Part 7 (2/2)
_Boom_--_Crash_!
There was the report of a heavy gun, whose concussion made the wooden houses on each side jar and quiver as it literally ran up the narrow street, and, to our astonishment, we saw the little mob turn on the instant and begin to run, showing us, instead of their fierce savage faces, so many black pigtails; the mandarin's men, though, last.
”Hooray!” we yelled after them, and they ran the faster.
”Now, velly quick,” panted Ching. ”Come back again soon.”
We uttered another shout, and hurried along the lane to the princ.i.p.al street, turned at right angles, and began to hurry along pretty rapidly now, Ching marching beside us with the big sword over his shoulder.
But the scare was only temporary, the tremendous report was not repeated, and before a minute had elapsed, our guide, who kept glancing back, cried--
”Now, lun velly fast. Come along catchee catchee, and no big gun go shoot this time.”
He was quite right, and we took to our heels, with the yelling mob close at hand, and so many people in front, that we felt certain of being run down long before we could reach the waterside.
”And no chance for us when we do,” muttered Barkins from close behind me. ”Oh, if a couple of dozen of our lads were only here! Why didn't they send 'em?” he panted, ”instead of firing as a signal for us to go back on board.”
CHAPTER THREE.
CUTTING IT CLOSE.
My messmate uttered these words close to my ears in a despairing tone as we dashed on, and now I saw Ching strike to his right, while I made a cut or two at my left, as men started from the sides and tried to trip us up.
I was growing faint with the heat down in that narrow, breathless street, my clothes stuck to me, and Barkins' heavy telescope banged heavily against my side, making me feel ready to unfasten the strap and let it fall. But I kept on for another fifty yards or so with our enemies yelling in the rear, and the waterside seeming to grow no nearer.
”Keep together, lads,” cried Barkins excitedly. ”It can't be far now.
We'll seize the first boat we come to, and the tide will soon take us out of their reach.”
But these words came in a broken, spasmodic way, for, poor fellow, he was as out of breath as any of us.
”Hoolay! Velly lit' way now,” cried Ching; and then he finished with a howl of rage, for half-a-dozen armed men suddenly appeared from a gateway below us, and we saw at a glance that they were about to take sides with the rest.
”Lun--lun,” yelled Ching, and, flouris.h.i.+ng his sword, he led us right at the newcomers, who, startled and astounded by our apparent boldness, gave way, and we panted on, utterly exhausted, for another fifty yards, till Ching suddenly stopped in an angle of the street formed by a projecting house.
”No lun. No, no!” he panted. ”Fight--kill.”
Following his example, we faced round, and our bold front checked the miserable gang of wretches, who stopped short a dozen yards from us, their numbers swelled by the new party, and waited yelling and howling behind the swordsmen, who stood drawing up their sleeves, and brandis.h.i.+ng their heavy weapons, working themselves up for the final rush, in which I knew we should be hacked to pieces.
”Good-bye, old chap,” whispered Barkins in a piteous tone, his voice coming in sobs of exhaustion. ”Give point when they come on: don't strike. Try and kill one of the cowardly beggars before they finish us.”
”Yes,” I gasped.
”Chuck that spygla.s.s down,” cried Smith; ”it's in your way.”
Gladly enough I swung the great telescope round, slipped the strap over my head, and as I did so I saw a sudden movement in the crowd.
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