In the village above the river there was not a soul—every living thing had fled. But the long deserted street seemed garlanded with coming events. The air was pulsating with sound. He could hear the rattle of musketry, very fast and hard. He clambered up a high bank and found that he overlooked a gaunt plain. It was alive with tiny little figures running in many directions. For long he waited to know who they were, but presently there was a big jet of smoke and flame and the sound of an angry explosion which floated across to him slowly and reluctantly. The foreign army was throwing shell on to the plain: the running men were his fellow-countrymen fleeing from the menace of their wrath.
But where was the foreign army—where?
He began running along towards the edge of the plain. Very soon he tumbled over two men in red and blue tunics, with dishevelled queues, who were splotched with blood, lying on the ground as if they were held down by an iron hand. As he ran he could hear their voices wailing "Chiu-ming, chiu-ming (save our lives)"; but he never paused.
Now he was well on to the plain. All the running men had disappeared. A few motionless dots showed where some others had fallen but apart from that all was bare. The hidden army must have eyes that could see; for the guns had ceased magically and the musketry rattle too. A great emptiness filled heaven and earth and his fear grew so that once again his knees shook.
He fell on his knees.
On his knees he waited and then he saw. Men on horses had suddenly appeared riding fast with long lances in their hands, streaming on to the plain in irregular streams. From a very great distance he saw that their faces were black, for their brown turbans showed that and also their hands and arms. The foreign army had devils in league with them—all the tales of his childhood came back to him.
And yet he did not move—he made no movement save to kowtow for mercy with his head. But when the black horsemen caught sight of him, they lowered their lances and rode at him playfully, accepting his surrender by reining in and doing him no hurt. Then it was that he was inspired and began repeating incessantly, with great explanatory waves of the hands back to where he had come from, "he will go," pronouncing the remembered words in the native way, Hei wei ko, which made them a strangely changed English.
The troopers, vastly puzzled, clustered round him, talking fast to one another in an unknown language. They suspected something of the truth but were not sure. India looked at China with inquiring eyes.
He stood up.
"Hei wei ko" he repeated more and more insistently, waving back with his hand to where he had come from and pointing at them insistently to show that he sought their aid. Then, with a swift movement, he took a thorn he had threaded unto his tunic out and sat again on the ground and picked at his ear, very carefully, slowly forcing out the tiny ball of tissue-paper.