But as there was no report, and they saw us escaping, they began to shout one to the other, and ran to and fro, zig-zagging down the street after us, each man darting across to a fresh place of shelter.

And as the retreat went on, and no report with a rush of bullets tore up the street, the men gained courage; the mob high up began to gather again.

Then there was distant yelling and shouting, and the danger seemed to thicken.
"Is it much farther, Ching ?" cried Barkins.
"Yes, velly long way," he replied.

"No' got no levolvers ?" "No, I wish I had." "Fine levolver bull-dog in fancee shop, and plenty cahtlidge.

Walkee fast." We were walking backwards as fast as we could, and the danger increased.
In place of running right across now from shelter to shelter, the big swordsmen stopped from time to time on their way to flourish their weapons, yell, indulge in a kind of war-dance, and shout out words we did not understand.
"What do they say, Ching ?" asked Smith.
"Say chop all in lit' small piece dilectly." "Look here," cried Barkins, as the demonstrations increased, and the wretches now began to gather on each side of the street as if threatening a rush, "let's stop and have a shot at 'em." "No, no," cried Ching, "won't go off blang." "Never mind, we'll pretend it will.