CHAPTER XVIIIWINGEDFor the first time in twenty-four hours Burroughs felt at ease; Errington was with him, Meichow was already far behind, and there was little more to fear from the enemy. Su Fing's launch was an old steamer, incapable of effective pursuit. The only vessel of any speed at Meichow was Reinhardt's motor launch, though even in the water that could not vie with the flying boat. No doubt by this time the door of Errington's room in the yamen had been opened, and Reinhardt might have convinced the sentinel that a trick had been played upon their captain, and that he, not the insolent stranger, was the true German. But it was unlikely that he would be wholly liberated until the chief's arrival, and then it would be too late even to attempt pursuit.But all depended on the possibility of keeping the machine in good running order, and Burroughs soon began to be anxious on this score. When flying, it consumed a great deal more petrol than when used as a hydroplane, and the trial trips and the false start had deplenished his supply."I doubt whether we've got enough to carry us to Sui-Fu," he said to Errington at his side."Chia-ling Fu is still in the hands of the rebels?""It was yesterday. We shan't be safe until we reach Sui-Fu.""You had better drop, then, and run in the water. We've come too far already for them to overtake us."This seemed good advice, and Burroughs shut off the tractor and let the vessel drop gently into the water. Assisted by the current, and with the engine at little more than half speed, it skimmed along at the rate of at least twenty-five knots."I think I had better go and have a word with Chung Pi," said Burroughs to Errington. "He's in a terrible stew by the look of him.""He's done for with Su Fing, beyond doubt. Go and smooth him down as well as you can, old man."Burroughs left Errington to navigate the boat, and sat down at Chung Pi's feet, calling Chin Tai to interpret."Have the evil spirits taken possession of the thing?" asked the unhappy captain. "But no; I see that you are not perturbed in mind, honourable stranger. What is the meaning of this? Did you not see the chief's launch? Why do you not give him the boat, and the thousand dollars that your august mandarins sent to support him?""I owe you a humble apology, noble captain," replied Burroughs. "I will confess all to you, and when you have heard me, I hope you will pardon me. The prisoner there is my friend.""But you are a German!" Chung Pi interrupted."No. I am an Englishman." Chung Pi groaned. "My friend, as you know, had the ill-fortune to interfere with your chief in a little fight down-stream, and your chief very naturally got even with him as soon as he could. Since he could be released in no other way, I came up on this vessel to see what I could do. Imagine, then, my dismay when, on returning with you from our little trip, I saw the launch of a man, a German, who had been a bad friend to my friend there, and had refused to help him, though I begged him to do so, knowing his relations with your chief.""Ah! It is ill to catch a fish, and throw away the net," said Chung Pi sententiously. "But you say he is a German. Where, then, is his moustache?""Here!" said Burroughs solemnly, pointing to his upper lip.The Chinaman gasped. Bending forward, he examined the moustache closely."Such a thing I never heard of," he cried. "Are you speaking the truth? You have deceived me once and twice.""I know--I'm sorry I had to do it. The moustache was shaved from the German in an opium house, and a skilful countryman of yours fitted it to my own hairless lip."The Chinaman smiled; then he appeared to reflect."It was well done," he said presently. "Will you tell me where I can find that man?""My comprador can tell you," Burroughs replied. "Are you thinking of employing him?""I should like my moustache to grow up instead of down," said Chung Pi simply. "Yours is so much more becoming to a warrior.""If it didn't tickle so! But, noble captain, we must consider your position."Chung Pi's look of anxiety returned; in his preoccupation with this wonderful matter of the moustache he had forgotten that he too was a fugitive."Su Fing has a very hasty temper, by all accounts," Burroughs went on. "The loss of his prisoner, and your treatment of his German friend, will make him very angry with you; he will believe, no doubt, that you are a party to the whole scheme, and I'm very much afraid that it won't be safe for you to show your face at Meichow again.""Su Fing would chop off my head," said the captain ruefully."And that would be an irreparable loss," said Burroughs. ("Not like the loss of a moustache," added Chin Tai in translating.) "We are going to Sui-Fu. Will you come with us, or shall we put you down somewhere near Chia-ling Fu, and leave you to make your peace with the chief?""Not that," said Chung Pi decisively. "A fish may sport in the kettle, but his life will not be long. I will go with you to Sui-Fu. And then----"He fell into a train of deep reflection. Burroughs waited, expecting him to reveal something of what was passing in his mind; but after some minutes' silence, he said--"I feel that I have treated you very shabbily, noble captain; but perhaps if you consider what you yourself would have done in the same circumstances----""Say no more, illustrious stranger," Chung Pi interrupted, with a smile which Burroughs at the time was at a loss to understand. "I feel that I am hanging on the tail of a beautiful horse.""What does he mean?" asked Burroughs of Chin Tai, who grinned as he translated the captain's remark."Hai! He say he catchee tailo numpa one hoss," said the man; "that tell he tink he belongey some time topside fella.""Get a rise in the world? I don't quite see it.""Massa no unastand this time; some time massa savvy pidgin all same," said Chin Tai.The explanation was as obscure as the original statement; but Burroughs did not press the matter; he had caught sight of Chia-ling Fu in the distance.His intention was to run past the town at full speed. It was in the occupation of the rebels: the river was no doubt crowded with their sampans and other small craft; but the speed of the hydroplane was so great that it ought to be easy to slip past almost before the rebels were aware of their approach. When once they had run by, there was nothing in the harbour that could catch them. Then, with evening closing upon them, the remainder of the journey down to Sui-Fu would be free from peril.The Englishmen were, however, much startled when, on drawing nearer to the town, they saw, apparently anchored in mid-stream, one of the gunboats which had been lying early that morning in the river above Mei-chow. Burroughs remembered now that when he had accompanied Chung Pi down to the landing-stage the vessel had left its moorings. He had supposed that it had gone up-stream to meet the chief; but it seemed probable that it had been sent downstream to announce at Chia-ling Fu the victory which Su Fing wished his supporters to believe that he had won."This is rather awkward," said Errington. "That's the very boat that took me to Mei-chow. If they see me here they'll smell a rat.""You can duck down: then they won't see you. Besides, if they see Chung Pi they'll never dream there's anything wrong.""There's something in that; but it looks to me as if they are waiting for us. If they are they may fire before we are near enough for them to see Chung Pi."They knew the vessel well. She had been employed for some time in patrolling the river, before she was captured by the pirates. She carried a ten-pounder and a couple of machine guns. Su Fing, on arriving at his headquarters and learning what had happened, had at once telegraphed to Chia-ling Fu, ordering the gunboat to intercept the hydroplane.Almost as soon as Errington had spoken, there was a spurt of flame from the bows of the vessel, and a heavy splash in the water only twenty or thirty yards behind them. No further proof was needed that the gunboat had been lying in wait for them, and that the gunners had got the range to a nicety. Only the great speed of the hydroplane had saved it.Burroughs did not lose a moment in meeting this emergency. Throwing the differential gearing into action, he set the air tractor in motion, and managed to lift the vessel above the surface just as a second shot dashed up a shower of spray beneath him. He glanced at the banks right and left: the country was too open to give any shelter from the enemy's fire, and no matter in which direction he steered, he could hardly be safe against the gun for several minutes, when he should have succeeded in rising to an altitude at which only high-angle fire could be effective. And to make matters worse, the machine guns were brought into action, and a stream of bullets rattled and hissed around him.Chung Pi and the other Chinamen had at the first shot thrown themselves face downwards in the bottom of the boat."Straight forward, Ted; right over their heads," cried Errington, "it's the only chance. They can't use their guns then, and I'll give odds against their doing any damage with rifles."Clearly this was the best thing to be done. The next few moments were tense with excitement. The vessel rose, but it seemed to Burroughs that she had never answered so slowly to the elevating lever. Above the hum of the tractor could be heard the zip of bullets as they tore their way through the canvas of the planes and the sides of the boat. Burroughs felt a nervous dread lest a shot should reach the petrol tank or the cylinders. But the boat still rose; it was drawing rapidly nearer to the enemy, and the Englishmen held their breath with suspense.[image]RUNNING THE GAUNTLETThere fell a sudden silence. Burroughs' intention had been seen by the gunners, and as they could not lift their pieces high enough to take aim at the vessel now that it was rising, and the range altering every moment, the gunboat was slewing round as if to head down-stream. It was broadside against the stream when the flying boat flashed by at a height of sixty feet. The occupants heard the reports of several rifles; but they were now travelling at the rate of fifty or sixty miles an hour, and nothing but a shower of bullets from the machine guns had any likelihood of striking them."All right now," said Errington, with a gasp of relief, when the flying boat was a good two hundred yards down-stream, and the gunboat was still turning."I hope so," replied Burroughs.He glanced from right to left, undecided whether it would not be advisable to strike inland and return to the river lower down; for the channel was pretty straight for a long distance, and the vessel, if it flew directly forward, would still be in danger from the guns. In a few moments, however, he decided that there was even more risk in leaving the river if any mischance should happen to the boat. For one thing, the longer he flew, the more petrol he consumed; for another, if the engine failed, and he was forced to descend, on land he would be at the mercy of any wandering predatory band, whereas on the water he could always drift on the current, with some chance of safety if he did not happen to be observed. Accordingly he flew straight ahead, intending to sink upon the surface as soon as a bend in the river hid the vessel from view.In another half-minute the machine guns recommenced firing. The aim of the gunners appeared to be even wilder than before. Chung Pi and the servants had recovered courage enough to rise to their knees and peer over the edge of the canvas side at the gunboat far behind. The captain laughed as he heard the report of the guns, and made a jocular remark about the paltry skill of Su Fing's gunners. There was no longer the whistle of bullets flying around, nor the slight ripping sound of the shots passing through the planes. It seemed that all danger was over.The flying boat was now skirting the edge of the swamp in which it had been concealed by the river pirates, and Errington remembered that Burroughs had never heard the full story of that strange episode. He had been tempted to refer to the matter during the lunch with Reinhardt, but the German was in a sense their guest; and since