He soon found that between him and the wall lay a stretch of almost bare ground, no doubt made by the traffic around the farm. How was he to cross this? He might be seen by both Cossacks and Chunchuses, and if seen he would be the target for perhaps scores of rifles.
All was still within the farm; from the distance came faint sounds—voices from the Russian camp; behind he heard the tramp of sentries. Flat on the ground, already cold with the autumn night frost, he eagerly scanned the prospect for some cover by favour of which he could creep across to the wall. His heart gave a jump as he noticed, a few feet to his right, what appeared to be a ditch running from the wall across the bare patch and into the fields. Crawling noiselessly to it, he found that it was a shallow cutting, intended, as he judged by the smell, to carry off the drainage from the courtyard. There was no help for it; he sidled into the channel, luckily dry, and wormed his way along it until he came to within a few feet of the wall. As he expected, the drain passed through a hole in the wall, sufficiently deep for a man to crawl through.
But the wall gave him pause. He dared not creep through; he would be taken for an enemy and shot. He must seek a means of communicating with the garrison without drawing their fire. He crawled to the hole, hesitated for a moment, then, making a bell of his hands, sent through the shallow tunnel a low hiss, loud enough to awaken attention; soft enough, he hoped, not to create alarm. Breathlessly he waited; there was no response. Again he hissed; this time somewhat louder. There was a quick footstep within; then silence. A third time; he heard a foot strike against the wall, and next moment became conscious that someone was looking down at him over the wall. He lifted his head.
"I am a friend," he said in deliberate clear-cut Chinese. "I have news for your captain."
The man uttered an exclamation under his breath; then bade him remain perfectly still or he would shoot him. In a low tone he summoned a comrade and sent him for the commander. Jack heard a little bustle within, not loud enough to catch the attention of the sentries. A few minutes later a second voice spoke from the top of the wall.
"Come through."
Jack wriggled through the narrow opening. Only his head projected within the wall when he was told to stop.
"Who are you?"
"Mr. Wang, is that you?"
"Ch'hoy! It is Mr. Chack Blown. Rise, sir!"