"Yes, it looks awkward. I must tell you this much. Seven men are at the upper end of the pool, dragging their boat out of the mud; no doubt they’ve done it by this time. Three more are posted on a dry patch below the lower end. I think they’ll not attempt to pursue us again; but the boat will probably run down to the gunboat, and they’ll be on the watch for us. If we start the engine the sound will give them notice: the best thing we can do is to tow the hydroplane into the pool, then set her running, get up enough speed to fly, and cut off to the river at an angle, so that we reach it some way lower down. Of course we shall be heard, and it would be a thousand times better if we could fly overland the whole way; but we are at least sixty miles from Sui-Fu, and we simply daren’t use up our petrol." "I can’t think of any other plan," said Burroughs. "As it is, we shall have to trust entirely to the current for the last thirty miles or so, and everything depends on how far they venture to pursue us. It’s time some government boats came up stream; but it looks as if they are relying entirely on the regiments from Tibet to put down the rising. We must simply take our chance." The hydroplane was launched, and the tow-rope fastened to the boat, which Lo San and Chin Tai were to paddle to the pool. Chung Pi, much depressed for want of his customary nourishment, inquired anxiously what it was proposed to do, and looked troubled on hearing that it was necessary again to approach the river. "I am a land fighter," he said mournfully; "in these movements on the water and in the air I am not myself. I should feel happier if I could find some melon garden, and fortify myself against the perils we shall meet." "Well, we’ll drop you into the first melon garden we see, if you like," said Burroughs bluntly. "No, no, illustrious Englishman; I did but utter a pious wish. I must still hang on to the tail of my horse, though he no longer seems as beautiful as he did." They set off along the waterway, Errington instructing Lo San to stop at the opening into the pool, and report, before paddling farther, whether he saw any sign of the enemy. On reaching this point, they found neither boat nor men; it was clear that Errington had guessed rightly. As soon as the hydroplane was well out on the pool, the tow-rope was cast off, the planes were outspread, and Errington started the engine, setting the vessel straight towards the channel leading to the river. When it had gathered speed, a touch on the elevator sent it aloft, and Errington steered to the right, intending to strike the river about half-a-mile lower down than the mouth of the channel. He kept fairly low, so that the flying boat should be concealed from the gunboat by the intervening trees.