Burroughs did not mention it, Errington said nothing. After all it was Burroughs' affair. The story would keep until they reached Sui-Fu.They were now about three-quarters of a mile from the gunboat, and Burroughs, with his eye on a bend in the course a short distance ahead, just where the painted rocks gave warning that the water-way was not clear, was congratulating himself that at that point he might safely descend. Suddenly the firing behind redoubled in fury; it seemed that the gunners had realized that in a few seconds their chance would be gone. Bullets sang around; the Chinamen again ducked their heads below the gunwale; and once or twice there were the ominous sounds of bullets tearing through the planes, or flattening themselves against the metal parts of the framework.They were within a hundred yards of safety when a double catastrophe happened. Almost at the same instant the engine ceased to work and one of the stays was cut clean through. In the excitement and anxiety of the moment Burroughs was unaware that he was wounded, and a cry uttered by Chung Pi passed quite unnoticed. The vessel tilted; for a terrible second it seemed that it must turn completely over; but Burroughs by a dexterous movement succeeded in partially righting it, at the same time shifting the rudder so as to steer to the right over the swamp. He had at once recognized that to fall into the river would have thrown the whole party into the hands of the rebels. Flight and hydroplaning were equally impossible; and the only chance of evading capture was to steer over the swamp. He had seen at a glance that the intricate network of channels, overgrown with weeds, might furnish a temporary refuge until the vessel's injuries had been examined and if possible repaired.The momentum of the boat carried it perhaps a quarter of a mile after the accident happened. Burroughs was able to bring it safely to the surface of one of the channels."Here's a pretty look-out!" he said to Errington. "They'll see what has happened, run down at full speed, and be up with us in ten minutes at the most. Luckily the gunboat can't follow us into this swamp; they'll have to lower boats to find us; we've got a few minutes to discover a hiding-place.""That's all right, old man," said Errington cheerfully. "I know this swamp. We'll give them a chase at any rate."CHAPTER XIXHIDE AND SEEKAt this point Errington assumed the direction of affairs--much to the contentment of Burroughs, who had now learnt by the pain in his shoulder that he had not run the gauntlet unscathed. But Errington was by no means happy. It was one thing to enter the swamp by the broad channel from the river, and quite another to come down into it from the air. He had at once thought of seeking out the deep reed-screened recess where he had discovered the flying boat. The huts, of course, might be occupied; in that case some other hiding-place must be found; but the fact that they had been empty on the occasion of his first visit seemed to show that they were inhabited only occasionally, and by good fortune they might be deserted now. It was scarcely probable that the crew of the gunboat were the same men who had been engaged in Reinhardt's little act of piracy, so that only by the most extraordinary coincidence would they spontaneously make for the same hiding-place. If he could only discover it, Errington hoped that the boat might remain concealed while the necessary repairs were made.But it was nearly dark. In such a labyrinth of waterways one might go hither and thither perhaps for hours without coming into the channel leading to the clear pool. Still the attempt must be made; and there was a chance that even if the former hiding-place were not discovered, some other secluded spot might be found that would serve equally well. The danger was that two or three boats would be employed in searching for them, one or another of which might be lucky.There was no time to be lost. The first thing was to fold back the planes, which were an encumbrance to the vessel at all times on the water, and especially among the reed-beds. The next thing was to get out the punting poles with which the boat was provided, and propel it up the channel; the farther they got from the river the better.The Chinese servants plied the poles, while Errington steered, and Burroughs sat near Chung Pi, condoling with him on his misfortune in being wounded at the eleventh hour."It is a mark of honour for the captain to be wounded when the private escapes," said Chung Pi; but as it was difficult for either Lo San or Chin Tai to interpret while attending to their task, the two wounded men relapsed into silence, regarding each other with mutual sympathy.An altercation sprang up between the two punters. Each declared that the other was a fool, and would wreck the boat. Lo San, presuming on his acquaintance with the swamp, let fall slighting remarks on Chin Tai's ignorance, which exasperated his fellow-servant. But mindful of Errington's threats on a former occasion, they subdued their voices; and since they spoke in Chinese, the Englishmen never knew what insults they hurled at each other.Errington thought his best course was to steer straight up the channel into which the boat had fallen, rather than diverge to right or left into the cross channels to which he came at frequent intervals. The sky was growing darker and darker; it would soon be impossible to proceed, and the prospect of spending the night in comparatively open water, with the chance of being stumbled upon by the pursuers, or spied in the morning, was exceedingly damping to the spirits. A very few minutes after the vessel had been got under way, the throb of the gunboat's engine was distinctly heard; and Errington, ordering the men to keep silent, shortly afterwards caught the sound of voices and then the thud of oars from the direction of the river. There was little doubt that two, if not three, boats had been lowered from the gunboat, and were already coming at a good pace into the swamp. This was, however, so broad that the fugitives were fairly safe for the present. The pursuers might, indeed, by some unlucky chance, know of the hiding-place which Errington was seeking; but they could not have any reason to guess that Errington knew of it, unless they had among them some of the men from whom he had escaped before; and in any case the growing darkness would render it as difficult for them as for Errington to make their way there.For some time the vessel was punted slowly along; the sounds of pursuit drew nearer; and Errington almost despaired of succeeding in his quest when Lo San gave a low exclamation, and signed eagerly to his master to steer to the right. In another minute the boat emerged into the pool. To cross it was the work of only a few seconds, and Errington recognized with great relief the opening of the narrow, tortuous passage through which the boat had been towed. Leaving the steering wheel, he got over the side into the water, and went to the nose of the boat, so that he might the more easily prevent it from sticking in the reed-beds. Thus, wading and punting, they forced the vessel through the passage until they came within a few yards of the patch of dry land.Here they stopped for a few minutes, while Errington stole forward and reconnoitred. There were the huts, just distinguishable in the darkness. All was quiet. The same few broken sampans were drawn up on the shore. In the midst of the open space was the cooking-stove at which the old Chinawoman had been broiling fish. Errington, with many a cautious look around, stepped on to the shore and walked rapidly but stealthily up to the huts. He paused at each, listening. No voices, no snores, came from within them. The place was deserted.Returning to the boat, he brought it from out its shelter among the reeds, and soon had it drawn up for a few feet on the muddy shore. Every one of the party breathed more freely. They sat on the sampans to rest. For some little time no one spoke; they all listened intently: would the pursuers come to the same spot? They could hear voices, faint in the distance; but the sounds seemed to be receding. It appeared certain that, whether they knew of it or not, the pursuers were not at present rowing in the direction of the hiding-place. Presently absolute silence reigned; and Errington reckoned that they were lucky in having approached so late in the evening, when the wild fowl had settled themselves; otherwise they might have been betrayed by the birds' flight."We can't see what's wrong with the machine in the darkness," said Burroughs at length, in a whisper; "and we daren't strike a light.""No; the only thing we can do is to wait for morning," replied Errington. "We shall pass a wretched night, old man.""It might be worse. I only wish I hadn't got this whack in the shoulder; it stings horribly.""I can bathe it and tie it up; hope it's not serious; but if we can get the machine mended we shan't be long running down to Sui-Fu in the morning, and then we'll soon put you to rights."Errington took a dipper down to the water, filled it, and returned to bathe Burroughs' wound. Lo San met him."Captin he glumble velly much," he said. "He say wantchee chow-chow; long time he hab catchee nuffin to eat."Burroughs had brought a little food from Sui-Fu--enough to provide himself and the two Chinamen with meals for a day. A portion of these provisions still remained; but knowing Chung Pi's appetite, he doubted whether the captain would be satisfied if the food were divided."Tell him he can have a crust of bread, a sausage end, and a mug of beer," he said. "We haven't got any melon seeds or sam-shu."Chung Pi gobbled the food with great celerity, but drank the beer in slow sips, having been assured that he could have no more. He still grumbled very much, and it struck Burroughs suddenly that cold and hunger might so work on the captain that he might be tempted to betray them. Henceforth he would be a marked man so far as the rebels were concerned; and the chance to reinstate himself in the favour of his chief, Su Fing, might prevail over the prospect of advancement at which he had mysteriously hinted."You two men keep your eye on Chung Pi," said Burroughs to the servants. "He's not to stir from the sampan he's on. Show him a knife if he objects, but don't use it."Burroughs need not have been alarmed. Chung Pi slept through the greater part of the night; and in the intervals of wakefulness he comforted himself for the cold and hunger he felt by blissful imaginings of plenty of sam-shu and melon seeds in a not distant future.It was a wearisome, comfortless night for the two Englishmen. The cold was intense, and the want of food rendered them the less able to bear it. Burroughs' shoulder, too, gave him much pain, and became very stiff. During that long darkness the friends talked of many things--of old times, of recent experiences, of the future. Errington related the full story of his recovery of the flying boat; Burroughs in return told at greater length than he had done in the yamen the pilgrimage which Lo San had undertaken for his master. Errington said nothing to Lo San at the time; but he resolved to requite his servant's devotion substantially if they got safe home.They discussed one matter about which Errington was troubled. His dismissal from the service of Ehrlich Söhne was in one sense a relief; he wished to have nothing more to do with Reinhardt, and remembering that the German held a cheque for three months' salary, he was glad to think that here was a means of liquidating his debt. But he felt much depressed about the future. His late firm was of good standing, and to be dismissed by them for what Reinhardt called "irregularities" made him fear that other employers would hesitate to take him into their service."That's absolute rot," said Burroughs, when Errington spoke of his fears. "Nobody will think any the worse of you in the end. Making an ass of yourself----""Rub it in!" interrupted Errington gloomily."Well, we all do it some time or other; and making an ass of yourself isn't a crime, or the prisons would be pretty full. There are plenty of firms as good as Ehrlich; if