Three-quarters of an hour after the first sound of firing was heard by
Charlie and his friends, a loud, unmistakably British cheer rang through
the air.
'They've entered the town,' Fred exclaimed, and cheered wildly. Every
Englishman, and Ping Wang also, joined in the cheer. Then they fell into
silence, listening to the distant sounds. The Boxers were yelling
furiously, hoping to terrify the Englishmen who had entered the town.
'They're marching straight through the town,' one of the missionaries
declared anxiously. 'Perhaps they don't know that we are here.'
'They are certain to be aware of that,' Barton answered. 'No doubt they
are going to secure the other gate.'
'My cally message to Number One soldier man,' Number One suggested. 'Say
Clistian missionalies big piecee hungy.'
'But the Boxers might kill you,' Barton hinted.
'Boxer man nebber killee me. My plenty clebber. Boxer man nebber catchee
me.'
'All right then; you may go.'
Number One grinned with delight, and, when the bamboo ladder had been
lowered over the wall, went off at a run.
Charlie, Fred, and their friends found the time pass very slowly. They
could hear that the English were fighting their way steadily through the
town, and every minute their anxiety to see their gallant countrymen
increased. Presently a loud British cheer told them that the other gate
had been captured. The firing now became less frequent, and in about ten
minutes it ceased entirely.
The excitement in the mission enclosure was now intense. The surviving
women and children came out of the basement where they had been
prisoners for more than three weeks, and climbed up on the platforms to
get the first view of their deliverers. The native Christians, who had
borne the hardships of the siege uncomplainingly, chatted and laughed
gaily. The sick and wounded lay in the little hospital with their eyes
fixed on the door.
'They're coming!' Charlie shouted a few minutes later, and the good news
thrilled both Englishmen and Chinamen.
The tramp of drilled men came nearer and nearer, and soon from out of
the street, almost facing the mission buildings, marched a British naval
officer. He gave a swift glance along the wall, and seeing the men and
women peering through the sandbags, he saluted them with his sword. They
answered him with a cheer, and instantly some fifty smiling, sun-burnt
tars burst into a loud 'Hip, hip, hoorah!'
With the smartness characteristic of our navy the men were formed up in
a line with their backs to the mission wall. The officer in command gave
one look at them, and then almost ran up the ladder which Barton had
lowered.
'It is!' Charlie exclaimed, delightedly, as the officer reached the top
of the ladder. 'It's our old friend Williams.'
'So it is,' Fred declared, as he recognised the officer of the revenue
cutter, who had captured the coper in which his brother and Ping Wang
were unwilling passengers.
Williams heard his name mentioned as he vaulted over the wall on to the
platform, and the next moment he recognised his friends.
'Well, this is a delightful surprise!' he exclaimed, as he grasped
Charlie's hand.
'It's still more delightful for us,' Fred declared.
'You've had a very rough time, I fear,' said Williams, when he had
shaken hands with his three friends. 'You look almost like skeletons,
every man of you. However, you shall soon have a good feed.'
'Shall we open the gate?' Barton asked, when he and his colleagues had
been introduced to Williams.
'Certainly,' Williams replied; but when he saw how securely the gate had
been barricaded, he knew that the task would be more than the
half-starved defenders of the mission could accomplish.
'I'll call some of my men to do it,' he said, and in a few moments
twelve jovial, sun-burnt, travel-stained sailors had climbed the ladder
and entered the enclosure. Instantly the men, women, and children
surrounded them, grasping their hands, and showering blessings on them.
'Come along, men,' Williams shouted out. 'Down with that barricade, and
open the gates.'
The sailors started their work at once. In a few minutes the barricade,
which had taken the missionaries some days to build, was torn down, and
the gates thrown open. Number One was the first person to enter the
enclosure. He carried a big bowl of cooked rice, which was probably
loot, and, hurrying to the ladies and children, placed the tempting dish
before them.
'Welly good,' he declared, emphatically; 'makee plenty stlong.'
When every one had had as much as was safe after their long fast,
Williams drew Charlie, Fred, and Ping Wang aside. 'I suppose you haven't
succeeded in getting that treasure?' he said.
'No, but we got very close to it,' Charlie replied, and then told him of
their adventures in Kwang-ngan.
