It was a fine, bright, breezy April day. As the cart jumped and jolted over the lumpy, unpaved road, Nelly could not see outside at all, for the carter had pulled down the curtain, with its square piece of gauze for a window, and besides, there were such clouds of dust that when she tried to look through the gauze she could not tell where they were. Little Yi fixed her eye to a tiny hole she had found in the blue cotton. She noticed that they passed the American Legation, but after that the road was quite strange to her, as she had never been far from home. The carters were yelling to their mules and the street hawkers were crying their wares, but above their noise the children could hear the humming of birds' whistles overhead. The Chinese tie whistles under pigeons' wings, and when the birds fly they make a strange kind of humming or whistling noise. Nelly thought they must be the pigeons that often flew over the Legation compound, and belonged to a mandarin who lived not far away. The birds seemed to Nelly to hover about the carts for some time; but at last they evidently remembered that it was the hour for them to feed, and they turned round and flew home. About noon the travellers reached the great, high wall that stands all round the city, and passed through the gate. When they were well on the road outside Peking, Hung Li stopped the carts and said every one was to get out for a time. But Nelly and Little Yi were only allowed to stretch their limbs for about five minutes, after which they were made to get into the cart again, and the curtain was pulled down as before. They were given a little food, and were quite glad to be alone, as they had not been able to speak to each other, without being overheard, since the day before. 'Do you think your father will give money to have you back?' asked Little Yi. 'Yes, of course. Won't yours? They won't ask him so much as mine,' answered Nelly. 'Well, you see, I am only a girl,' said Little Yi. 'I know my father likes me as much as my brothers, but he would be ashamed to make a fuss over a girl.' 'Oh, what will my mother do?' cried Nelly. 'I am afraid she will think I am dead. I would not mind so much if only I could write to her. Won't your mother be miserable too?' 'No,' replied Little Yi. 'She has her sons, and she will know that I am with you, but I am afraid she will scold me for going outside the gate.' 'I should not like to have a Chinese mother,' said Nelly. 'They don't love their little girls as English ladies do.'