I didn't know how touchy you are I'd suggest your joining us; the pater----""Dry up! D'you think I'll ask your governor for a crib when I'm a rank failure, a regular rotter? A pretty fine thing that 'ud be, in return for all his kindness!""There you are! I knew that's how you'd take it. A failure! Why, you're no end better at business than I am. Everybody knows it. Look here, just shut down on those idiotic notions of yours. Chuck 'em away. A fellow that never made a mistake never made anything, somebody said. It's jolly well true. Of course, if a fellow goes on making mistakes, can't learn, hasn't got the sense or the will-power to pull up, he is a rotter, and there's no good disguising it. But many a juggins has turned out a jolly fine chap; in a year or two you'll laugh at yourself, and----""And thank my stars I had such a pal as the Mole, even if he does lecture a bit. Why didn't you say all that and other things before?""Well, you know--I--well, I suppose I was a juggins too, but you'd have shied a brick at my head if I had, wouldn't you?"What more they said need not be told. That talk in the dead of night, under the silent stars, knit them closer together in a friendship which neither time nor circumstance will ever break asunder.As soon as there was a glimmer of light they inspected the vessel. The damage was greater than they supposed. The petrol pipe union had been snapped; one of the stays of the starboard plane was broken in two; and a bullet had pierced a hole near the bottom of one of the petrol cans, the contents of which had almost entirely trickled away. They had only another half can of the spirit left. This was a very disturbing discovery, but it suggested at the same time what a lucky escape they had had. They might well have expected that the heat caused by the impact of the bullet would set the petrol on fire."Rather a long job before us," said Errington; "that is, if we try to mend the stay.""The pipe won't take long," said Burroughs. "There's a bit of rubber tubing in the locker. We can stick the broken ends of the pipe into that. The stay is a different matter.""Couldn't we leave that alone, and trust to our speed on the water?" Errington suggested."Rather risky. Unless the blackguards have got sick of waiting all night and sheered off, they'll spot us as soon as we take the river, and another shot might do for us altogether. No; we must mend the stay somehow, and then fly inland until we're out of harm's way--until the petrol gives out.""But the stay must be welded; and we can't do that without hammering. If the gunboat's crew are anywhere about they are sure to hear the row, and find us out in no time.""We'll have to chance that," said Burroughs. "A worse thing is the want of proper tools. There's a hammer in the locker, but we haven't got a forge. We can make a fire in that old stove there; but we've no bellows, and we can never get heat enough without.""Never say die. Where there's a stove there ought to be bellows. I'm going to look round. But work before breakfast, and no supper the night before, doesn't make you feel amiable, does it?""While you are looking for the bellows I'll stroll along the shore and find out what sort of a place we're on. It's just as well to know something about our whereabouts."Burroughs walked past the sampan where Chung Pi had passed the night. A thick white mist lay over the swamp, through which nothing was visible beyond two or three yards. Chung Pi was sitting in the sampan with his arms tightly folded. He seemed to have shrunk; Lo San and Chin Tai also were blue with hunger and cold. Burroughs felt sorry for them all."I regret having been compelled to inflict these inconveniences on you, noble captain," he said; "it is a pity our charms have not availed.""Ah! If you had not gone back for the second talisman we should have been safe," said Chung Pi mournfully.Burroughs had heard nothing about the second talisman, but he did not ask for an explanation, merely promising that Chung Pi should enjoy a substantial feast as soon as they reached Sui-Fu.Proceeding along the shore, picking his way carefully because of the mist, he had walked for about a quarter of a mile when he came suddenly upon a sampan, and halted, fearing that it might belong to the enemy. But as he stood there surrounded by the clinging fog, he heard Errington's voice apparently only a few yards away. The explanation flashed upon him at once. They were on a small island, encompassed by a continuous screen of reeds. This was in a measure reassuring, for it diminished the risk of being discovered.He moved forward. Errington saw a figure looming through the mist, and instantly challenged."It's all right, Pidge. I've made a tour of the place; it's an island. Any luck?""Yes, I've found a cranky pair of bellows, very Chinese, in one of the huts. We can start our forge at once.... Hullo!"The exclamation was provoked by the sound of a shot in the distance."What's that mean, I wonder?" said Burroughs."Don't know. Shooting a duck for breakfast, perhaps. It's pretty clear that the beggars haven't given us up. When we start hammering they'll hear us and are sure to find us out.""Better carry the stove into one of the huts and shut yourself up there. The sound will be deadened then. I wish now I'd brought my engineer; he'd have made a better job of it than you and Lo San; I can't help, I'm sorry to say; my wretched arm is as stiff as a poker.""I've taken off the broken stay; half-an-hour's work ought to finish the job as soon as we get the fire going. This mist is a godsend; they can't see our smoke.""Well, you take the two boys to lend a hand in the hut, while I keep an eye on Chung Pi and listen for the enemy."The servants carried the stove and the broken stay into the largest of the huts. One of the others furnished plenty of wood for the fire, and in a few minutes they had a good blaze, and began the work of welding the stay. Burroughs was disconcerted to find that although the hut was shut up as closely as the ramshackle timbers allowed, the sound of hammering was distinctly audible outside. He sat on the sampan beside the dejected figure of Chung Pi, peering through the mist, and listening intently.By and by he fancied he heard voices from the direction of the channel, and a few minutes afterwards the muffled splash of paddles struck his ear. He waited until he was no longer in doubt that the sounds were approaching; then, taking Chung Pi by the sleeve, he hurried him up to the hut where the work was going on."They're coming this way, Pidge," he said. "Better knock off until we know what's happening.""I'll take Lo San down to the shore," said Errington. "Let us hope they'll miss the place."At the shore Errington and the Chinaman stood listening in silence. The sound of paddles was now distinctly audible, growing louder every moment. Presently there were mingled with it the high-toned voices of Chinamen."Can you hear what they say?" Errington whispered.Lo San bent forward."He say 'Come this side,'" he whispered. "He savvy this place all same.""How many boats?""My tinkee two piecee sampan. Hai! He say: 'This side bobbely; muss belongey place where tings belongey pilates.'"Such fragments as these were alarming. The boats could not be more than thirty yards away, and it seemed as though one of the men knew of the pirates' lair, and having suspected that the hammering had proceeded thence, was trying to guide the party towards it. But gradually the sounds receded. Lo San heard one man suggest that they should go back to the ship. Apparently they had failed to find their way in the mist. A more distant voice seemed to acquiesce in the suggestion, and the sounds died away until there was again complete silence.Then Errington returned to the hut and resumed work on the stay, while Burroughs, this time leaving Chung Pi behind, went down to the shore to keep watch. The mist was gradually lifting; the screen of reeds facing the island first became visible, then a short stretch of the waterway that cut it in two. Little by little the whole prospect became clear; from behind came the dull hammering.It was perhaps half-an-hour after Errington had recommenced work when Burroughs again caught the distant splash of oars. He instantly ran up to the hut and gave the word to cease work; then returned with Errington and Lo San to the shore. Nearer and nearer drew the sounds. There was no doubt that the pursuers were making in the direction of the island.The watchers dropped down behind one of the stranded sampans and peered anxiously over the edge. If the approaching boat or boats came within sight of the island, to escape discovery was impossible. The Englishmen thought dismally of their chances if it came to a fight. They had a couple of revolvers; the Chinamen had their knives; but the pursuers, besides being more numerous, were without doubt completely armed. There could be only one end to the struggle, and there was no means of avoiding it. The stay was not completely repaired; it had to be refitted to the plane; and if the pursuers' boat held on its present course, as indicated by the growing sound, it must come within sight of the island long before the hydroplane could be got ready.The voices of the approaching men now sounded so near that the watchers expected every moment their boat to glide into view on the waterway. They heard even the swishing of the rushes as the craft pushed its way among them. Suddenly there was a change. The sounds appeared to take a slightly different direction."He say, 'Muss belongey this side,'" whispered Lo San.A few moments passed, during which the sounds grew somewhat fainter. Then they ceased abruptly: it was as if the men had suddenly found that which they sought. The silence continued, and Errington became alarmed. What were the pursuers about? He felt that he must know. Whispering his intention to Burroughs, he stepped into the water, waded noiselessly across to the nearest bed of reeds, skirted the outer edge, and disappeared from view.He had not gone more than a dozen yards when he guessed what had happened. The man who had professed to know the island had lost his way, as was very natural in a passage that had many bewildering turns, with openings here and there among the reeds, which it must be difficult to distinguish one from another. The course which the boat had taken was plainly indicated by the bent and broken reeds among which it had been forced. Wading very cautiously in the same direction, and bending low, so that he was almost completely concealed, Errington in a few seconds saw with great surprise the nose of an empty boat projecting above the reeds, and apparently resting on dry land. The stern of the boat was hidden.Instantly the explanation flashed upon him. The pursuers had lighted upon another patch of firm land, of which there were many dotted about the swamp, and imagining it to be the island of which they were in search, had gone ashore to explore the place.Errington wondered how large the patch of dry land might be. If it were no longer than the island on which the hydroplane was beached, the men would soon discover their mistake, return to the boat, and continue their search. It was almost incredible that they should then fail to find the other island, within thirty yards of them. Was it possible in any way to check them?A sudden idea occurred to him. Retracing his steps through the icy cold water, he came to the shore where Burroughs was anxiously awaiting his return, and waded to the hydroplane. From this he took the boat-hook, a long light pole of bamboo. Then putting his fingers to his lips, he set off again through the water, in nervous dread lest, short as his absence had been, the pursuers had had time to come back to their boat.To his great relief, when he reached the spot, nobody was in sight. The boat remained as he had left it. Standing concealed among the reeds, he thrust the boat-hook forward, and after a few seconds' groping caught the hidden stern of the boat and drew it gently towards him--slowly and carefully, so as to make the least possible noise. The boat had not been tied up. It slid down the shelving bank inch by inch until