Part 3

His admiration for his conqueror was so evident in his looks and words, that he not only disarmed her anger but won her heart. She decided to marry rather than to kill him. The wedding was hastily arranged, and the General with his bride set out at once for Peking, to take his report to the Emperor and to take command of a large force which was to move southward from the capital to recapture the city of Yang Chow, which was in the hands of southern rebels. According to the law of the land, any officer, under orders, who married during a campaign should be beheaded. When the Emperor heard the story of General Kao he ordered that he be degraded and at once executed, but later, as he heard more and more of the valour of the wife he had taken, he said, “If she will take the city of Yang Chow, her husband’s life shall be her reward.” She was given command of the army in place of Kao Chun Pao, who was allowed to accompany her as assistant.

She led the army to the south and attacked the city day after day with resistless energy and resourcefulness. After a long siege the stronghold fell into her hands. The Governor was taken prisoner and sent as voucher for the completeness of her conquest to the Emperor. On his arrival the papers granting pardon to her husband were sent to Chin Ting, and she was made Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial forces. For thirty years she led them in many victorious battles and recovered much territory which had been lost by the northern kingdom in previous years. A picture showing her attack on the gates of Yang Chow is a great favourite with the Chinese, and always on sale at the New Year when Chinese homes are freshly decorated.

A DAUGHTER OF THE ORIENT

Two thousand years ago, in the time of the Han dynasty, there lived in China a man by the name of Chun Yü I. He was a small official and, because of some offence by which he had angered his superior, he was sentenced to have his feet cut off.

Great was the sorrow in the home when the decision was made known. No fires were lighted in the kitchen, for no one could think of eating. With deep sighs and bitter tears Mr. Chun bewailed his fate. “Alas! alas!” said he; “how bitter is my lot! Had I a son he would suffer for me. To me have come five daughters. Ah! had the gods only been good and given me one son! What can girls do? Indeed I am accursed.”

Hour by hour he thus lamented. His wife and children mourned and fasted, but “Alas! what can we do?” was their hopeless cry.

The fateful day came when the father must go to the capital, there to receive his punishment.

In the early morning his little daughter “Glory,” only ten years old, came and knelt down before him, and with many tears besought him to allow her to accompany him. He refused, but she persisted with prostrations and knockings of her head on the brick floor.

“If you do not let me go I can but die. How can I live through these days and not know how you are? I must go. Indeed I either go or die.” All of these words were accompanied with so many knocks of the little head on the bricks at his feet that the father gave way and told her mother and the servants to get her and her nurse ready for the journey.

On the road she told the servants that, as early as possible, after reaching the city they must find a way for her to see the Emperor, for she was going to plead for her father.

Now, in those days the Emperor of China was not shut away from his people as he was later, and little Glory was taken by her father’s steward to the palace gate. Here she knocked her head to the soldiers on guard and asked to be allowed to see the Emperor.

The hearts of the rough men were touched by her distress and sweet, pleading little face and the request was sent in to the palace. Word came back that little Glory was to enter. With trembling hands and quivering lips, but shining eyes, she knelt before her Emperor. Many times did she make her prostrations, and at his command she told her story with much weeping.

She told him how good and kind her father was; that every one loved him; he had never made a mistake before, and indeed the thing for which he was to be punished had been much exaggerated. She finished with, “O Great Emperor, I entreat you to allow me to become one of your slaves and thus redeem my father’s mistake, and secure his pardon. I shall have long years to serve you, and my father is old. Alas! alas! the gods have given him no son to plead for him, and I am but a little girl! I entreat, I beg, oh, hear me, Great and Glorious Emperor, spare my father and let me be your slave forever.”

The Emperor’s heart was melted within him as he looked upon her distress and heard her voice so full of anguish; and, telling her to rise and stand near him, he said, “You are indeed a filial daughter. A country with such an one is blest like the possessor of a precious jewel. I pardon your father and restore his official position; and you may go home with him.”

The Emperor then called his ministers and commanded them to have it published abroad that from that day the punishment of cutting off the hands and feet of criminals was to be done away with forever. “This,” said he, “is an expression of my pleasure that such a daughter of the gods lives within the ‘four seas.’”

When little Glory was taken to the prison where her father was confined, she knelt before him and told him of her visit to the palace and the Emperor’s promise. Great was his surprise that his little daughter had saved him, and it was with difficulty they convinced him of the truth of her story.

When he could no longer doubt he said, “My life is sweet because the gods have given me such a daughter. What need have I of sons?”

