As it was, their few shots made the Chinese scatter still more rapidly, and they vanished to cover without firing a shot. Then came the most trying time of all, and it tested the young marines’ endurance to the utmost. The two guns were firing rapidly, shells were screaming past, shells were bursting on the slope in front of them and on the plateau behind them. Every now and again a little white ball of smoke burst with a dull "puff" overhead, and a hailstorm of shrapnel bullets came splashing down. They knew, too, that the Chinamen were creeping up unseen through the bushes, and they could do nothing but wait. The intense tension of suspense was still further increased by the sentry on the crest path running back from that gap in the bushes with a scared face. Another party was advancing along the path they had followed in the morning, and almost before he had reported this, shots from Bush Hill came whipping past, and then from the slopes below a furious fire burst out, the bullets fortunately flying wildly. Cummins sang out for the signalman. "Go back and signal to Mr. Parker, ’Am attacked in front and left flank. I expect you to keep my rear open’," and turning to Saunderson, who was standing near him, "Eh! Saunderson, you make me nervous standing up; I wish you’d lie down." "I will when you do, sir." "But I can’t, you know," Cummins said, with a silly chuckle. "For goodness’ sake keep moving, then, sir," the giant answered nervously, as several bullets flew past, and one struck the sand-bag on which Cummins was sitting. Cummins dug it out with his finger. It was a small-bore Mauser bullet. "Hullo! that’s capital!" he cried, jumping to his feet, as a faint report came from the extreme left, and a shell burst among the trees from which the two guns had been firing. "Bannerman’s got round at last." The men saw it too, and gave a joyful cheer of relief. "Now, lads," he sang out cheerily, "you won’t be bothered with those shells, and these Chinese can’t hit a haystack. Save your cartridges, and never fire till you are sure of hitting. The _Strong Arm’s_ will be here with their Maxims in another hour, so don’t waste a shot." With the dreaded shells silent, the men settled down more confidently and fired very seldom, and once or twice a yell of pain below told them that a cartridge had not been wasted. The bullets were going past in great numbers—ping-ping! flick-flick! Occasionally one struck the ground with a puff of dust, or struck a stone or an axe and went whistling away, twisted out of shape. Every now and again one buried itself in a sand-bag with a thud, but most of them were high overhead. Evidently the Chinese were too undisciplined to take aim. Still, it was a sufficiently awkward position, with three or four hundred men attacking from below, and probably as many on the left, concealed among those bushes opposite the Log Redoubt.