'You've been unfortunate,' Williams admitted. 'However, I'll see what I
can do. We expect some Japanese troops here to-morrow, and as soon as
they arrive we are all going to march on Kwang-ngan. Tell me exactly
where the idol is.'
'Let us go to Kwang-ngan with you,' Charlie suggested.
'But, my dear fellows,' Williams replied, 'you're not in a fit state for
any more fighting.'
'It's only sleep we want,' Charlie declared. 'We shall be as fit as any
one after we have had a good long rest.'
'If that's the case, I shall be glad of your company; but you must turn
in at once.'
'Before we do that we want to know how it is that you are here. When we
last saw you, you had no idea of going to China.'
'Well, I'll soon explain that. My capture of that coper on which I found
you and Ping Wang won the approval of the authorities, and, fortunately
for me, I was able to effect another capture, about three weeks later.
Soon afterwards I received orders to go up to London, and in less than a
week I was on my way to China to join my present ship.'
Charlie, Fred, and Ping Wang heartily congratulated their friend, but he
cut them short by telling them that if they wanted to accompany him to
Kwang-ngan they would have to turn in at once, and get as much sleep as
possible.
'If that's the case, good-night,' Charlie replied, and all the three
hurried away to their beds in the basement, and slept soundly.
When they awoke they found that the Japanese troops had arrived, and
that the British sailors were to start within half an hour for
Kwang-ngan. After a rapid but hearty breakfast they marched out, with
the rifles at the shoulder, to report themselves to Williams, whom they
found outside the enclosure inspecting the men. Some of the newly
arrived Japanese soldiers had already been posted around the mission
wall, and the Japanese flag flew, side by side with the Union Jack, over
the gateway.
'Well,' Williams exclaimed, cheerfully, as he shook hands with Charlie,
'do you still wish to come with us?'
'Certainly,' Charlie replied, speaking for all three of them.
'Then you had better say "good-bye" to your missionary friends, for they
must all start for Tien-tsin this morning. They will be safer there.'
Charlie, Fred, and Ping Wang hurried back to the mission buildings, but
Barton was the only one of their late comrades in danger who was not
sound asleep. They bade farewell to him, and extracted a promise from
him that when next he came to England he would visit them at Lincoln.
While they had been talking, Williams had marched his men off towards
the town gate which opened into the road leading to Kwang-ngan. Charlie,
Fred, and Ping Wang ran after them and overtook them just as they were
quitting the town. They fell in at the rear of the company. Nine of the
ten miles which lay between Su-ching and Kwang-ngan were covered in
about two hours and a half, and they proceeded more cautiously, but for
some time met with no opposition, although, when they drew near
Kwang-ngan they were surprised to find that it was a very
formidable-looking place, bristling with big guns.
'They are not guns,' Ping Wang declared, smiling. 'They are simply
circles which the Boxers have painted on the walls to represent guns, in
the hope of frightening us.'
'But I was told that they had two guns,' said Williams.
'That is correct. One is mounted on either side of the gate.'
Ping Wang had barely finished speaking when both guns boomed, and their
range was excellent, the shells bursting among the sailors. One man was
killed and six were wounded. Charlie was thrown to the ground, but, much
to his surprise, he found on getting up that he was not hurt.
The sailors now advanced quickly, and the Chinese gunners being
apparently unable to alter their range, the shells passed harmlessly
over their heads.
The attacking party soon got to within three hundred yards from the
town, and the Boxers lining the wall, having so far received no hurt,
became reckless. A few of them fired their rifles, but three hundred
yards is a long range for most Chinamen, and not one of them succeeded
in doing any damage. Nevertheless, Williams considered that the time had
arrived to give the Boxers a warning. He gave the order to his men to
lie down and fire a volley. It was a splendid one, and the terror which
it caused among the Boxers was almost comical. The uninjured men hid
themselves instantly, and not a single threat, or shout of defiance was
heard from them as the sailors sprang to their feet and ran a hundred
yards nearer to the wall.
They lay there unmolested for three or four minutes until the 'advance'
was again sounded. As they rushed forward, the Boxers opened fire upon
them with rifles and bows and arrows, and three men fell. But their
comrades, breaking into a loud cheer, continued their advance, and
arrived at the wall with but few casualties on the way. They had brought
from Su-ching twelve long bamboo ladders, and these were speedily placed
against the wall at a few yards distance from each other. The Japanese
also had provided themselves with ladders.