it floated. Errington drew it on, through the reeds, which rustled unavoidably as it passed through them; then, turning his back, he towed it as rapidly as he could up the waterway towards his own island."Marooned, old chap," he said cheerfully to Burroughs, who started up in amazement. "But the water's deadly cold!"CHAPTER XXWILL-O'-THE-WISPSix men had landed from the boat, convinced that they had come to the island from which the sound of hammering had proceeded. Their guide was somewhat perplexed at the absence of huts, but concluded that he had come to another part of the island, and led his companions through a tangle of shrubs and brushwood, expecting to come upon the huts from the rear. But ten minutes' search over the ground proved him to be mistaken, and the party retraced their steps, intending to proceed farther in their boat.They stood rooted in consternation when, reaching the spot where they had left the boat, they discovered its disappearance. But it did not occur to them at first that any stealthy hand had been concerned. One reviled another for not having drawn the boat high enough up the shore, supposing that it had slipped down by its own weight. The strange thing was that, there being little or no current, it had so completely disappeared. They ran up and down the banks peering into the rushes, becoming more and more angry and perplexed as the suspicion dawned upon them that the boat had been stolen.Meanwhile Errington had explained to Burroughs what had happened. They were congratulating themselves on having at least won a respite, during which the repairing of the stay might be finished, when they heard a loud shout from the men who had thus been marooned."There were two boats last night," said Errington. "They're calling to the other."The shout was repeated, several men calling together. And then came a faint call in answer."My tinkee 'nother boat come this side chop-chop," said Lo San.Again the shout was raised, and an answer came, a little less faintly, from somewhere in the distance."We shall have the others on us in no time," said Burroughs. "How long will the job take now?""Ten minutes to get the fire up again and finish welding, five to fix it," replied Errington."There's just a chance then, if you hurry up," said Burroughs. "They may be some time finding the fellows you have marooned. When they do find them, they'll search the whole neighbourhood, and there isn't the ghost of a chance of their not finding us, especially with the hammering going on again.""I tell you what," said Errington. "D'you think you could manage to lend a hand while Chin Tai finishes the job? He can't do it alone, or Lo San either; but with you to keep an eye on it I think he could.""I could do that. Why?""Because I could then lead the beggars off the scent. Lo San and I can use this boat. My idea is to row out a little way and hide in the reeds until the second boat has come up and taken off the men; then to show ourselves and make them chase us into the main channel. We both know the swamp pretty well, and we could lead them such a dance that you'd have plenty of time to get things finished here. You may be sure that when they see it's their boat they'll be keen enough to overtake us.""But they know there are more than two of us," Burroughs objected; "and when they hear the hammering again, they will very likely drop you for the bigger game.""Don't begin the hammering at once. Wait till you hear me coo-ee, which won't be until I've drawn them pretty far away. All we want is a quarter of an hour's grace, and it'll be strange if I can't play them so long.""And what about us? Are we to fly out and pick you up?""Better wait for me. I'll get back here. When the repairs are finished it won't take a minute to get the boat afloat, and as you can't possibly get up enough speed among these rushes to fly, I'd better be here: I know the place, you don't.""All right, then. And the sooner you start the better; the second boat is coming up pretty fast, judging by the shouts."Errington got into the boat with Lo San, and pulled off quietly. He was in something of a quandary. He wished the Chinamen to see him as soon as they had taken off their stranded companions, but until then to remain undiscovered by both parties. This was difficult to manage, because the only point from which he would be visible from the shore where he had found the boat was the entrance of the narrow cross passage from the wider waterway leading to the island. If he took up his position there, he would be seen first by the crew of the second boat.To overcome the difficulty both he and Lo San had to get into the water and lug the boat through a mass of reeds, behind which they could see without being seen. They had hardly concealed themselves when the second boat came round a bend in the winding waterway, and, guided by the shouts of the marooned crew, swung round to the right. The moment they were out of sight, Errington and Lo San dragged their boat back through the reeds, and lay to, waiting until they should hear that the men had been taken off.There was a tremendous hubbub of explanations when the two parties of Chinamen met."What are they saying?" asked Errington, as he paddled gently towards the entrance of the passage up which the boat had disappeared."My no can tell," said Lo San. "He piecee fella makee plenty too muchee bobbely."At a slight diminution in the uproar Errington guessed that the explanations, whatever they were, were over, and that the men were being taken into the boat. With a stroke of the paddle he brought the nose of his boat to the edge of the reed-bed, where, by stretching forward, he could see what was going on. There were eight men in the boat; two were still on the bank, waiting until room was made for them. Errington smiled: the boat thus overloaded would not be difficult to outdistance.The last man was stepping into the boat. The moment had come. Whispering to Lo San to make as much noise with his paddle as possible, he gave the word to go. The two paddles struck the water together with a loud splash, and the boat shot ahead in full view of the Chinamen, making directly for the main channel leading to the river. Terrific yells escaped the pursuers when they saw their boat dashing away from them with a white man on board. Errington had little doubt that his stratagem had succeeded.The passage wound so frequently, and the reeds grew so high, that it was impossible to see whether the Chinamen were actually in pursuit unless he waited for them. He stopped paddling at a spot where about ten yards of the waterway was visible behind, In a minute or two the nose of the pursuing boat emerged from behind the reeds. Instantly Errington started again, and was out of sight in five seconds. The Chinamen broke into fierce yells when they saw him; one of them snapped a rifle, but the shot only disturbed the water-fowl. Errington wondered with a little anxiety whether a third boat was in the swamp ahead of him, or would be lowered from the gunboat at the sound of the shot; but the only course possible at present was to go straight ahead. He had seen by the sluggish movement of the pursuing boat, and its depth in the water, that he would be an easy winner in the race.Thus the chase went on down the winding channel. Every now and then Errington slackened his pace, so that the pursuers might have a glimpse of him--not long enough to take aim--and be drawn farther and farther from Burroughs. They were so intent on recovering their boat that they had apparently forgotten the hydroplane and the other members of its crew.At last Errington came out into the pool. He paddled quickly across it, in a direction away from the river, satisfying himself by a rapid glance around that no other boat was in sight. Just as he reached the farther side, the Chinamen's boat shot out from among the reeds. They stopped paddling, looking round for their quarry, and catching sight of him near a reed-bed about three hundred yards away, they opened fire. The bullets passed unpleasantly close, and Errington at once drove the boat into one of the many narrow channels, and was out of sight in a few seconds. Thereupon the Chinamen gave chase again; but when they reached the other side of the pool, and saw that the enemy had disappeared, they apparently recognized that they were outmatched, and stopped to consider what they should do.At this moment a loud and prolonged coo-ee sounded from the midst of the swamp. Whether they recognized it as a signal or not, it roused them to desperate energy. Concealed by the reeds, Errington listened to a violent altercation among them. They were disputing which of them should enter the water and so lighten the boat. It ended in three of the six who had been marooned slipping over the side and wading slowly towards a small dry patch, where they posted themselves, holding their rifles ready to shoot at the fugitives if they should reappear. The remaining men drove their boat rather more rapidly than before in the direction from which the coo-ee had come.Errington had not seen what had been done, but hearing the boat approaching, he started again, paddling easily until the pursuers came into view. The fact that they had lightened the boat did not trouble him. His boat was of about the same size, and Lo San and he could easily keep ahead. But he was somewhat anxious lest he should presently find himself in a blind alley. He did not know the part of the swamp to which he had now come, and it was quite possible that, entering a passage that seemed free, he would come upon an impenetrable belt of reeds that would form an effectual barrier. If at such a moment the enemy were in sight, he might well be overhauled before he could get free.The pursuing boat, although no longer burdened with a double crew, was lower in the water than that in which Errington and Lo San were. It flashed upon Errington that if he could only find a channel where the depth of water was not more than sufficient to allow the passage of his boat, the other might stick in the mud and relieve him of further trouble. He remembered that, when circling the pool with Lo San, he had come to very shallow water at the end farthest from the river, and wondered whether he could find his way there now.Turning at a venture into a channel at his right hand, comparatively free from reeds, he struck out rapidly, splashing with the paddles in order to lead the enemy on. By great good fortune, the channel led by a tortuous course to the upper end of the pool. A little search discovered the shallow part, and marking it carefully in his mind by the adjacent reed clumps, he backed to the entrance of the channel down which he had just come, ready to dash ahead the moment the pursuers came in sight.They gave a loud shout when they saw him; the distance between the boats was very little; and as Errington's moved away, the pursuers came on with redoubled energy. He led them straight for the shallows, hoping that they would follow directly in his wake. There was nothing to make them suspicious. They paddled hard, shouting with triumph when they saw that they were gaining. Foot by foot they neared the danger point; Errington held his breath in suspense. Then there came suddenly from the Chinamen a cry of a different kind. The boat, driving into the mud, had thrown them one upon another. One lost his paddle. When they recovered their balance, it was to find their boat stuck hopelessly in a mud-bank, and the other darting obliquely across the pool. Howling with rage, they seized their rifles. At the same moment there came shots from the patch of dry ground beyond the lower end, where the three men had caught sight of the fugitives speeding back to the channel from which they had first come. Their marksmanship at the moving target was bad. The shots from both parties fell harmlessly; and Errington disappeared from view."My tinkee topside pidgin, galaw!" cried Lo San gleefully. "One piecee lot this side, 'nother piecee lot that side" (he waved his arm towards the upper and the lower ends of the pool in succession). "No can do anyting. Massa Bullows he belongey bust laughin' what time you tellum."
