CHAPTER XXIII.
The Boxers had evidently heard that Charlie and the two Chinamen had ventured to leave the shelter of the mission enclosure, and it was plain that they had hoped to surprise them. And had they been a minute earlier, they would undoubtedly have succeeded in doing so. In fact, the foremost man was so close upon them that he seized the ladder just as it was being raised, and, tugging hard, pulled it out of Barton's hands. This capture, trivial though it was, filled the Boxers with enthusiasm. With fierce shouts they rushed at the gates and attacked them with hatchets. But, as the gates were of iron, and had been made and fixed with the intention of resisting such assaults, their efforts were in vain. Soon they recognised that they were wasting their strength, and, at a signal from their leader, they turned away and ran to seek shelter. Soon there was not a living Boxer visible to the missionaries and their friends.
They had had enough fighting for one day, and did not again expose themselves. The besieged party took the opportunity to strengthen their defences and make other preparations for a long siege.
'I hope,' Barton said, in answer to a question from Charlie, 'that we shall be relieved within a week from to-day, as the missionaries who had to seek shelter here sent trustworthy messengers to Peking and Wei-hai-wei with letters to the British officials, telling them of their sufferings and whither they were bound; and the day before you arrived I sent off two messengers with notes for the captain of any British warship they could find, stating that we were besieged.'
About ten o'clock on the following morning the Boxers renewed their attack, but in a manner which the defenders had not expected. Instead of rushing into the open, as they had done before, they fired from the houses facing the mission building.
'Get the women and children into the basement at once,' Barton shouted to one of his colleagues, for some of the Boxers were firing from the roofs of the houses into the mission enclosure.
'The Boxers take good care to keep under cover,' Charlie remarked. 'Evidently we have taught them to respect us.'
'They won't remain concealed for many hours,' said Ping Wang. 'When they get excited they will make another attack on the gate.'
His words came true. For nearly one hour the Boxers continued to fire upon the missionaries' house, doing severe damage to it. Their success elated them, and the fact that the besieged did not reply to the attack probably made them believe that they had used up all their ammunition. At any rate, they suddenly rushed out of the houses and made for the mission gate, waving flags and shouting wildly. Fred and Barton, at some newly-made loop-holes, and Charlie, Mr. Wilkins, and Ping Wang at their former positions, fired rapidly at the advancing mob, which, with loud shouts and wild gestures, rushed at the gate to make another attempt to destroy it. But the gate resisted all their efforts.
'Oh, for a Maxim!' Charlie sighed. 'That would disperse them.'
'So would boiling water,' Mr. Wilkins remarked, 'but we can't spare it. I wonder——'
What Mr. Wilkins intended to say was never known, for at that moment Number One, who was stationed, revolver in hand, some yards away, hailed them excitedly: 'Lun, lun!' he shouted; 'Boxer man climbee up ladder plenty quick.'
Charlie and Mr. Wilkins looked out from among the sandbags, and saw that the Boxers had placed two ladders a foot or two to the left of where Number One was posted. As the defenders looked out, some who had remained under cover fired at them. Charlie drew back instantly, for a bullet passed within an inch of his head, and, hurrying down from his platform, ran to the spot where the Boxers hoped to scale the wall. One of them was already on it. He dropped from the wall into the mission enclosure, and rushed with wild shouts at Number One, who fired but failed to hit him. But Charlie was close at hand, and, when the Boxer was about ten yards from Number One he pressed the trigger of his rifle, and the daring fanatic fell. But four more Boxers had dropped into the enclosure, and, not daunted by the fate of their comrade, were rushing at Charlie and Number One. The latter fired his revolver, and, to his great surprise, shot the foremost Boxer in the left leg. Almost at the same moment Charlie put another out of the fight, but, before he could reload, the third Boxer was close upon him. Dropping the cartridge, Charlie grasped his rifle in both hands near the muzzle, and, swinging it over his shoulder, brought the butt down on his assailant's head. The fourth man, seeing the fate of his comrades, tried to escape, but his efforts were fruitless.
'Tell him to surrender,' Charlie said to Number One.
Number One did so, and the Boxer at once went down on his knees, and, bending forward, placed his forehead and the palms of his hands on the ground.
'Get some rope and bind him securely,' Charlie instructed Number One, who obeyed at once.
Several other Boxers had been sitting on top of the wall, watching the fight, and, when they saw that their comrades were getting the worst of it, instead of going to their help, they retired quickly to join the mob, which, however, had once more taken to flight. The gallant little band of defenders were, naturally, very pleased at their victory, which, alas! they soon discovered was very dearly bought. To their great grief, the veteran missionary, Mr. Wilkins, had been shot through the throat and was dead. Evidently the fatal wound had been received when he looked out to see if the Boxers really were climbing the wall. He was buried at sunset in a corner of the mission enclosure, and his death cast a gloom over the defenders.
Two weeks passed away, and there was still no news of the long-expected relief. Food was so scarce that it was indeed wonderful how the besieged managed to exist. Four of them had died, and were now lying in the little cemetery in the corner of the enclosure. Others were seriously ill, and it was feared that, unless relief came speedily, they, too, would soon succumb.
The Boxers had altered their plans on finding that they could not carry the mission buildings by assault, and now relied upon starving out the defenders. By day or by night scarcely a single Boxer was to be seen, although hundreds were within a stone's-throw. Every building that could be seen from the mission had a Boxer flag planted on it, and every house facing it had been fortified. From these houses the Boxers, day and night, fired on the mission, the residential part of which, except the basement, was in a ruined condition. To cross from the platforms to the mission house was a work of danger, for some trained Chinese soldiers, who had joined the Boxers, were by no means bad shots, and, as they could look down into the enclosure, they fired every time that one of the defenders was seen. They used a large amount of ammunition, but without drawing the fire of the missionaries and their friends.
Another week passed—the most disastrous that the besieged had gone through. Two more of them had died from fatigue, fever, and want of proper food. The mule which had drawn the missionaries' trap for some years, had been killed and skinned, and in the course of two or three days the last of it would be eaten. When that was gone there would not be an atom of food left. If it had not been for the women and children, the men would have made a sortie and died facing overwhelming odds.
'We must remain where we are for their sake,' Barton declared, and the rest agreed with him. Then they discussed how to make the remainder of the mule-flesh last a day or two longer than they hoped; but they were already on such short rations that it was almost impossible to reduce them.
'What's that?' Charlie exclaimed, suddenly. 'Didn't you hear anything?'
'Only those two shots which the Boxers fired,' Fred replied.
'No, not that. I thought I heard a cheer.'
'Imagination, I'm afraid,' Barton said, sorrowfully, but he had scarcely uttered the words when the sound of firing in the distance was heard distinctly.
'Relief!' Charlie declared, excitedly. 'I'm certain it was an English cheer which I heard.'
'The firing is outside the town,' Ping Wang remarked, 'and the Boxers have heard it. Look, they're leaving their shelter.'
The sound of the firing had evidently caused the greatest excitement among the Boxers. They streamed out of the houses and ran off in the direction of the gates through which the advancing force, whether friend or foe, would have to enter the town.
The sound of firing in the distance now became louder, and it was plain that a fierce fight was raging somewhere near the town gates. Soon they knew that the force attacking the town was winning, for several terror-stricken Chinamen rushed past the mission, seeking some place in which to hide.
"Charlie grasped his rifle in both hands."
"'This is a delightful surprise.'"
AFLOAT ON THE DOGGER BANK.
A Story of Adventure on the North Sea and in China.