Hai Low remembered his brother’s command. He made a V of the bow string. His hurried arrow went seeking a mark. The traveler gave up all thought of recovering his hat. Down the road he dashed madly, shouting that he had been killed. However, he was a traveler, and travelers are noted for stories hard to believe. Hai Low sat on the steps and had practice with his bow. No man should take the milking cow, without taking an arrow also. A thief had best wear clothes of iron.
When Big Brother Hai Lee came home, his voice was doleful. “Oh, Brother, my Brother, you have put us into vast trouble. Why on earth did you shoot an arrow into the traveler’s quilted coat? He is a foreign ambassador and says that his country will instantly declare war upon us. Think of the sadness your act will cause. I beg of you be not so rash in future. The next time you see a stranger lose his hat, don’t shoot. Instead, be polite, and chase the hat.”
Next day, as Hai Low kept house, he noticed a great company of men approaching. Gong beaters led. Behind them came carriers of banners; tablet men; keepers of the large umbrellas; warriors; more gong musicians; fan carriers; incense swingers—a long procession it was. Hai Low knew that it must be the marching train of a truly great man. He hoped that he might behold the high and mighty one. And so he did. As the gilded sedan chair was borne past, a breeze threshed its curtains. A hat soared out of the sedan. Carried by the wind demons, it rolled across turnip patch and radish. Hai Low dashed away in chase. He thought himself being polite and useful—to rescue the great one’s hat.
Alas, a hundred bludgeon men and spear wavers rushed after him. They shouted that he must stop and be killed for his sin. Hai Low had no idea why they wished to slay him. Neither had he the faintest idea of stopping. He lifted his heels with such rapidity that he gained a thicket three leaps ahead of the foremost warrior men. In the heavy growth of briers and bushes he was safe, for he knew the tangle in all its winding ways. To follow was folly.
When late, the boy reached home, he found his brother waiting. Hai Lee’s despair was shown in tears and quavering words. “Oh, Brother of mine, I fear that your life is worth less than a withered carrot. Why did you lay hands upon His Majesty’s right royal hat? Do you not know that death is the penalty for so doing? Soldiers have sought you high and low. If they find you—I cannot bear to say what will happen. Now please have regard for my words, Little Brother. Go into the house, and crawl under a bed—and stay there. Stay there.”
Next day, as Hai Low kept house, he kept it beneath a bed. So still he lay that a mouse took a nap at his side. Soldiers came and emptied the pantry, eating and drinking as only King’s men can. None of them thought to glance under the bed. And that was just as well—just as well for Hai Low. It was for him that they had come to search.
Soon after the soldiers had departed, an odor of burning filled the air. The house was afire. Hai Low coughed, but he dared not crawl from his shielding bed. He had no doubt the fire had been set in an effort to rout him from hiding.
The door flew open and in rushed big brother Hai Lee. Hai Lee flung water upon the flames, then pulled little brother from beneath the bed. He was greatly exasperated. “My word and all, not very large Brother, would you let the house burn and not fling a bucket? The soldiers were gone. Why didn’t you arise and douse the flames? Now hear what I speak, Little Brother. The next time you see flames—pour on water. Pour on water.”
Next day, as Hai Low kept house, he chanced to gaze down the road. A brisk fire burned in the open. With two filled buckets the boy hastened to obey his brother’s order. In no time he wetted the fire out of burning.