that no harm came. It is
astounding, miraculous, but it is true; henceforth, the Boxer is
officially invulnerable and must remain so as long as the ground is