At the signal from their officers, the men climbed nimbly up the
ladders, and all along the south wall the fight became fierce. Many of
the attacking party were shot before they reached the topmost rung, but
their fall simply added to the determination of their comrades, and in a
few minutes nearly a score of them had scaled the wall, and were engaged
in a desperate hand-to-hand fight with the Boxers.
Charlie, Fred, and Ping Wang were not among the first dozen to enter the
town, as the sailors who had fixed the ladder by which they wished to
ascend declared that it was their right to be the first to mount it.
When the Chinamen found that they were unable to drive out the men who
had entered the town, and that others were scrambling over the wall to
their assistance, they turned and fled, closely pursued by the sailors.
Within twenty minutes the whole English force held the village. Before
long, Fred, Charlie, and Ping Wang found themselves close to the wall of
Chin Choo's residence.
(_Concluded on page 410._)
TOYS FROM THE STREETS.
(_Concluded from page 390._)
There is not much to be said about our last batch of toys. The cat and
her kittens is a wonderful toy for the money; and the round box with a
crown on top is a good place to keep the pennies for the next Christmas.
The doll in a box, the two other dolls, the fans, and the frog, are all
actually made in Japan, and shipped to England. Fancy the little
Japanese boys and girls turning their hands--for these toys are all made
by hand--to work just to give pleasure to little boys and girls far off
in other countries! The reason why these Japanese toys can be made so
cheaply and sent so far, and yet sold at a profit, is that the Japanese,
old and young alike, are able to live much more frugally and cheaply
than Europeans. Japanese shipping companies, too, are anxious to get
trade, and carry the toys very cheaply: during the war they actually
guaranteed owners against loss or capture by the enemy.
[Illustration: More Toys from the Streets.]
But we must say good-bye to these toys. Remember, if you are fortunate
enough to possess any of them, from what distant lands they come, and
what pains are taken in making them. Remember, too, what a hard life the
poor men and women who sell them have. These toys, like most other
gifts, teach the old Christmas lesson of kindness to others and
thankfulness for blessings.
[Illustration: "We charged at the midst of the foe."]
AGAINST ODDS.
We knew, on that white frosty morning,
Our rivals would make an attack,
But doubt and timidity scorning,
We held on our snow-covered track.
They burst from their gate helter-skelter;
We counted them--four against two!
There wasn't a moment for shelter,
And what could we possibly do?
The snow-balls like bullets were flying,
Retreat was unworthy and mean;
So, all their wild volley defying,
I slipped my umbrella between.
Then I called to my friend, and together,
Half sheltered behind it, you know,
The storm of the battle to weather,
We charged at the midst of the foe.
The gateway they bravely defended,
Till forced through the half-open door,
And thus, in a victory, ended
The battle of two against four.
HIS FIRST WOLF HUNT.
By HAROLD ERICSON.
(_Concluded from page 391._)
When we reached Cronstadt Tom's ankle pained him a good deal; he had
skated five miles upon it, and the injured part was swollen.
'What about getting home?' I asked in some anxiety, but Tom declared
that after a couple of hour's rest at the inn in Cronstadt, where we
were stopping for a meal, his foot would be as well as ever it had been.
So it was, he said, when, at about two o'clock in the afternoon, we
started for home. But there was no life in his skating, and presently he
admitted that it hurt him badly. Two miles were covered with pain and
difficulty, and many stoppages. Matters began to grow somewhat serious;
at least, I thought so, though I said nothing of my fears. We were
sitting on the ice, Tom holding his ankle against it in hopes that the
cold would reduce the inflammation, when a sound in the distance caused
us both to raise our heads. Several black specks had suddenly appeared
upon the white ice-field behind us. Were they a party of skaters? Were
they----
'I say!' suddenly exclaimed Tom. 'Wolves!'
I am not ashamed to say that my heart sank when my companion pronounced
the black, moving spots in the distance to be wolves. I was afraid of
wolves, and always had been; I think most boys and girls generally are,
and I fancy that 'Little Red Riding Hood' is more or less to blame for
it, together with other tales in which these animals figure.
