The next moment he had whirled it up with both hands, when-- _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 principal 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.".