THE WILD GOOSE AND THE SPARROW

The great Chinese sage, Confucius, had a son-in-law, Kung Yeh Chang, who understood better than any one before or since his day the habits of birds. So much time and study did he give to them that tradition says he understood all bird language and many stories are told of him in this connection. He built a beautiful pavilion in his garden, which was rich in flowers, trees, shrubs, and ponds, so that the birds loved to gather there; thus he was able to spend many delightful hours in their company listening to their wise and unwise talk.

Many of these conversations have been handed down the past two thousand years in the wonderful folklore of China, and from these one can see the influence they have had on the customs and traditions of the people.

Among the Chinese the wild goose has the reputation for having more virtues and wisdom than any other bird. This is brought out in the following story. One day, while Kung Yeh Chang was resting in his pavilion, a small house-sparrow lit in a tree near-by and commenced singing and chattering. A little later a wild goose dropped down by the pond for a drink. Hardly had he taken a sip when the little sparrow called out, “Who are you? Where are you going?” To this the goose did not reply and the sparrow became angry and asked again, “Who are you, that you should be so proud and lofty you cannot pay attention to my questions? Why do you consider me beneath your notice?” and still the goose did not answer. Then, indeed, was the little sparrow furious. In a loud, shrill voice, he said, “Every one listens to me! Again I ask, who are you with your lofty airs? Tell me or I will fly at you,” and he put his head up, and spread his wings, and tried to look very large and fierce.

By this time the goose had finished drinking, and looking up he said, “Don’t you know that in a big tree with many branches and large leaves the cicadas love to gather and make a noise? I could not hear you distinctly. You also know the saying of the Ancients, ‘If you stand on a mountain and talk to the people in the valley they cannot hear you,’” and the wild goose took another drink.

How the little sparrow chattered and sputtered, shook his wings, and at last said, “In what way are you, with your long neck and short tail, better than I? In what is your value greater. Tell me, and if you can prove it you shall be my teacher. What, for instance, do you know of the great world? Now, I can go into people’s houses, hide in the rafters under their windows, see their books and pictures, what they have to eat and what they do. I can hear all the family secrets, know all that goes on in the family and state. I know who are happy and who are sad. I know all the quarrels and all the gossip. All the other birds are glad to see me because I can tell them the latest news, and I know just how to tell it to produce the best effect. So you see that I know much that you, with your great stupid body, can never hope to know.”

“We consider,” said the wild goose, “that the highest law of virtue and good is to give others an equal chance with ourselves, or even to give them the first choice. Because of this we always fly either in the shape of the character ‘Man’ or the figure one. No one takes advantage of the other. We believe in the ‘Three Bonds,’ i.e., Prince and Minister, Husband and Wife, Father and Son. Also in the five virtues,—Benevolence, Righteousness, Propriety, Knowledge, and Truth. With us, if the male bird dies, the female flies alone; if the female dies the male flies alone; if both parents die their young fly alone for three years. We have our unchanging customs of going north in the spring and south in the winter. People come to depend on us, and make ready for either their spring work or the cold of winter. Thus, while we have not known the family or state skeletons and the gossip of the women and servants, we are a help to man.

“Now, you have no laws binding you. As a family, you sparrows are selfish; you gossip, chatter, steal, and drive away every one else, only thinking of your own good. Even among yourselves you quarrel. Because of these things you are treated with contempt and looked lightly upon by all. Indeed, so much so that you are a by-word. Now, we are respected and held up as models. Do you not hear parents and teachers tell their children and scholars to come and go quietly by themselves to and from school; to go straight ahead without looking to the right or left; not to gather in groups and chatter like house-sparrows? Do not the respectable people do the same on the street and in the house? Is there not a proverb that ‘There are many people without the wisdom and virtues of the wild goose’? You do, indeed, chatter about small affairs like foolish women and girls and thus are beneath my notice and I bid you good-day.”

All this time the poor little sparrow was trembling with rage, and so great was it that she could not fly away nor keep her hold on the branch of the tree, and so she fell to the ground, and thus she died.

Kung Yeh Chang exclaimed as he looked at her and then at the goose away in the distance, “Ai ya [sad, sad], most of mankind are like the sparrow, but the truly superior man will be like the wild goose and follow the rules of the Three Bonds and Five Virtues.”

A CHINESE HERO

Han Hsin

The youth of Western lands know very little of the great land of China, with its long history reaching far back into the dim past. How little is known of the fierce, stupendous struggles in the long ago, when China was not one country but was composed of many small kingdoms whose people were constantly fighting with each other for supremacy.

It was in those early days that were born China’s heroes who have been remembered ever since in song and story. To the Chinese but little stage setting is necessary for their national heroes. In their theatrical plays their imaginations fill in, with the help of mere suggestions, all that is needed to make their surroundings very real to them.

One of China’s greatest heroes was Han Hsin. He lived in the kingdom of Chin, very many centuries ago. When he was a small boy he showed remarkable wisdom, and, although he was very small of stature, his teachers predicted a great future for him.