CHAPTER XVIII
WINGED
For the first time in twenty-four hours Burroughs felt at ease; Errington was with him, Meichow was already far behind, and there was little more to fear from the enemy. Su Fing's launch was an old steamer, incapable of effective pursuit. The only vessel of any speed at Meichow was Reinhardt's motor launch, though even in the water that could not vie with the flying boat. No doubt by this time the door of Errington's room in the yamen had been opened, and Reinhardt might have convinced the sentinel that a trick had been played upon their captain, and that he, not the insolent stranger, was the true German. But it was unlikely that he would be wholly liberated until the chief's arrival, and then it would be too late even to attempt pursuit.
But all depended on the possibility of keeping the machine in good running order, and Burroughs soon began to be anxious on this score. When flying, it consumed a great deal more petrol than when used as a hydroplane, and the trial trips and the false start had deplenished his supply.
"I doubt whether we've got enough to carry us to Sui-Fu," he said to Errington at his side.
"Chia-ling Fu is still in the hands of the rebels?"
"It was yesterday. We shan't be safe until we reach Sui-Fu."
"You had better drop, then, and run in the water. We've come too far already for them to overtake us."
This seemed good advice, and Burroughs shut off the tractor and let the vessel drop gently into the water. Assisted by the current, and with the engine at little more than half speed, it skimmed along at the rate of at least twenty-five knots.
"I think I had better go and have a word with Chung Pi," said Burroughs to Errington. "He's in a terrible stew by the look of him."
"He's done for with Su Fing, beyond doubt. Go and smooth him down as well as you can, old man."
Burroughs left Errington to navigate the boat, and sat down at Chung Pi's feet, calling Chin Tai to interpret.
"Have the evil spirits taken possession of the thing?" asked the unhappy captain. "But no; I see that you are not perturbed in mind, honourable stranger. What is the meaning of this? Did you not see the chief's launch? Why do you not give him the boat, and the thousand dollars that your august mandarins sent to support him?"
"I owe you a humble apology, noble captain," replied Burroughs. "I will confess all to you, and when you have heard me, I hope you will pardon me. The prisoner there is my friend."
"But you are a German!" Chung Pi interrupted.
"No. I am an Englishman." Chung Pi groaned. "My friend, as you know, had the ill-fortune to interfere with your chief in a little fight down-stream, and your chief very naturally got even with him as soon as he could. Since he could be released in no other way, I came up on this vessel to see what I could do. Imagine, then, my dismay when, on returning with you from our little trip, I saw the launch of a man, a German, who had been a bad friend to my friend there, and had refused to help him, though I begged him to do so, knowing his relations with your chief."
"Ah! It is ill to catch a fish, and throw away the net," said Chung Pi sententiously. "But you say he is a German. Where, then, is his moustache?"
"Here!" said Burroughs solemnly, pointing to his upper lip.
The Chinaman gasped. Bending forward, he examined the moustache closely.
"Such a thing I never heard of," he cried. "Are you speaking the truth? You have deceived me once and twice."
"I know--I'm sorry I had to do it. The moustache was shaved from the German in an opium house, and a skilful countryman of yours fitted it to my own hairless lip."
The Chinaman smiled; then he appeared to reflect.
"It was well done," he said presently. "Will you tell me where I can find that man?"
"My comprador can tell you," Burroughs replied. "Are you thinking of employing him?"
"I should like my moustache to grow up instead of down," said Chung Pi simply. "Yours is so much more becoming to a warrior."
"If it didn't tickle so! But, noble captain, we must consider your position."
Chung Pi's look of anxiety returned; in his preoccupation with this wonderful matter of the moustache he had forgotten that he too was a fugitive.
"Su Fing has a very hasty temper, by all accounts," Burroughs went on. "The loss of his prisoner, and your treatment of his German friend, will make him very angry with you; he will believe, no doubt, that you are a party to the whole scheme, and I'm very much afraid that it won't be safe for you to show your face at Meichow again."
"Su Fing would chop off my head," said the captain ruefully.
"And that would be an irreparable loss," said Burroughs. ("Not like the loss of a moustache," added Chin Tai in translating.) "We are going to Sui-Fu. Will you come with us, or shall we put you down somewhere near Chia-ling Fu, and leave you to make your peace with the chief?"
"Not that," said Chung Pi decisively. "A fish may sport in the kettle, but his life will not be long. I will go with you to Sui-Fu. And then----"
He fell into a train of deep reflection. Burroughs waited, expecting him to reveal something of what was passing in his mind; but after some minutes' silence, he said--
"I feel that I have treated you very shabbily, noble captain; but perhaps if you consider what you yourself would have done in the same circumstances----"
"Say no more, illustrious stranger," Chung Pi interrupted, with a smile which Burroughs at the time was at a loss to understand. "I feel that I am hanging on the tail of a beautiful horse."
"What does he mean?" asked Burroughs of Chin Tai, who grinned as he translated the captain's remark.
"Hai! He say he catchee tailo numpa one hoss," said the man; "that tell he tink he belongey some time topside fella."
"Get a rise in the world? I don't quite see it."
"Massa no unastand this time; some time massa savvy pidgin all same," said Chin Tai.
The explanation was as obscure as the original statement; but Burroughs did not press the matter; he had caught sight of Chia-ling Fu in the distance.
His intention was to run past the town at full speed. It was in the occupation of the rebels: the river was no doubt crowded with their sampans and other small craft; but the speed of the hydroplane was so great that it ought to be easy to slip past almost before the rebels were aware of their approach. When once they had run by, there was nothing in the harbour that could catch them. Then, with evening closing upon them, the remainder of the journey down to Sui-Fu would be free from peril.
The Englishmen were, however, much startled when, on drawing nearer to the town, they saw, apparently anchored in mid-stream, one of the gunboats which had been lying early that morning in the river above Mei-chow. Burroughs remembered now that when he had accompanied Chung Pi down to the landing-stage the vessel had left its moorings. He had supposed that it had gone up-stream to meet the chief; but it seemed probable that it had been sent downstream to announce at Chia-ling Fu the victory which Su Fing wished his supporters to believe that he had won.
"This is rather awkward," said Errington. "That's the very boat that took me to Mei-chow. If they see me here they'll smell a rat."
"You can duck down: then they won't see you. Besides, if they see Chung Pi they'll never dream there's anything wrong."
"There's something in that; but it looks to me as if they are waiting for us. If they are they may fire before we are near enough for them to see Chung Pi."
They knew the vessel well. She had been employed for some time in patrolling the river, before she was captured by the pirates. She carried a ten-pounder and a couple of machine guns. Su Fing, on arriving at his headquarters and learning what had happened, had at once telegraphed to Chia-ling Fu, ordering the gunboat to intercept the hydroplane.
Almost as soon as Errington had spoken, there was a spurt of flame from the bows of the vessel, and a heavy splash in the water only twenty or thirty yards behind them. No further proof was needed that the gunboat had been lying in wait for them, and that the gunners had got the range to a nicety. Only the great speed of the hydroplane had saved it.
Burroughs did not lose a moment in meeting this emergency. Throwing the differential gearing into action, he set the air tractor in motion, and managed to lift the vessel above the surface just as a second shot dashed up a shower of spray beneath him. He glanced at the banks right and left: the country was too open to give any shelter from the enemy's fire, and no matter in which direction he steered, he could hardly be safe against the gun for several minutes, when he should have succeeded in rising to an altitude at which only high-angle fire could be effective. And to make matters worse, the machine guns were brought into action, and a stream of bullets rattled and hissed around him.
Chung Pi and the other Chinamen had at the first shot thrown themselves face downwards in the bottom of the boat.
"Straight forward, Ted; right over their heads," cried Errington, "it's the only chance. They can't use their guns then, and I'll give odds against their doing any damage with rifles."
Clearly this was the best thing to be done. The next few moments were tense with excitement. The vessel rose, but it seemed to Burroughs that she had never answered so slowly to the elevating lever. Above the hum of the tractor could be heard the zip of bullets as they tore their way through the canvas of the planes and the sides of the boat. Burroughs felt a nervous dread lest a shot should reach the petrol tank or the cylinders. But the boat still rose; it was drawing rapidly nearer to the enemy, and the Englishmen held their breath with suspense.
[image]RUNNING THE GAUNTLET
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RUNNING THE GAUNTLET
There fell a sudden silence. Burroughs' intention had been seen by the gunners, and as they could not lift their pieces high enough to take aim at the vessel now that it was rising, and the range altering every moment, the gunboat was slewing round as if to head down-stream. It was broadside against the stream when the flying boat flashed by at a height of sixty feet. The occupants heard the reports of several rifles; but they were now travelling at the rate of fifty or sixty miles an hour, and nothing but a shower of bullets from the machine guns had any likelihood of striking them.
"All right now," said Errington, with a gasp of relief, when the flying boat was a good two hundred yards down-stream, and the gunboat was still turning.
"I hope so," replied Burroughs.
He glanced from right to left, undecided whether it would not be advisable to strike inland and return to the river lower down; for the channel was pretty straight for a long distance, and the vessel, if it flew directly forward, would still be in danger from the guns. In a few moments, however, he decided that there was even more risk in leaving the river if any mischance should happen to the boat. For one thing, the longer he flew, the more petrol he consumed; for another, if the engine failed, and he was forced to descend, on land he would be at the mercy of any wandering predatory band, whereas on the water he could always drift on the current, with some chance of safety if he did not happen to be observed. Accordingly he flew straight ahead, intending to sink upon the surface as soon as a bend in the river hid the vessel from view.
In another half-minute the machine guns recommenced firing. The aim of the gunners appeared to be even wilder than before. Chung Pi and the servants had recovered courage enough to rise to their knees and peer over the edge of the canvas side at the gunboat far behind. The captain laughed as he heard the report of the guns, and made a jocular remark about the paltry skill of Su Fing's gunners. There was no longer the whistle of bullets flying around, nor the slight ripping sound of the shots passing through the planes. It seemed that all danger was over.