I was frightened, very frightened. My first impulse was to take to my
skates and fly like the wind before the coming terror. Then, like a jet
of cold water, came the thought of Tom's bad ankle. He had risen to his
feet, however, at sight of the wolves, and evidently meant to forget his
sprain.
'We had better be off, old chap,' he said. 'They are coming our way. We
can race them well enough on skates. It's nearer to Cronstadt than to
the half-way hut, but they could cut us off on our way to Cronstadt,
and, besides, there is all that horrible cat-ice near the harbour. Are
you ready? Skate steadily, then; no need to get done up.'
I said nothing about his ankle, trusting that the greater trouble might
possibly have driven away all recollection of the lesser, and for a mile
we skated evenly and rapidly forward. Occasionally we looked back over
our shoulders to see how we were holding our pursuers, for undoubtedly
we were being pursued. We seemed to hold our own fairly well; they had
gained upon us, no doubt, but not very much. At this rate there was no
danger of our being caught--if only, that is, Tom's ankle did not 'go.'
But, alas! scarcely had we covered that one mile when my companion
pulled up.
'I can't go on another yard without resting my ankle, Bobby,' he said.
'Go on without me, old chap, I shall think none the worse of you; you
couldn't do me any good, you know, if they caught me; besides, look
here.' To my surprise and delight Tom suddenly produced from an inner
pocket a small revolver. He was sitting on the ground now, and he loaded
the little weapon with cartridges, which he took out of his waistcoat
pocket. 'This will keep them at bay all right, so, you see, I'm as safe
as ninepence. Go on, don't waste time.'
'Don't be an idiot,' said I. 'You must think me a pretty average cad if
you suppose I am going to leave you alone and run away.'
Tom glanced up at me and smiled. 'To tell you the truth, old chap, I
never supposed you would,' he said; 'but I had to make the suggestion.'
'Why didn't you tell me you had the revolver?' I asked, ignoring the
rest of his speech; 'and what made you bring it?'
'My father said he had known wolves about the gulf in severe weather. I
said nothing about it for fear you wouldn't care to come. Look at the
brutes, they're only a quarter of a mile away! I feel better now; let's
see how far I can get this time. If they come too near, I shall fire a
shot. Unfortunately I only brought these six cartridges, so we must not
waste our fire.'
For a few hundred yards Tom travelled well. We gained on the wolves,
which, I suppose, observed this fact, for the leader suddenly set up a
howl which set my blood running cold, and the others instantly followed
suit. There were nine of them; I had counted them while Tom rested.
Manfully Tom struggled on. I could see that the exertion was hurting him
fearfully.
'I don't think I can go on _very_ much farther without a rest,' he said,
presently. 'The trouble is that next time we wait about they will catch
us up.'
'Then you will have to shoot, that's all,' said I, as cheerfully as I
could, considering that I was in reality shivering with terror.
'Yes, I shall have to shoot. One shot will be enough, I expect. Probably
they will turn and run straight back to the forest at Lachta or
Oranienbaum, or wherever they come from. You are not frightened, old
chap, are you?'
'_Rather_ not,' said I. Then I added, conscientiously, 'At least, not
_very_ much. It's--it's rather a new experience for me, you see.'
A minute later Tom pulled up and sat down.
'Come behind me,' he said, 'just in case any of these brutes _should_
spring at us before I get my little toy to work on them. I shan't shoot
until they are within ten yards or so. I want to make sure of one, then
they will stop and eat him if they don't run away.'
I got behind Tom and crouched down, and we watched them coming. They
were now in full cry, heads down, like a pack of hounds. When within
fifty yards of us, the leader raised his head and saw us. He gave a
great yelp, and came scudding along, followed by his band. At twenty
yards they slowed down and stopped, seeming to lose heart. Suddenly one
sat down on his haunches, and his example was followed by two or three
others.
As for me, my teeth were all a-chatter with terror. I wished to suggest
to Tom that he should try the effect of a careful shot at one of the
sitting wolves, but no words would come. I felt as though I were in the
grip of a night-mare, awake to the horror of our position, and yet quite
helpless. Tom suddenly spoke.
'I am going to fire,' he said. 'Don't speak or move for a minute.' He
pointed his pistol, took a long aim, and pulled the trigger.