One day, when Han was only six years old, he and another little boy were playing ball, when the ball came down into the deep hole of the millstones. They could not get it out at first and the other lad wanted to call for help. Little Han Hsin said, “No, I will think of a plan.” Finding a long stick, he began filling the hole with earth. As he poured the earth into the hole, he kept stirring the ball around, thereby keeping it on top of the earth until he could reach it with his hand.

Another time he saw a woman, in rage, jump into a large earthen water-barrel. He was not strong enough to draw her out, and no one was near, so he found a stone and beat with all his strength on the barrel until he made a hole in it near the bottom, and the water running out, the life of the woman was saved. Many such stories, and more wonderful ones, were told of him, and his fame spread all over the kingdom.

In those days every prince had a wise man, or a group of wise men, about him to give him advice regarding the affairs of his kingdom. Han Hsin was presented to his Prince by his teachers as worthy of holding such a position, but when the Prince and his officers saw how small he was, they laughed and said, “We do not want a child,” and would not accept his services.

Han Hsin then went and presented himself at the court of the Prince of Chin Chou. Now, this Prince, Chin Pa, was noted for his strength. It was said of him that, if he tried, he could breathe the roof off the house; also that he could lift himself up by the hair. When he was small he was fed on the milk of the tiger. Thus his strength was not the strength of man.

When Han Hsin was presented to this Prince by his teachers as a wise man and one who could help him make his country strong, he laughed and said, “What can such a boy do? If I hold out my head and tell him to cut it off he has not the strength to do it, even though I stand still and do not resist him. How can there be wisdom in such a small boy? How can such as he help me? He cannot fight for me or wait on me. Take away the child, I do not want him.”

The teachers urged the Prince to give the young man a trial and at last he said, “Here is my spear—let him hold it up straight for half a day. If he is strong enough for that, he may find something to do in my service.” Alas! Han Hsin could not even for half an hour hold up the great iron spear, and he was driven with laughter and derision from the court.

When the teachers remonstrated with the Prince he said, “I want no such weakling in my kingdom.”

“But you have made an enemy of him,” they urged, “and if you do not use him, you should kill him. Although you, our Prince, will not believe us, we know if you let him go he will, in the end, be used by some other kingdom to destroy yours.” At this Chin Pa laughed loud and long, but seeing the anxious and serious faces of the teachers he said, “I will take some soldiers and go after him, and if you wish I will kill him.”

Now when Han Hsin, in bitterness of heart, was driven from the court he took the road leading to the mountains, and was part way up when, chancing to look back, he saw the mounted band coming. They did not see him, but he knew that they were in search of him. He knew that he could not escape, so he stretched himself out on the side of the hill with his feet toward the top and his head toward the bottom of the hill, and pretended that he was asleep.

When Chin Pa came up and saw him there he smiled to himself and called to his men to remount, and away they went back to the castle, laughing and making merry over the thought that any one who would sleep in such a position, could rend the kingdom away from their great Prince.

When the teachers heard of the outcome of the pursuit of Han Hsin they were troubled and said, “It is craft and not stupidity—go back again, overtake him and kill him.” To please them and for the sport of it, the Prince started out again. By this time Han Hsin had crossed the mountains and was walking on the plain. Again he saw them coming, and looking about he discovered a very ill-smelling hole, and bending over it he exclaimed, as his pursuers came up, “Ah, how sweet, how fragrant!”

This time the Prince declared that Han Hsin was entirely foolish, and he would not kill a fool, for a man who did not know the difference between the sweetly fragrant and the offensive was not one a Prince need fear.

Thus Han Hsin was left to himself, and returned to his own country and village. His own Prince, Han Kao Lin, again refused him. At that time this Prince was at war with Chin Pa and was very hard pressed by the latter, and anxious to surround himself with wise men. He could not see, however, how there could be wisdom in such a small man as Han Hsin. But, at last, after much persuasion, he gave a reluctant permission for him to be made leader of the army which was about to set out to attack Chin Pa.

Old pictures show Han Hsin seated on a throne and worshipped by the military men and soldiers under him. They believed that he was to lead them to victory and save their country. It is said that he knew every soldier, and could tell at a glance how many there were in a company passing before him and who were absent from the ranks. He was one of the greatest military leaders, if not the greatest, in Chinese history.

One time, when engaged in war with the Kingdom of Chao, he drove the enemy to the bank of a river, but they got over in their own boats and destroyed them on the other side. Feeling secure in the thought that the army under Han Hsin could not cross that night, they made a camp and had a feast. But Han Hsin was not an ordinary man and he commanded every man to get a board of some kind and in the darkness to swim across quietly. This they did, and fell upon the merry camp and won a great victory.

