"Are they hunghutzes?" Gorloff asked the Chinese, when we had reassembled at the entrance.
"No, Captain," answered the Chinese with conviction. "Whatever hunghutzes appear in our neighbourhood come in from a long distance, roam about and depart. None of them would be bold enough to try to live in this cavern, which is inhabited by bad spirits and the ta lung (great dragon). These must be mao-tze … foreigners," he corrected himself, using the polite word instead of this other uncomplimentary term so common in northern Manchuria, at the same time watching us with fear to see whether we had taken offence at his slip.
"We shall wait for the arrival of Rusoff and the men," I interpolated to the miner. "We must unravel this riddle and smoke these badgers out."
While we were awaiting our reinforcements, we posted ourselves near the mouth of the shaft, at the same time keeping close guard over it to prevent the bad spirits and the dragon from leaving their nests. After a little, more volleys were fired from the depths of the shaft, the bullets coming whistling out of the mouth and warning us that our captives wanted to emerge. When we answered with a few shots, again things quieted down without any one appearing where we could see them in the sloping gallery.
To while away the time as we waited, Gorloff took it upon himself to explain to the Chinese at some length that our trapped game could not be bad spirits and dragons.
"Listen, you son of Han," he started, waving his immense red hand before the nose of the Chinese, "these are no bad spirits or other fabulous creatures of yours; for, if spirits had possessed carbines, we should already three thousand years ago have had no Chinese on this
