Under the Chinese Dragon: A Tale of Mongolia

by F. S. Brereton

Alphonse ground his teeth in a manner which would have made our hero squirm on any ordinary occasion. The Professor sucked hard at his cigar and muttered beneath his breath, while Hung threw himself upon the tantalising chain and tugged vainly at it. Then David recollected an incident he had watched at the beginning of the battle between themselves and the Chinese pirates.

'One moment, sir,' he said. 'An axe? Yes, I know where to find one.'

Without hint of his intentions, he cooly stepped on to the planks still uniting the two vessels, and leaped down upon the deck of the one which had proved such insecure shelter for them. Not a sound did his light shoes make, while his figure was swallowed up within a few seconds; for though it was already lighter, the dawn was not there yet, and gloom still hung over the water. Behind him he left a Professor not so unruffled as he had been. To speak the truth the leader of the party was dumfounded for the moment, and only awoke to the danger our hero was necessarily likely to encounter when the latter was already out of sight. He called to him loudly; he even leaped on to the planks himself. Then Alphonse stopped him with a grimace and a tug at the sleeve of his jacket.

'Pardon, monsieur,' he said, 'a leader stays with the bulk of his command. It is the young and brave who attempt such deeds. Monsieur David is no chicken; he will be back with us within the minute.'

'Or hacked to pieces by those villains; but you are right, I will stay. Still I wish that I had guessed his intentions. Dick there, and all the others, get ready, in case he is seen and pursued.'

Alphonse clicked the lock of his rifle promptly, while Dick ranged up at the end of the planks, his magazine revolver gripped in his hand. Then the ever-smiling Jong lisped an apology, pushed the Professor aside, and solemnly clambered on to the planks and crossed them. There was a huge knife in his hand, and his smile was but the cloak to a most sinister expression.

'Velly likely he no wantee helpee,' he lisped, as he dropped to the deck of the other vessel. 'But velly likely also he velly glad. Jong stay here unless he happen to see de Excellency; den p'laps he go towards him.'

The words had hardly left his lips, and his padded soles scarcely gained the deck when a figure was seen coming swiftly towards him. It was David. No, it was a Chinaman, a burly, thick-shouldered individual; then close on his heels another figure followed.

'David,' whispered Dick, scarcely able to breathe. 'George! that other chap is coming aboard.'

Certainly that was the man's intention. He was returning to his own ship to fetch a mighty muzzle-loader which he had previously forgotten. He reached the rail, placed a hand upon it, and was about to spring on to the plank bridge when Jong was upon him. And if any one had ever doubted the grinning Chinaman's courage before, his doubts would have been for ever silenced if he could have witnessed what followed. For this was not one of those sudden conquests, when an unsuspecting man is struck down without time for self-protection. The stranger saw Jong as the latter moved towards him, and faced round with the swiftness of a panther. Then his head went back, and such a shout went up that none could have failed to hear it. A moment later the two were locked in one another's arms, rolling this way and that on the deck, tearing madly at one another. And over them David stepped, with an axe across his shoulders.