Another time Han Hsin insisted on camping on the shore of the great river. His officers and men protested, and said that he was not leaving any path for retreat in case of defeat, as they had no ships or bridges and few could swim so far. All the comfort they could get was his reply, “When defeat comes we will discuss the question.” The enemy were seen coming upon them from the front, and then Han Hsin called to his men to fight for their lives, for death was certainly behind them in the river, but, if they fought bravely, they could defeat the enemy in front. This they did with great slaughter.

At another time, when fighting with the great Chin Pa, of the Kingdom of Chin, the latter shut up all but one of the roads over the mountains and awaited Han Hsin in ambuscade in a very narrow place, the only one where it seemed possible for him to get over the mountains. He did not even then know the military master that he had to deal with in Han Hsin, as it was still early in the war. Han Hsin sent out his spies, disguised as countrymen, and learned the condition of things. So, calling up his men to make a lot of bags, even turning their clothes into bags, his army set out.

On reaching the steepest place in ascending the mountains, he commanded the army to halt and fill the bags with earth. This place was not guarded, as it was supposed to be impossible of ascent. During the night, however, Han Hsin ordered an advance, and, using the bags to make a series of steps, his army went quickly up and over to the other side, to the rear of Chin Pa’s army. Here Han Hsin attacked the enemy in force and easily put them to flight. Later they recovered themselves and in many battles afterward between these two great generals neither could obtain any great advantage.

Now Han Hsin had a friend and helper in Chang Lang, a literary man who was wise and safe to trust, and who often helped him in his plans. They talked over the situation, and Chang Lang said that the strength of Chin Pa was in a company of three thousand soldiers who were all related to each other, and whose officers were also of the same clan. In some way that company must be disbanded or Han Hsin never would win the final victory. Many plans were formed, but the soldiers of the clan seemed to possess charmed lives.

At last Chang Lang came one night to the tent of Han Hsin and said, “I have found a way, and, as there is a fine wind and it is on the eve of a battle, I will try my new scheme.” He then produced a large kite, the first ever made, and disclosed his plan. All these years Han Hsin had remembered how Chin Pa had laughed at his small stature, but he was that night to show him that, though small, he was formidable as an enemy.

Some of his officers were called in and fastened him by ropes to the kite and then let go. Gradually the kite ascended, and, in the twilight, appeared high over the camp of the three thousand soldiers. They were filled with terror, for never before had such a thing been seen or heard of. It was dark enough to prevent them from seeing Han Hsin at the height and distance he was from them. The kite came to rest for a few moments, and they heard a voice say, “You all have old and young in your homes. Why do you not go home to them? If you stay on, you will some day all be killed; then who will worship at the grave of your fathers and hand down the name?”

The men said, “It is a voice of a god, a warning, let us depart at once,” and that night they left the camp.

The battle the next day was terrific, but in the end Han Hsin won a great victory. When urged to kill his old enemy he said, “No, let him go, for he will kill himself, and that will be better.” So, Chin Pa was set at liberty and started with his army to return south. The battle had been near a river and Han Hsin knew that Chin Pa must cross it on his retreat. So, before the battle was fought, Han Hsin had written, in honey, on a big stone slab near the ford, these four words, “Heaven Destroy Hsiang Yi.” The last two words were Chin Pa’s name. A swarm of ants scenting the honey crawled up to eat it, and thus outlined the characters very distinctly.

When Chin Pa came over the river and saw the stone with the four large characters he said, “Woe is me, even the worms and ants know that Heaven has deserted me. I will kill myself.” And then and there, almost in sight of his enemy, the man he had regarded with contempt, he killed himself.

Thus ended a strife of nearly twenty years between two kingdoms, and Han Hsin came to be the Prince of his kingdom. Often during the time of kite-flying in China, away in the heavens one sees a kite in the shape of an old-time warrior, and few of the many beautiful and fancy kites to be seen have such an interesting story. The kite has come to be, in Western lands, merely an amusement, but in China, where it was probably invented, it ever carries with the sport the message, “Strength of mind is greater than strength of body.”

A CHINESE TEA-HOUSE STORY

Chi Hsiao Tang

One day the Emperor Chia Ching called his scribe, the great and crafty Yen Sung, and said, “I want four poems immediately, one on each of the seasons.”

The word was sent out and within a few days poems were presented and accepted on Summer, Autumn, and Winter, but not one written on Spring pleased the Emperor. Again and again the literary men wrote on the subject, but only to fail of his approbation. At last he declared in a rage that unless a poem that could be set to music and sung by the ladies of the palace should immediately be produced there would soon be fewer literary men in the country, and commanded his minister to see that his wishes were at once carried out.