At the end of November we were roused one night by urgent messages from the British police in the Hinterland to the effect that parties of rebels were hovering on the frontier and it was feared that they intended to raid across into our territory. In response to their request, a strong party was sent out at once to reinforce them. About four a.m. a European police sergeant arrived in breathless haste with the information that the rebels had crossed the boundary and seized two villages lying inside our border. They had fired on the police patrols. Two companies of the 22nd Bombay Infantry, under Captain Hatherell and Lieutenant Burke, fell in promptly and marched off under the guidance of two Sikh policemen sent for the purpose. Preceded by scouts and a strong advanced guard, under a Pathan native officer, Subhedar Khitab Gul, they bore down at daybreak on the villages reported captured. But the rebels had apparently received information of their coming and had fled back across the border. The troops, bitterly disappointed at being deprived of a fight, returned about nine a.m. to camp, where the remainder of the force had been ready to support them if necessary. No further attempts were ever made against our territory, and shortly afterwards the Frontier Field Force returned to headquarters. CHAPTER X IN THE PORTUGUESE COLONY OF MACAO Forty miles from Hong Kong, hidden away among the countless islands that fringe the entrance to the estuary of the Chukiang or Pearl River, lies the Portuguese settlement of Macao. Once flourishing and prosperous, the centre of European trade with Southern China, it is now decaying and almost unknown—killed by the competition of its young and successful rival. Long before Elizabeth ascended the throne of England the venturesome Portuguese sailors and merchants had reached the Far East. There they carried their country’s flag over seas where now it never flies. An occasional gunboat represents in Chinese waters their once powerful and far‐roaming navy.