Errington steered round the bend. It was a short one; in five minutes the river again stretched straight in front. He was familiar enough with the neighbourhood to know that Sui-Fu was still nearly thirty miles distant. There was now no engine power to rely on; they could but drift. Once more the idea of running into a creek occurred to them, only to be abandoned, for the sampans in this part of the river were more numerous, and some one would certainly think it worth while to betray their presence. They were at their wits’ end. During their flight they had gained several miles on the gunboat, but the very fact that they had descended would inform the rebels that they could fly no longer. The pursuit would be kept up; they must be overtaken within twenty minutes at the most, unless some unforeseen incident intervened. The boat drifted on, and came to another bend; the gunboat had not yet hove in sight, but they could distinctly hear the throbbing of its engines. Again the river straightened, and though there were slight curves which would hide them from the pursuers for some few moments at a time, the general course was so direct that for at least five minutes they would afford a target for the guns. Looking anxiously back, Burroughs saw the gunboat come into the straight, perhaps a mile behind. Errington steered near the left bank, in order to gain what cover the occasional slight windings would afford. A minute afterwards they heard a report, but they did not see the shot, nor discover where it fell. Half-a-minute later a shot plunged into the water a yard or two behind; the gunners had the range. A tree-clad bluff hid them for another minute; as soon as the boat again came into the open, a third shot fell some distance ahead, and the gunboat was rapidly overhauling them. Disregarding the risk of striking a submerged rock, Errington hugged the bank, losing time by following the curves, but gaining what was much more precious in this crisis, fitful protection from the guns.