screaming projectiles. The echoes of the final battle had scarcely died
away. The trains of Japanese wounded and Japanese dead were trailing by.

On the conical hill, a quarter of a mile away, the Russian dead were
being buried in their trenches and in the shell holes made by the
Japanese. And here, in the thick of it all, a man was ploughing. Green
things were growing--young onions--and the man who was weeding them
paused from his labour long enough to sell me a handful. Near by was the
smoke-blackened ruin of the farmhouse, fired by the Russians when they
retreated from the riverbed. Two men were removing the debris, cleaning
the confusion, preparatory to rebuilding. They were clad in blue.
Pigtails hung down their backs. I was in China!

I rode to the shore, into the village of Kuelian-Ching. There were no
lounging men smoking long pipes and chattering. The previous day the
Russians had been there, a bloody battle had been fought, and to-day the
Japanese were there--but what was that to talk about? Everybody was
busy. Men were offering eggs and chickens and fruit for sale upon the
street, and bread, as I live, bread in small round loaves or buns. I
rode on into the country. Everywhere a toiling population was in
evidence. The houses and walls were strong and substantial. Stone and
brick replaced the mud walls of the Korean dwellings. Twilight fell and
deepened, and still the ploughs went up and down the fields, the sowers
following after. Trains of wheelbarrows, heavily loaded, squeaked by,
and Pekin carts, drawn by from four to six cows, horses, mules, ponies,
or jackasses--cows even with their newborn calves tottering along on puny
legs outside the traces. Everybody worked. Everything worked. I saw a
man mending the road. I was in China.

I came to the city of Antung, and lodged with a merchant. He was a grain
merchant. Corn he had, hundreds of bushels, stored in great bins of
stout matting; peas and beans in sacks, and in the back yard his
millstones went round and round, grinding out meal. Also, in his back
yard, were buildings containing vats sunk into the ground, and here the
tanners were at work making leather. I bought a measure of corn from
mine host for my horses, and he overcharged me thirty cents. I was in
China. Antung was jammed with Japanese troops. It was the thick of war.
But it did not matter. The work of Antung went on just the same. The
shops were wide open; the str