tched out the box, secured one; then, taking off the
cap, which hung by a strap, I pulled the brass and leather telescope out
to its full extent, presented the large end at the mob, uttered as
savage a yell as I could and struck a fusee, which went off with a
crack, and flashed and sparkled with plenty of blaze.

The effect was instantaneous. Mistaking the big glass, which had been a
burden to me all day, for some terrible new form of gun, the swordsmen
uttered a wild yell of horror, and turned and fled, driving the unarmed
mob before them, all adding their savage cries of dread.

"Hoor-rah," shouted Barkins. "Now, boys, a Yankee tiger. Waggle the
glass well, Gnat. All together. Hurrah--rah--rah--rah--rah!"

We produced as good an imitation of the American cheer as we could, and
Ching supplemented it with a hideous crack-voiced yell, while I raised
and lowered the glass and struck another match.

As we looked up the street we could see part of the mob still running
hard, but the swordsmen had taken refuge to right and left, in doorways,
angles, and in side shops, and were peering round at us, watching every
movement.

"No' laugh!" said Ching anxiously. "Big fool. Think um bleech-loader.
Now, come 'long, walkee walkee blackward. I go first."

It was good advice, and we began our retreat, having the street to
ourselves for the first minute. My messmates supported me on either
side, and we walked backward with military precision.

"Well done, gun carriage," panted Barkins to me. "I say, Blacksmith,
who says the old glass isn't worth a hundred pounds now?"

"Worth a thousand," cried Smith excitedly. "But look out, they're
coming out of their holes again."

I made the object-glass end describe a circle in the air as we slowly
backed, and the swordsmen darted away to the shelters they had quitted
to follow us as they saw us in retreat. But as there was no report, and
they saw us escaping, they began to shout one to the other, and ran to
and fro, zig-zagging down the street after us, each man darting across
to a fresh place of shelter. And as the retreat went on, and no report
with a rush of bullets tore up the street, the men gained courage; the
mob high up began to gather again. Then there was distant yelling and
shouting, and the danger seemed to thicken.

"Is it much farther, Ching?" cried Barkins.

"Yes, velly long way," he replied. "No' got no levolvers?"

"No, I wish I had."

"Fine levolver