The fortunate fellow settled down in a comfortable mansion and converted his goods into gold as rapidly as possible. To put the merchants in better humor and make them more disposed to buy his silks and jewels, Meng Hu often howled and mooed and cackled. He gave the buyers much entertainment. His strange antics became the talk of Chang An City.
The upshot was that Lui Tsung, Mightiest King, heard of the youth who made such marvelous noises. His Majesty sent a courier bidding Meng Hu appear in the square that fronted the palace, there to entertain. Meng promptly appeared, bringing with him a tiger robe, a calf skin, a wolf hide, and other disguises. He intended that the performance should seem very real. And so it was, at first. As a wolf, he frightened three soldiers into running. His bawling was so true to life that an old peasant rushed to the square, declaring that he recognized the voice of his lost calf, and would someone lend him a rope. Oddly enough, the tiger mimicry created no astonishment. It caused neither laughs nor screams. Meng Hu was surprised. Had he not thrown fear into the robbers’ very marrow with his tiger noise? Roaring furiously, he rushed at a soldier. The soldier merely yawned. Roaring ten times more furiously, the “tiger” sprang at Lui Tsung, The Mighty King. . . .
Now, of course, Meng Hu was merely a peasant boy. He knew nothing of royalty and its ways. But, is ignorance ever an excuse? Never. Meng Hu should have known better than to spring at his Monarch, and to tooth the royal robes. His Majesty gasped and beckoned to a captain of the guard. “Seize this audacious person and imprison him. Hold him until I can think of an utterly new punishment to fit his crime. He merits something more severe than mere sword or fire.”
With such delightful prospects to ponder, Meng Hu languished behind lock and key. Over and over he moaned: “How wise were the old men. They said that I would meet my death because of an animal. A tiger. A tiger. Ai ja (Alas).” Though extremely downcast, yet he kept a faint hope. His mind fabricated numerous schemes for escape. He had noticed that the Queen seemed extremely fond of a ridiculous little yipping Chou. (The scamp; with his noise he had frightened the poor dog in a manner most scandalous.) While thinking of the Chou, he hit upon an idea that promised much.
Directly after the new guards had been posted, Meng Hu began to yelp dismally. His yelping was enough to bring tears of pity to the soldiers’ eyes. It was distressing. Presently a voice said: “O soldiers, my dear little dog is locked up, and I don’t know where. Hasten and open all the doors.” That voice was the Queen’s voice. Every soldier of the guard recognized it. Every soldier hastened along the corridor—slip slap, slip slap—opening doors. One and all they hastened to free the Queen’s dear little pet Chou.
The Queen’s voice commanded that the doors be opened. Yet, at that very moment the Queen was in a sedan chair, several miles away, taking her evening ride. Perhaps Meng Hu could have explained the mystery—had he waited. But there was no waiting. The guards had not finished opening the farther doors when Meng crawled away. He didn’t even pause to thank the guards. Their kindness went unrewarded.
To the wall. To the gate. Toward the Great Wall galloped Meng Hu. The night cloaked his hurry. No one hindered. No one pursued. Over the mountain—a mile to go. There stood the Great Wall—there the gate. There lay safety.
Meng paused for a breath and turned in his saddle. Far behind appeared a streak of light. That would be a torch—and a King’s man bearing it. They were pursuing—upon the King’s swift horses. Then hasten. Speed. To the gate.
Away galloped Meng Hu. . . . The gate was before him. . . . Closed. . . . Closed. Ai ja. His escape was blocked by the ponderous gate. He would be captured. He would be killed, and alas for it. Ai yu. The gate was closed for the night. It would not be opened till morning came. No ten bags of gold could open it before the morning dawned. Not even a royal order could open it.
The warden of the gate slept peacefully.