man in the chest, the bullet coming out by the shoulder-blade.  The wife, begging for the life of her husband, was bayoneted, and the aroused Chinese workman was dispatched with a rifle.  Then these harmless idealists proceeded to depart.  So far they had not touched the girl, but the father, on regaining consciousness, heard the closed door open again, saw the leader of the “comrades” re-enter and pick up a small axe near the fire, with which he proceeded to smash the head of the child.  Nature in its terrible revolt gave the father the power to raise himself slightly from the floor in a vain effort to grapple with this representative of the new regime.  The commissar shouted:  “What, still alive!” and fired two more point-blank shots at the prostrate man.

It was entirely due to the tenacity of the father that the object of the killing was frustrated and the identification of the scoundrels with the Bolshevik commanders operating in this neighbourhood completed.  I had no time to pick up the trail and punish the murderers.  What sort of punishment the Tommies would have decided as necessary to fit the crime is better imagined than described!

It was June when we passed over the Hinghan range, a series of sand mountains of great extent which form the breeding-ground for numerous herds of horses who spread themselves over the slopes and plains and sometimes endanger the safety of the railway.  Snow was falling in clouds, and banked itself against the rails and telegraphs in a surprising manner considering the time of the year.  The summer of this wild region lasts about two months—­July and August—­during which time the sand becomes hot, and travelling is not comfortable.  After crossing the summit the plains fell gradually away, enabling the trains to move with great rapidity, and in less than two days we struck Harbin, and donned our topees and tropical clothes.

Harbin is the centre of Chinese and Russian political and financial intrigue.  Other races take a fair hand in the business, but the predominance must be conceded to these two.  There is some sort of national feeling amongst the worst type of Russian speculator, but none amongst the Chinese.  The Harbin Chinaman is perfectly denationalised, and ought, therefore, according to some standards of political reckonings, to be the most ideal citizen in the world; but the world who knows him hopes that for ever he may be exclusively confined to Harbin.  I had a long conversation with General Ghondati, one of the most level-headed living statesmen of the old regime.  All his hopes are centred on the success of Admiral Koltchak in his efforts to secure order to enable the National Assembly to consider the question of a Constitutional Monarchy on England’s pattern to be established at Moscow.  If this cannot be, he fears Russia’s travail will last longer and may be fatal to her existence.  He was not himself opposed to a Federal Republic, but was certain that without a head the undisciplined semi-oriental elements