Just as the party was about to move off, one of the escort approached Mr. Helping-to-decide, and, first humbly kow-towing, said something in a tone of supplication. The functionary explained. The men would like the horse; would he allow them to cut up the animal? Bob declared that he had no objection whatever; whereupon Mr. Helping-to-decide told the men that they might have the horse if they first skinned the tiger. A dozen men at once set to work, and in half an hour the double operation was performed; the dismembered horse was distributed among the escort, the tiger's skin was entrusted to the head coolie, and after this long delay the party resumed their northward journey.
As they left the group of huts, no one noticed two Chinamen crouching in a ruined cabin, within a few feet of Bob and Mr. Helping-to-decide. They had seen and heard all that passed since the arrival of the Koreans. When the party had finally departed, the Chinamen left their place of concealment, struck through the trees in a north-westerly direction, and presently reappearing on their little ponies, made off towards the Ping-yang road.
Mr. Helping-to-decide rode by the side of the palanquin, the top of which was lifted up, and showed himself anxious to keep up his guest's spirits by a never-ceasing flow of conversation, to which Bob listened with a fearful joy. He explained that the Koreans were deeply interested in the result of the war, for it appeared inevitable that the country must come under the dominating influence either of Russia or of Japan. They would rather have neither, but if it must be one or the other, they preferred Japan to Russia. But there was one particular grudge they had against Japan. It was due to Japanese influence that the Emperor of Korea, some years before, had decreed the abolition of the topknot and plunged the whole nation into despair.
"Dear me!" said Bob. "I should have thought it the other way about. The cultivation of the topknot must give you a good deal of trouble."
"Ah! You are a barbarian—excuse me, a foreigner; you do not understand. How should you? In your country what do they do to a man when he is grown up and becomes married?"
"I don't know that they do anything—except send in tax-papers, and that sort of thing."
"Well, in my country we wear cranial ornament—topknot to wit. In Korea the topknot is a sine qua non; without it a Korean has no locus standi: he is a vulgar fraction—of no importance. Let me inform you, hon'ble sir, a gray-beard, though of respectable antiquity, if minus a topknot, is to all intents and purposes a baby-in-arms. That is our Korean custom. Now, hon'ble sir, can you imagine our unutterable consternation, perturbation of spirit, nervous prostration, when an Imperial decree issues—every conjugal Korean's topknot shall be abbreviated, cut off instanter! There is dire tribulation, sore perplexity. All Korea plumps into the depths of despair. Besides, it is the height of absurdity. How, hon'ble sir, shall distinction henceforth be drawn between celibate irresponsible and self-respecting citizen with hostages to fortune? That is what we ask ourselves, and echo answers, how? I pause for a reply."
Bob, chuckling inwardly at Mr. Helping-to-decide's wonderful command of the English tongue, looked sympathetic, and said:
"It was very awkward certainly. But what happened?"
"At promulgation of decree I was residing at my eligible country house. By gum, I think, such humiliating necessity cannot embrace the Cham-Wi—hon'ble helping-to-discuss in his Majesty's War Office. Perish the thought! But, hon'ble sir, stern duty calls me to metropolitan city. I arrive at the outer gate. Lo! I am arrested, I the Cham-Wi, by guardian of the peace—copper, who stands outside with huge shears ferociously brandished. I make myself scarce—bunk. Alas! vain hope: a brawny arm seizes me from behind; one, two, the deed is done; my topknot—where is it? It is beyond recall. I am dishonoured. Behold me on my beam ends!"