"Nonsense, Ethel," interrupted Mrs. Pottle; "don't be sentimental. I don't wish them any harm, but—"
She did not finish the sentence, for at this moment the horsemen arrived at the mouth of the gully, and halted, evidently in some hesitation, as though fearing a trap. Their leaders spoke together for a few moments; then the whole band dismounted, and, leaving their horses in charge of some of their number, began to climb up the gorge. Bob felt that it was high time to check them.
"Call, Ah-Sam," he said, "and tell them that if they move another step forward I fire."
"Hai yah!" shouted the Chinaman. The little man had a shrill piercing voice, and his exclamation brought the bandits to a sudden halt two hundred yards beneath. He then gave them in Chinese Bob's message, and as he spoke, they strained their eyes upward as if to pierce the barricade. There was a short consultation among them, and then one of them advanced a step and shouted a reply.
"What does he say?" asked Bob.
"One piecee Chunchu say-lo, 'Come this-side, ha-loy! he no killum China-boy, two piecee girley; massa fightee man, he catchee ling-ch'ih'."
"What's that?" asked Bob.
Ah-Sam looked puzzled; his vocabulary was evidently for the moment at a loss. Then he said:
"Ling-ch'ih he killum velly velly slow; he cuttee slicee allo littee piecee: velly long-tim' die-lo galaw!—velly annoying!"
Mrs. Pottle gathered the gist of what Ah-Sam said, and burst forth in great indignation.