My attention was soon drawn to the four natives beside me, for I perceived that they were fast asleep. The natives possess a faculty of dropping into a sound slumber without respect to time or position; and these, though seated, their bodies bolt upright and their legs crossed before them, were snoring. The Tonquinese, like the Arabs, have a proverb which says: "A man is better sitting than standing, better asleep than sitting, and better dead than asleep." However, this was no time to ponder on the ethics of Oriental philosophy, so I applied myself to awakening these weary ones, and, after a good deal of vigorous shaking, succeeded in doing so. The corporal, who from his hiding-place had taken in the situation, adjured me, in low but energetic tones, to make use of the butt of my rifle to infuse enthusiasm into the unfortunate _tirailleurs_. Then all was quiet again, and our weary watching was resumed. The time seemed to drag along with painful slowness, and the glare and heat increased in intensity. Hardly a sound disturbed the drowsy tranquillity, and had it not been for the chirping song of the cicalas and the far-away whistle of a kite, which soared above us and whose shadow flitted occasionally across the open ground in front, one could have imagined that there was nothing living for miles around. The sun began to move westwards, and its rays struck the white wall behind me, only to be reflected with such force that I was obliged to put on my helmet to protect the back of my head. It was nearly two in the afternoon when we were startled by a short exclamation from the sentry perched above us. "What is it?" somebody enquired. "There is something moving," he replied, "a long way off--two kilomètres, perhaps--two men--Ah! there are some who carry baskets. _Nhaques_ (peasants) going to market, I suppose." Then with growing excitement in his tone he continued: "I see a glitter. Got for deck!" (he was a Belgian). "The two men in front carry rifles--they are the _point_! Yes! Yes! the point! Further back there are more coolies with baskets, and more men with rifles--now two men on ponies." "Where are they?" I tried to speak quietly, but could have shouted with excitement. "On the path which runs behind the hillocks--the path which turns in _here_. They come from the south, and walk very quickly. Wheew!" he whistled, "there are quite sixty coolies, and as many men with guns. They have a rear-guard. The first will be on the path before us in ten minutes. _Prévenez vite le caporal--Nous allons rire!_" I ran across the road behind us, through the gateway into the pagoda yard, and informed our "non-com." Though he was only half awake when I began--for the heat had been too much for _him_--he was quite alive to the situation before I had said many words, and almost shook hands with me in his joy at the news.