loud shouts and feigning the voices of savage beasts of the
forest and deadly snakes."
"And beyond that?" inquired Ling.
"Beyond that there are no instructions," replied the Chief. "The
bowmen would then naturally take to flight, or, if such a course became
impossible, run to meet the enemy, protesting that they were convinced
of the justice of their cause, and were determined to fight on their
side in the future."
"Would it not be of advantage to arm them with cutting weapons also?"
inquired Ling; "so that when all their arrows were discharged they would
still be able to take part in the fight, and not be lost to us?"
"They would not be lost to us, of course," replied the Chief, "as we
would still be with them. But such a course as the one you suggest could
not fail to end in dismay. Being as well armed as ourselves, they
would then turn upon us, and, having destroyed us, proceed to establish
leaders of their own."
As Ling and the Chief of Bowmen conversed in this enlightened manner,
there arose a great outcry from among the tents, and presently there
entered to them a spy who had discovered a strong force of the enemy not
more than ten or twelve li away, who showed every indication of marching
shortly in the direction of Si-chow. In numbers alone, he continued,
they were greatly superior to the bowmen, and all were well armed. The
spreading of this news threw the entire camp into great confusion, many
protesting that the day was not a favourable one on which to fight,
others crying that it was their duty to fall back on Si-chow and protect
the women and children. In the midst of this tumult the Chief of Bowmen
returned to Ling, bearing in his hand a written paper which he regarded
in uncontrollable anguish.
"Oh, illustrious Ling," he cried, restraining his grief with difficulty,
and leaning for support upon the shoulders of two bowmen, "how
prosperous indeed are you! What greater misfortune can engulf a person
who is both an ambitious soldier and an affectionate son, than to lose
such a chance of glory and promotion as only occurs once within the
lifetime, and an affectionate and venerable father upon the same day?
Behold this mandate to attend, without a moment's delay, at the funeral
obsequies of one whom I left, only last week, in the fullness of health
and power. The occasion being an unsuitable one, I will not call upon
the courteous Ling to join me in sorrow; but his own devout filial piety
is so w
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