The flying boat was now skirting the edge of the swamp in which it had been concealed by the river pirates, and Errington remembered that Burroughs had never heard the full story of that strange episode. He had been tempted to refer to the matter during the lunch with Reinhardt, but the German was in a sense their guest; and since Burroughs did not mention it, Errington said nothing. After all it was Burroughs' affair. The story would keep until they reached Sui-Fu.
They were now about three-quarters of a mile from the gunboat, and Burroughs, with his eye on a bend in the course a short distance ahead, just where the painted rocks gave warning that the water-way was not clear, was congratulating himself that at that point he might safely descend. Suddenly the firing behind redoubled in fury; it seemed that the gunners had realized that in a few seconds their chance would be gone. Bullets sang around; the Chinamen again ducked their heads below the gunwale; and once or twice there were the ominous sounds of bullets tearing through the planes, or flattening themselves against the metal parts of the framework.
They were within a hundred yards of safety when a double catastrophe happened. Almost at the same instant the engine ceased to work and one of the stays was cut clean through. In the excitement and anxiety of the moment Burroughs was unaware that he was wounded, and a cry uttered by Chung Pi passed quite unnoticed. The vessel tilted; for a terrible second it seemed that it must turn completely over; but Burroughs by a dexterous movement succeeded in partially righting it, at the same time shifting the rudder so as to steer to the right over the swamp. He had at once recognized that to fall into the river would have thrown the whole party into the hands of the rebels. Flight and hydroplaning were equally impossible; and the only chance of evading capture was to steer over the swamp. He had seen at a glance that the intricate network of channels, overgrown with weeds, might furnish a temporary refuge until the vessel's injuries had been examined and if possible repaired.
The momentum of the boat carried it perhaps a quarter of a mile after the accident happened. Burroughs was able to bring it safely to the surface of one of the channels.
"Here's a pretty look-out!" he said to Errington. "They'll see what has happened, run down at full speed, and be up with us in ten minutes at the most. Luckily the gunboat can't follow us into this swamp; they'll have to lower boats to find us; we've got a few minutes to discover a hiding-place."
"That's all right, old man," said Errington cheerfully. "I know this swamp. We'll give them a chase at any rate."
CHAPTER XIX
HIDE AND SEEK
At this point Errington assumed the direction of affairs--much to the contentment of Burroughs, who had now learnt by the pain in his shoulder that he had not run the gauntlet unscathed. But Errington was by no means happy. It was one thing to enter the swamp by the broad channel from the river, and quite another to come down into it from the air. He had at once thought of seeking out the deep reed-screened recess where he had discovered the flying boat. The huts, of course, might be occupied; in that case some other hiding-place must be found; but the fact that they had been empty on the occasion of his first visit seemed to show that they were inhabited only occasionally, and by good fortune they might be deserted now. It was scarcely probable that the crew of the gunboat were the same men who had been engaged in Reinhardt's little act of piracy, so that only by the most extraordinary coincidence would they spontaneously make for the same hiding-place. If he could only discover it, Errington hoped that the boat might remain concealed while the necessary repairs were made.
But it was nearly dark. In such a labyrinth of waterways one might go hither and thither perhaps for hours without coming into the channel leading to the clear pool. Still the attempt must be made; and there was a chance that even if the former hiding-place were not discovered, some other secluded spot might be found that would serve equally well. The danger was that two or three boats would be employed in searching for them, one or another of which might be lucky.
There was no time to be lost. The first thing was to fold back the planes, which were an encumbrance to the vessel at all times on the water, and especially among the reed-beds. The next thing was to get out the punting poles with which the boat was provided, and propel it up the channel; the farther they got from the river the better.
The Chinese servants plied the poles, while Errington steered, and Burroughs sat near Chung Pi, condoling with him on his misfortune in being wounded at the eleventh hour.
"It is a mark of honour for the captain to be wounded when the private escapes," said Chung Pi; but as it was difficult for either Lo San or Chin Tai to interpret while attending to their task, the two wounded men relapsed into silence, regarding each other with mutual sympathy.
An altercation sprang up between the two punters. Each declared that the other was a fool, and would wreck the boat. Lo San, presuming on his acquaintance with the swamp, let fall slighting remarks on Chin Tai's ignorance, which exasperated his fellow-servant. But mindful of Errington's threats on a former occasion, they subdued their voices; and since they spoke in Chinese, the Englishmen never knew what insults they hurled at each other.
Errington thought his best course was to steer straight up the channel into which the boat had fallen, rather than diverge to right or left into the cross channels to which he came at frequent intervals. The sky was growing darker and darker; it would soon be impossible to proceed, and the prospect of spending the night in comparatively open water, with the chance of being stumbled upon by the pursuers, or spied in the morning, was exceedingly damping to the spirits. A very few minutes after the vessel had been got under way, the throb of the gunboat's engine was distinctly heard; and Errington, ordering the men to keep silent, shortly afterwards caught the sound of voices and then the thud of oars from the direction of the river. There was little doubt that two, if not three, boats had been lowered from the gunboat, and were already coming at a good pace into the swamp. This was, however, so broad that the fugitives were fairly safe for the present. The pursuers might, indeed, by some unlucky chance, know of the hiding-place which Errington was seeking; but they could not have any reason to guess that Errington knew of it, unless they had among them some of the men from whom he had escaped before; and in any case the growing darkness would render it as difficult for them as for Errington to make their way there.
For some time the vessel was punted slowly along; the sounds of pursuit drew nearer; and Errington almost despaired of succeeding in his quest when Lo San gave a low exclamation, and signed eagerly to his master to steer to the right. In another minute the boat emerged into the pool. To cross it was the work of only a few seconds, and Errington recognized with great relief the opening of the narrow, tortuous passage through which the boat had been towed. Leaving the steering wheel, he got over the side into the water, and went to the nose of the boat, so that he might the more easily prevent it from sticking in the reed-beds. Thus, wading and punting, they forced the vessel through the passage until they came within a few yards of the patch of dry land.
Here they stopped for a few minutes, while Errington stole forward and reconnoitred. There were the huts, just distinguishable in the darkness. All was quiet. The same few broken sampans were drawn up on the shore. In the midst of the open space was the cooking-stove at which the old Chinawoman had been broiling fish. Errington, with many a cautious look around, stepped on to the shore and walked rapidly but stealthily up to the huts. He paused at each, listening. No voices, no snores, came from within them. The place was deserted.
Returning to the boat, he brought it from out its shelter among the reeds, and soon had it drawn up for a few feet on the muddy shore. Every one of the party breathed more freely. They sat on the sampans to rest. For some little time no one spoke; they all listened intently: would the pursuers come to the same spot? They could hear voices, faint in the distance; but the sounds seemed to be receding. It appeared certain that, whether they knew of it or not, the pursuers were not at present rowing in the direction of the hiding-place. Presently absolute silence reigned; and Errington reckoned that they were lucky in having approached so late in the evening, when the wild fowl had settled themselves; otherwise they might have been betrayed by the birds' flight.
"We can't see what's wrong with the machine in the darkness," said Burroughs at length, in a whisper; "and we daren't strike a light."
"No; the only thing we can do is to wait for morning," replied Errington. "We shall pass a wretched night, old man."
"It might be worse. I only wish I hadn't got this whack in the shoulder; it stings horribly."
"I can bathe it and tie it up; hope it's not serious; but if we can get the machine mended we shan't be long running down to Sui-Fu in the morning, and then we'll soon put you to rights."
Errington took a dipper down to the water, filled it, and returned to bathe Burroughs' wound. Lo San met him.
"Captin he glumble velly much," he said. "He say wantchee chow-chow; long time he hab catchee nuffin to eat."
Burroughs had brought a little food from Sui-Fu--enough to provide himself and the two Chinamen with meals for a day. A portion of these provisions still remained; but knowing Chung Pi's appetite, he doubted whether the captain would be satisfied if the food were divided.
"Tell him he can have a crust of bread, a sausage end, and a mug of beer," he said. "We haven't got any melon seeds or sam-shu."
Chung Pi gobbled the food with great celerity, but drank the beer in slow sips, having been assured that he could have no more. He still grumbled very much, and it struck Burroughs suddenly that cold and hunger might so work on the captain that he might be tempted to betray them. Henceforth he would be a marked man so far as the rebels were concerned; and the chance to reinstate himself in the favour of his chief, Su Fing, might prevail over the prospect of advancement at which he had mysteriously hinted.
"You two men keep your eye on Chung Pi," said Burroughs to the servants. "He's not to stir from the sampan he's on. Show him a knife if he objects, but don't use it."
Burroughs need not have been alarmed. Chung Pi slept through the greater part of the night; and in the intervals of wakefulness he comforted himself for the cold and hunger he felt by blissful imaginings of plenty of sam-shu and melon seeds in a not distant future.
It was a wearisome, comfortless night for the two Englishmen. The cold was intense, and the want of food rendered them the less able to bear it. Burroughs' shoulder, too, gave him much pain, and became very stiff. During that long darkness the friends talked of many things--of old times, of recent experiences, of the future. Errington related the full story of his recovery of the flying boat; Burroughs in return told at greater length than he had done in the yamen the pilgrimage which Lo San had undertaken for his master. Errington said nothing to Lo San at the time; but he resolved to requite his servant's devotion substantially if they got safe home.
They discussed one matter about which Errington was troubled. His dismissal from the service of Ehrlich Söhne was in one sense a relief; he wished to have nothing more to do with Reinhardt, and remembering that the German held a cheque for three months' salary, he was glad to think that here was a means of liquidating his debt. But he felt much depressed about the future. His late firm was of good standing, and to be dismissed by them for what Reinhardt called "irregularities" made him fear that other employers would hesitate to take him into their service.
"That's absolute rot," said Burroughs, when Errington spoke of his fears. "Nobody will think any the worse of you in the end. Making an ass of yourself----"
"Rub it in!" interrupted Errington gloomily.