No wolf fell, but the shot produced a curious effect.
In an instant every wolf of the nine had 'dispersed' as though the pack
had been scattered by some mysterious force. They fled in every
direction except towards us. Tom uttered a cry of triumph. For a hundred
or two yards the wolves careered as though they were mad. At a furlong's
distance every wolf stopped and turned round. Not one of them uttered a
sound.
'What a bad shot!' said Tom. 'Idiot that I was! I don't understand these
things. Are you any good with them?'
I had found my tongue, and replied that I had practised at a mark
occasionally. 'You take one more shot, and then let me try one,' I
suggested.
'Good,' said Tom. 'I have been thinking. It's only about a mile to that
wide crack, the ten-footer. I think I could skate as far as that with an
effort. When we get near, I'll rest if necessary, and after that we will
fly it. I doubt if the wolves will follow us over.'
This was an excellent idea. We started off. If either of us had hoped
that the savage brutes at our heels would have been discouraged from
further pursuit, we were soon disappointed, for within a minute all nine
were again in full cry after us at two hundred yards' distance. For
three-quarters of a mile Tom skated on in agony.
'Now we will stop, and I will fire my second shot,' he said.
Once more our nine snarling friends found discretion the better part of
their valour, and stopped at a biscuit-toss from us, whining and howling
and looking grim enough to frighten the most iron nerves. Perhaps Tom's
hand shook a bit; at any rate, he missed again, and handed me over the
revolver with an exclamation of disgust. And again the wolves retired,
but not so far away this time.
We waited two or three minutes.
'Now we'll go,' said Tom, 'and this time we will reach and fly the
water-jump without stopping. Let them come close to our heels till we
are within fifty yards, then put on all the pace we can, and over we go.
I want to see whether we can't drown one or two of the brutes; they
don't look where they are going.'
We carried out this programme to the letter. At fifty yards from the
fissure we put on all the pace we could command, and we flew the open
water side by side, Tom clearing it beautifully in spite of the wrench
it gave him to do so. Then we stopped.
Having gone slowly for the last quarter of a mile, we had allowed the
wolves to gain upon us. This had excited them, and as we cleared the
water we could hear them in full bay close behind us. I dare say the
sound at our heels gave us wings.
The pack reached the fissure but ten yards behind us. The leader and
three others realised too late that they must rise to a leap; they
endeavoured to stop, but their impetus carried them over the edge and
into the water; of the rest, two leaped in a half-hearted manner, being
in two minds whether to stop or jump; both fell short into the water.
The last three cleared the fissure, and these, of course, occupied our
attention, for, too excited to remember discretion this time, they made
straight for us, open-mouthed. Tom had hurriedly taken off one skate,
and stood swinging it behind me, intending to make a fight of it. As for
me, when the nearest wolf--looking all fangs and blazing eyes--was five
yards from me, I pulled the trigger. I think I shut my eyes, but of this
I am not quite certain.
To my complete astonishment, the wolf came rolling and tumbling to my
feet, made an effort to rise, swayed and fell back dead. The other two
turned, took the fissure at a bound, and fled away. In the water two
wolves were still struggling; the rest had presumably gone under the ice
while endeavouring to climb over the slippery edge. Tom snatched the
pistol from me with a cheer; he put the muzzle to the ear of one of the
wolves and fired, killing him on the spot. The last made an heroic
effort, and succeeded in climbing out on the farther side. We pulled
Tom's wolf ashore.
Then we sat, like two children, and shouted and howled for joy and
triumph. We took off our skates and pocketed them, and fastening the
straps around the necks of our wolves, we actually dragged them, with
many stoppages, to the half-way hut. Here I left Tom, whose ankle was
swollen to the size of a dumpling, and skated home as fast as I could
move, realising that our 'people' might be anxious if some one did not
come to tell the tale. I went on winged feet, so happy was I, and I
think if a pack of five thousand wolves had fled howling at my heels, I
should not have cared much.
I soon got back, and a relief party was at once sent in the ice-yacht to
fetch Tom away in triumph.
[Illustration: "As we cleared the water we could hear the wolves close
behind."]
[Illustration: The treasure at last.]
AFLOAT ON THE DOGGER BANK.
A Story of Adventure on the North Sea and in China.
(_Concluded from page 403._)