Then did the peerless Chaoukeun narrate, in few words, the treachery and avarice of Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow.
“Hasten, O mandarins, let the scissors of disgrace cut off the two tails of this wretch, and then let the sword of justice sever off his head.”
But the rumour of his sentence flew on the wind to Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow; and before the executioner could arrive, he had mounted a horse fleeter than the wind, and with the portrait of the peerless Chaoukeun in his vest, had left even rumour far behind.
Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.
And to whom did the miscreant minister fly, to hide his devoted head? He flew to the wild nations of the north, the riders of wild horses, with sharp scimitars and long lances. For three days and three nights did the hoofs of his fiery steed strike fire upon the flints, which he spurned in his impetuous course, and then, as an immortal poet hath already sung, “he bowed his head and died,” With the portrait of the peerless Chaoukeun in his bosom, and his mandarin garments raised up under each arm, the miscreant Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow reached the presence of the Great Khan. “O khan of Tartary,” said he, “may thy sword be ever keen, thy lance unerring, and thy courser swift. I am thy slave. O thou who commandest an hundred thousand warriors—hath thy slave permission to address thee?”
“Speak, and be damned,” replied the warrior chief, of few words, whose teeth were busy with some pounds of horse-flesh.
“Thou knowest, O khan, that it hath been the custom for ages, that the celestial empire should provide for thee a fair damsel for thy nuptial bed, and that this hath been the price paid by the celestial court, to prevent the ravages of thy insatiate warriors. O khan, there is a maid, whose lovely features I now have with me, most worthy to be raised up to thy nuptial couch.” And the miscreant laid at the feet of the great khan the portrait of the peerless Chaoukeun.
The chief finished his repast, and then with his lance, turned over the image of the pearl beyond all price. He looked at it, then passed it to those around him. The savage warriors stared at the lovely portrait, and admired it not—yet did they long for war. “Tell me, O chiefs,” said the great khan, “is that baby-face you look at worth contending for?”
And, with one voice, the chiefs replied, that she was worthy to share the nuptial couch of the great khan.
“Be it so,” replied he, “I am no judge of beauty. Let the encampment be broken up—this evening we move southwards.” And the Tartar chief entered the northern provinces of the celestial empire, with his hundred thousand warriors, destroying all with fire and sword, proving his sincere wish to unite himself to the Chinese nation by the indiscriminate slaughter of man, woman, and child; and his ardent love for the peerless Chaoukeun, by making a nuptial torch of every town and village.