"Well, we all do it some time or other; and making an ass of yourself isn't a crime, or the prisons would be pretty full. There are plenty of firms as good as Ehrlich; if I didn't know how touchy you are I'd suggest your joining us; the pater----"
"Dry up! D'you think I'll ask your governor for a crib when I'm a rank failure, a regular rotter? A pretty fine thing that 'ud be, in return for all his kindness!"
"There you are! I knew that's how you'd take it. A failure! Why, you're no end better at business than I am. Everybody knows it. Look here, just shut down on those idiotic notions of yours. Chuck 'em away. A fellow that never made a mistake never made anything, somebody said. It's jolly well true. Of course, if a fellow goes on making mistakes, can't learn, hasn't got the sense or the will-power to pull up, he is a rotter, and there's no good disguising it. But many a juggins has turned out a jolly fine chap; in a year or two you'll laugh at yourself, and----"
"And thank my stars I had such a pal as the Mole, even if he does lecture a bit. Why didn't you say all that and other things before?"
"Well, you know--I--well, I suppose I was a juggins too, but you'd have shied a brick at my head if I had, wouldn't you?"
What more they said need not be told. That talk in the dead of night, under the silent stars, knit them closer together in a friendship which neither time nor circumstance will ever break asunder.
As soon as there was a glimmer of light they inspected the vessel. The damage was greater than they supposed. The petrol pipe union had been snapped; one of the stays of the starboard plane was broken in two; and a bullet had pierced a hole near the bottom of one of the petrol cans, the contents of which had almost entirely trickled away. They had only another half can of the spirit left. This was a very disturbing discovery, but it suggested at the same time what a lucky escape they had had. They might well have expected that the heat caused by the impact of the bullet would set the petrol on fire.
"Rather a long job before us," said Errington; "that is, if we try to mend the stay."
"The pipe won't take long," said Burroughs. "There's a bit of rubber tubing in the locker. We can stick the broken ends of the pipe into that. The stay is a different matter."
"Couldn't we leave that alone, and trust to our speed on the water?" Errington suggested.
"Rather risky. Unless the blackguards have got sick of waiting all night and sheered off, they'll spot us as soon as we take the river, and another shot might do for us altogether. No; we must mend the stay somehow, and then fly inland until we're out of harm's way--until the petrol gives out."
"But the stay must be welded; and we can't do that without hammering. If the gunboat's crew are anywhere about they are sure to hear the row, and find us out in no time."
"We'll have to chance that," said Burroughs. "A worse thing is the want of proper tools. There's a hammer in the locker, but we haven't got a forge. We can make a fire in that old stove there; but we've no bellows, and we can never get heat enough without."
"Never say die. Where there's a stove there ought to be bellows. I'm going to look round. But work before breakfast, and no supper the night before, doesn't make you feel amiable, does it?"
"While you are looking for the bellows I'll stroll along the shore and find out what sort of a place we're on. It's just as well to know something about our whereabouts."
Burroughs walked past the sampan where Chung Pi had passed the night. A thick white mist lay over the swamp, through which nothing was visible beyond two or three yards. Chung Pi was sitting in the sampan with his arms tightly folded. He seemed to have shrunk; Lo San and Chin Tai also were blue with hunger and cold. Burroughs felt sorry for them all.
"I regret having been compelled to inflict these inconveniences on you, noble captain," he said; "it is a pity our charms have not availed."
"Ah! If you had not gone back for the second talisman we should have been safe," said Chung Pi mournfully.
Burroughs had heard nothing about the second talisman, but he did not ask for an explanation, merely promising that Chung Pi should enjoy a substantial feast as soon as they reached Sui-Fu.
Proceeding along the shore, picking his way carefully because of the mist, he had walked for about a quarter of a mile when he came suddenly upon a sampan, and halted, fearing that it might belong to the enemy. But as he stood there surrounded by the clinging fog, he heard Errington's voice apparently only a few yards away. The explanation flashed upon him at once. They were on a small island, encompassed by a continuous screen of reeds. This was in a measure reassuring, for it diminished the risk of being discovered.
He moved forward. Errington saw a figure looming through the mist, and instantly challenged.
"It's all right, Pidge. I've made a tour of the place; it's an island. Any luck?"
"Yes, I've found a cranky pair of bellows, very Chinese, in one of the huts. We can start our forge at once.... Hullo!"
The exclamation was provoked by the sound of a shot in the distance.
"What's that mean, I wonder?" said Burroughs.
"Don't know. Shooting a duck for breakfast, perhaps. It's pretty clear that the beggars haven't given us up. When we start hammering they'll hear us and are sure to find us out."
"Better carry the stove into one of the huts and shut yourself up there. The sound will be deadened then. I wish now I'd brought my engineer; he'd have made a better job of it than you and Lo San; I can't help, I'm sorry to say; my wretched arm is as stiff as a poker."
"I've taken off the broken stay; half-an-hour's work ought to finish the job as soon as we get the fire going. This mist is a godsend; they can't see our smoke."
"Well, you take the two boys to lend a hand in the hut, while I keep an eye on Chung Pi and listen for the enemy."
The servants carried the stove and the broken stay into the largest of the huts. One of the others furnished plenty of wood for the fire, and in a few minutes they had a good blaze, and began the work of welding the stay. Burroughs was disconcerted to find that although the hut was shut up as closely as the ramshackle timbers allowed, the sound of hammering was distinctly audible outside. He sat on the sampan beside the dejected figure of Chung Pi, peering through the mist, and listening intently.
By and by he fancied he heard voices from the direction of the channel, and a few minutes afterwards the muffled splash of paddles struck his ear. He waited until he was no longer in doubt that the sounds were approaching; then, taking Chung Pi by the sleeve, he hurried him up to the hut where the work was going on.
"They're coming this way, Pidge," he said. "Better knock off until we know what's happening."
"I'll take Lo San down to the shore," said Errington. "Let us hope they'll miss the place."
At the shore Errington and the Chinaman stood listening in silence. The sound of paddles was now distinctly audible, growing louder every moment. Presently there were mingled with it the high-toned voices of Chinamen.
"Can you hear what they say?" Errington whispered.
Lo San bent forward.
"He say 'Come this side,'" he whispered. "He savvy this place all same."
"How many boats?"
"My tinkee two piecee sampan. Hai! He say: 'This side bobbely; muss belongey place where tings belongey pilates.'"
Such fragments as these were alarming. The boats could not be more than thirty yards away, and it seemed as though one of the men knew of the pirates' lair, and having suspected that the hammering had proceeded thence, was trying to guide the party towards it. But gradually the sounds receded. Lo San heard one man suggest that they should go back to the ship. Apparently they had failed to find their way in the mist. A more distant voice seemed to acquiesce in the suggestion, and the sounds died away until there was again complete silence.
Then Errington returned to the hut and resumed work on the stay, while Burroughs, this time leaving Chung Pi behind, went down to the shore to keep watch. The mist was gradually lifting; the screen of reeds facing the island first became visible, then a short stretch of the waterway that cut it in two. Little by little the whole prospect became clear; from behind came the dull hammering.
It was perhaps half-an-hour after Errington had recommenced work when Burroughs again caught the distant splash of oars. He instantly ran up to the hut and gave the word to cease work; then returned with Errington and Lo San to the shore. Nearer and nearer drew the sounds. There was no doubt that the pursuers were making in the direction of the island.
The watchers dropped down behind one of the stranded sampans and peered anxiously over the edge. If the approaching boat or boats came within sight of the island, to escape discovery was impossible. The Englishmen thought dismally of their chances if it came to a fight. They had a couple of revolvers; the Chinamen had their knives; but the pursuers, besides being more numerous, were without doubt completely armed. There could be only one end to the struggle, and there was no means of avoiding it. The stay was not completely repaired; it had to be refitted to the plane; and if the pursuers' boat held on its present course, as indicated by the growing sound, it must come within sight of the island long before the hydroplane could be got ready.
The voices of the approaching men now sounded so near that the watchers expected every moment their boat to glide into view on the waterway. They heard even the swishing of the rushes as the craft pushed its way among them. Suddenly there was a change. The sounds appeared to take a slightly different direction.
"He say, 'Muss belongey this side,'" whispered Lo San.
A few moments passed, during which the sounds grew somewhat fainter. Then they ceased abruptly: it was as if the men had suddenly found that which they sought. The silence continued, and Errington became alarmed. What were the pursuers about? He felt that he must know. Whispering his intention to Burroughs, he stepped into the water, waded noiselessly across to the nearest bed of reeds, skirted the outer edge, and disappeared from view.
He had not gone more than a dozen yards when he guessed what had happened. The man who had professed to know the island had lost his way, as was very natural in a passage that had many bewildering turns, with openings here and there among the reeds, which it must be difficult to distinguish one from another. The course which the boat had taken was plainly indicated by the bent and broken reeds among which it had been forced. Wading very cautiously in the same direction, and bending low, so that he was almost completely concealed, Errington in a few seconds saw with great surprise the nose of an empty boat projecting above the reeds, and apparently resting on dry land. The stern of the boat was hidden.
Instantly the explanation flashed upon him. The pursuers had lighted upon another patch of firm land, of which there were many dotted about the swamp, and imagining it to be the island of which they were in search, had gone ashore to explore the place.
Errington wondered how large the patch of dry land might be. If it were no longer than the island on which the hydroplane was beached, the men would soon discover their mistake, return to the boat, and continue their search. It was almost incredible that they should then fail to find the other island, within thirty yards of them. Was it possible in any way to check them?
A sudden idea occurred to him. Retracing his steps through the icy cold water, he came to the shore where Burroughs was anxiously awaiting his return, and waded to the hydroplane. From this he took the boat-hook, a long light pole of bamboo. Then putting his fingers to his lips, he set off again through the water, in nervous dread lest, short as his absence had been, the pursuers had had time to come back to their boat.
To his great relief, when he reached the spot, nobody was in sight. The boat remained as he had left it. Standing concealed among the reeds, he thrust the boat-hook forward, and after a few seconds' groping caught the hidden stern of the boat and drew it gently towards him--slowly and carefully, so as to make the least possible noise. The boat had not been tied up. It slid down the shelving bank inch by inch until it floated. Errington drew it on, through the reeds, which rustled unavoidably as it passed through them; then, turning his back, he towed it as rapidly as he could up the waterway towards his own island.
"Marooned, old chap," he said cheerfully to Burroughs, who started up in amazement. "But the water's deadly cold!"
CHAPTER XX
WILL-O'-THE-WISP
Six men had landed from the boat, convinced that they had come to the island from which the sound of hammering had proceeded. Their guide was somewhat perplexed at the absence of huts, but concluded that he had come to another part of the island, and led his companions through a tangle of shrubs and brushwood, expecting to come upon the huts from the rear. But ten minutes' search over the ground proved him to be mistaken, and the party retraced their steps, intending to proceed farther in their boat.
They stood rooted in consternation when, reaching the spot where they had left the boat, they discovered its disappearance. But it did not occur to them at first that any stealthy hand had been concerned. One reviled another for not having drawn the boat high enough up the shore, supposing that it had slipped down by its own weight. The strange thing was that, there being little or no current, it had so completely disappeared. They ran up and down the banks peering into the rushes, becoming more and more angry and perplexed as the suspicion dawned upon them that the boat had been stolen.
Meanwhile Errington had explained to Burroughs what had happened. They were congratulating themselves on having at least won a respite, during which the repairing of the stay might be finished, when they heard a loud shout from the men who had thus been marooned.
"There were two boats last night," said Errington. "They're calling to the other."
The shout was repeated, several men calling together. And then came a faint call in answer.
"My tinkee 'nother boat come this side chop-chop," said Lo San.
Again the shout was raised, and an answer came, a little less faintly, from somewhere in the distance.
"We shall have the others on us in no time," said Burroughs. "How long will the job take now?"
"Ten minutes to get the fire up again and finish welding, five to fix it," replied Errington.
"There's just a chance then, if you hurry up," said Burroughs. "They may be some time finding the fellows you have marooned. When they do find them, they'll search the whole neighbourhood, and there isn't the ghost of a chance of their not finding us, especially with the hammering going on again."
"I tell you what," said Errington. "D'you think you could manage to lend a hand while Chin Tai finishes the job? He can't do it alone, or Lo San either; but with you to keep an eye on it I think he could."
"I could do that. Why?"
"Because I could then lead the beggars off the scent. Lo San and I can use this boat. My idea is to row out a little way and hide in the reeds until the second boat has come up and taken off the men; then to show ourselves and make them chase us into the main channel. We both know the swamp pretty well, and we could lead them such a dance that you'd have plenty of time to get things finished here. You may be sure that when they see it's their boat they'll be keen enough to overtake us."
"But they know there are more than two of us," Burroughs objected; "and when they hear the hammering again, they will very likely drop you for the bigger game."
"Don't begin the hammering at once. Wait till you hear me coo-ee, which won't be until I've drawn them pretty far away. All we want is a quarter of an hour's grace, and it'll be strange if I can't play them so long."
"And what about us? Are we to fly out and pick you up?"
"Better wait for me. I'll get back here. When the repairs are finished it won't take a minute to get the boat afloat, and as you can't possibly get up enough speed among these rushes to fly, I'd better be here: I know the place, you don't."
"All right, then. And the sooner you start the better; the second boat is coming up pretty fast, judging by the shouts."
Errington got into the boat with Lo San, and pulled off quietly. He was in something of a quandary. He wished the Chinamen to see him as soon as they had taken off their stranded companions, but until then to remain undiscovered by both parties. This was difficult to manage, because the only point from which he would be visible from the shore where he had found the boat was the entrance of the narrow cross passage from the wider waterway leading to the island. If he took up his position there, he would be seen first by the crew of the second boat.
To overcome the difficulty both he and Lo San had to get into the water and lug the boat through a mass of reeds, behind which they could see without being seen. They had hardly concealed themselves when the second boat came round a bend in the winding waterway, and, guided by the shouts of the marooned crew, swung round to the right. The moment they were out of sight, Errington and Lo San dragged their boat back through the reeds, and lay to, waiting until they should hear that the men had been taken off.
There was a tremendous hubbub of explanations when the two parties of Chinamen met.
"What are they saying?" asked Errington, as he paddled gently towards the entrance of the passage up which the boat had disappeared.
"My no can tell," said Lo San. "He piecee fella makee plenty too muchee bobbely."
At a slight diminution in the uproar Errington guessed that the explanations, whatever they were, were over, and that the men were being taken into the boat. With a stroke of the paddle he brought the nose of his boat to the edge of the reed-bed, where, by stretching forward, he could see what was going on. There were eight men in the boat; two were still on the bank, waiting until room was made for them. Errington smiled: the boat thus overloaded would not be difficult to outdistance.
The last man was stepping into the boat. The moment had come. Whispering to Lo San to make as much noise with his paddle as possible, he gave the word to go. The two paddles struck the water together with a loud splash, and the boat shot ahead in full view of the Chinamen, making directly for the main channel leading to the river. Terrific yells escaped the pursuers when they saw their boat dashing away from them with a white man on board. Errington had little doubt that his stratagem had succeeded.
The passage wound so frequently, and the reeds grew so high, that it was impossible to see whether the Chinamen were actually in pursuit unless he waited for them. He stopped paddling at a spot where about ten yards of the waterway was visible behind, In a minute or two the nose of the pursuing boat emerged from behind the reeds. Instantly Errington started again, and was out of sight in five seconds. The Chinamen broke into fierce yells when they saw him; one of them snapped a rifle, but the shot only disturbed the water-fowl. Errington wondered with a little anxiety whether a third boat was in the swamp ahead of him, or would be lowered from the gunboat at the sound of the shot; but the only course possible at present was to go straight ahead. He had seen by the sluggish movement of the pursuing boat, and its depth in the water, that he would be an easy winner in the race.
Thus the chase went on down the winding channel. Every now and then Errington slackened his pace, so that the pursuers might have a glimpse of him--not long enough to take aim--and be drawn farther and farther from Burroughs. They were so intent on recovering their boat that they had apparently forgotten the hydroplane and the other members of its crew.
At last Errington came out into the pool. He paddled quickly across it, in a direction away from the river, satisfying himself by a rapid glance around that no other boat was in sight. Just as he reached the farther side, the Chinamen's boat shot out from among the reeds. They stopped paddling, looking round for their quarry, and catching sight of him near a reed-bed about three hundred yards away, they opened fire. The bullets passed unpleasantly close, and Errington at once drove the boat into one of the many narrow channels, and was out of sight in a few seconds. Thereupon the Chinamen gave chase again; but when they reached the other side of the pool, and saw that the enemy had disappeared, they apparently recognized that they were outmatched, and stopped to consider what they should do.
At this moment a loud and prolonged coo-ee sounded from the midst of the swamp. Whether they recognized it as a signal or not, it roused them to desperate energy. Concealed by the reeds, Errington listened to a violent altercation among them. They were disputing which of them should enter the water and so lighten the boat. It ended in three of the six who had been marooned slipping over the side and wading slowly towards a small dry patch, where they posted themselves, holding their rifles ready to shoot at the fugitives if they should reappear. The remaining men drove their boat rather more rapidly than before in the direction from which the coo-ee had come.
Errington had not seen what had been done, but hearing the boat approaching, he started again, paddling easily until the pursuers came into view. The fact that they had lightened the boat did not trouble him. His boat was of about the same size, and Lo San and he could easily keep ahead. But he was somewhat anxious lest he should presently find himself in a blind alley. He did not know the part of the swamp to which he had now come, and it was quite possible that, entering a passage that seemed free, he would come upon an impenetrable belt of reeds that would form an effectual barrier. If at such a moment the enemy were in sight, he might well be overhauled before he could get free.
The pursuing boat, although no longer burdened with a double crew, was lower in the water than that in which Errington and Lo San were. It flashed upon Errington that if he could only find a channel where the depth of water was not more than sufficient to allow the passage of his boat, the other might stick in the mud and relieve him of further trouble. He remembered that, when circling the pool with Lo San, he had come to very shallow water at the end farthest from the river, and wondered whether he could find his way there now.
Turning at a venture into a channel at his right hand, comparatively free from reeds, he struck out rapidly, splashing with the paddles in order to lead the enemy on. By great good fortune, the channel led by a tortuous course to the upper end of the pool. A little search discovered the shallow part, and marking it carefully in his mind by the adjacent reed clumps, he backed to the entrance of the channel down which he had just come, ready to dash ahead the moment the pursuers came in sight.
They gave a loud shout when they saw him; the distance between the boats was very little; and as Errington's moved away, the pursuers came on with redoubled energy. He led them straight for the shallows, hoping that they would follow directly in his wake. There was nothing to make them suspicious. They paddled hard, shouting with triumph when they saw that they were gaining. Foot by foot they neared the danger point; Errington held his breath in suspense. Then there came suddenly from the Chinamen a cry of a different kind. The boat, driving into the mud, had thrown them one upon another. One lost his paddle. When they recovered their balance, it was to find their boat stuck hopelessly in a mud-bank, and the other darting obliquely across the pool. Howling with rage, they seized their rifles. At the same moment there came shots from the patch of dry ground beyond the lower end, where the three men had caught sight of the fugitives speeding back to the channel from which they had first come. Their marksmanship at the moving target was bad. The shots from both parties fell harmlessly; and Errington disappeared from view.
"My tinkee topside pidgin, galaw!" cried Lo San gleefully. "One piecee lot this side, 'nother piecee lot that side" (he waved his arm towards the upper and the lower ends of the pool in succession). "No can do anyting. Massa Bullows he belongey bust laughin' what time you tellum."