K'ung-ming, much impressed, bowed before the image of the great leader, and said, "Your humble servant received a sacred trust, the protection of the son of the First Ruler. That son, the present king, sent him here to subdue the Mans that the land might be free from peril when he decided to attack Wei and take possession of Wu and thereby restore the glory of the Hans. But the soldiers are ignorant of the country, and some of them have drunk of a poisonous spring so that they have become dumb. Your servant earnestly prays your honoured spirit, out of regard for the kindness and justice of the present king, to reveal your spiritual character and manifest your holiness by safeguarding and assisting the army."

Having prayed thus, K'ung-ming left the temple. While seeking some native whom he might question, he saw in the distance, on a hill opposite, an aged man leaning on a staff. He approached, and as he drew nearer K'ung-ming noted his extraordinary appearance. When he had reached the temple, he asked the venerable visitor to walk in. After the salutations, the old man sat on the stones, and K'ung-ming opened the conversation with the usual questions. The old gentleman replied, "Sir Minister, I know you well by repute, and am happy to meet you. Many of the Mans owe their lives to you, and all have been deeply impressed by your kindness."

Then K'ung-ming returned to the matter nearest his heart, the mystery of the spring. The old man told him the name of that spring and the symptoms its waters produced, and went on to speak of the other three springs and the malarial exhalations, just as has been related.

"In short, the Mans cannot be conquered," said K'ung-ming, when the old man had finished. "And Wu cannot be repressed, nor Wei overcome. And the Hans cannot be restored. So, I fail in the task set me by my king. Would that I might die!" "Be not so cast down, O Minister," said the aged one. "I can lead you to a place where you may counteract all this."

"I would ask for your instruction, Venerable One," said K'ung-ming. "What exalted advice have you to confer upon me? I hope you will instruct me."

"West of this, not far off, is a valley, and twenty li from its entrance is a stream called 'Wanan,' near which there lives a recluse known as the Hermit of the Stream. He has not left the valley these twenty years. Behind his hut there gushes out a spring of water, called the 'Spring of the Medicine of Tranquillity.' This is the antidote to your poison. Bathing in its waters is a cure for skin diseases and for malaria. Moreover, near the hut grows a herb called hsiehyeh yünhsiang, "the garlic-leaved fragrance." Chewing a leaf of this safeguards one from malaria. You can do no better than go to the hut of the recluse forthwith and get these remedies."

K'ung-ming humbly thanked his aged counsellor, and said, "Venerable Sir, I am profoundly affected by your merciful kindness and compassion. May I ask again by what name I may call you?"

The old man rose and entered the temple, saying, "I am the Spirit of this mountain, sent by Fu-po Chiang-chün to guide you."

As he said this he shouted at the solid rock behind the temple, and it opened of itself and let him in.”

K'ung-ming's astonishment was beyond words. He made another obeisance to the Spirit of the temple and went down by the way he had come. Then he returned to his camp.

Next day, bearing incense and gifts, Wang P'ing and his stricken men went off to the spot which the old man had indicated. They quickly found the valley and followed its narrow road till they came to a small, farm-like enclosure, where tall pines and lofty cypresses, luxuriant bamboos and gorgeous flowers sheltered a few simple huts. An exquisite perfume pervaded the whole place.

K'ung-ming rejoiced to recognise the spot and at once knocked at the door. A lad answered his knock, and K'ung-ming was telling his name when the host came out quickly, saying, "Surely my visitor is the Prime Minister of the Han Dynasty?"

K'ung-ming saw at the door a man with a bamboo comb holding back his hair, grass shoes on his feet, and a robe of white girded in by a black girdle. He had grey eyes and a reddish beard.

"Great Scholar, how did you know who I was?" said Kʻungming.

"How could I not have heard of your expedition to the south?"

He invited K'ung-ming to enter, and when they had seated themselves in their relative positions as host and guest, K‘ungming said, "My former master, the Emperor, confided to me the care of his son and successor. That son, now Emperor, gave me a command to lead an army to this country, get the Mans on our side and spread our culture among them. But now to my disappointment Mênghuo, the king, has hidden. himself in a certain ravine, and some of my men on the way to seek him drank of a certain fountain and are dumb. But last evening the former leader of an expedition, Fu-po Chiangchün, manifested his sacred presence and told me that you, Exalted Sir, had a remedy for this evil, and I pray you of your pity to give me of the potent fluid whereby my soldiers' lives may be saved."

The recluse replied, "I am only a worthless old man of the wild woods and unworthy of the visit of such as you, O Minister. The water you desire flows out at the back of my cottage and you may take what you will of it."

The serving lad then showed Wang P'ing and his dumb companions to the stream, and he dipped up the waters for them to drink. As soon as they had drunk they coughed up some mucus and could speak. The lad also led the soldiers to a place where they could bathe.

In the cottage the recluse regaled K'ung-ming with tea made of cypress seeds and a conserve of pine flowers. He also told his guest that in the ravines were many serpents and scorpions, and that the lily flowers blown into the springs by the wind made them unfit to drink. However, if he dug wells he would find good water.

Then K'ung-ming begged some of the garlic-leaved yünhsiang as an antidote against malaria. The recluse said the soldiers could pluck as much as they wanted. And so every man put a leaf in his mouth and thus became malaria-proof. K'ung-ming, with a low bow then begged to be told the name of his benefactor.

"I am Mênghuo's eldest brother," said the recluse, smiling. "My name is Mêngchieh."

K'ung-ming started.

"Do not be afraid," said the recluse. "Let me explain. We were three brothers of the same parents, the eldest being myself. Our parents are both dead. My brother Mênghuo, being headstrong and vicious, has never been amenable to culture. I have talked to him many times, but he kept his own course. Finally, under an assumed name, I retired to this spot. I am ashamed for my brother's rebellion, which has put you, O Minister, to the trouble of making this expedition into a barren country, but it has given me the privilege of seeing you. For my responsibility in this I deserve to die a thousand times, as I own to your face, and I beg your pardon." K'ung-ming sighed, saying, "Now I believe that story of Robber Chih and Liu Hsia Hui; this is the same thing over again. Men renowned for virtue and villainy may come from the same stock."

Then he said to his host, "Would you wish me to represent your merits to the Emperor and get you created a prince?"

"How can you think I desire honours or wealth when I am here because of my contempt for all such things?"

K'ung-ming then wished to make him certain presents, but the recluse would have none of them.

So taking leave of his host K'ung-ming went back to his camp.

In the southern expedition when the Mantsz were subdued, K'ung-ming found a high-born recluse in a shady solitude. Up till then the gloomy forests were thought destitute of men, That no curling smoke wreath ever floated upwards from the glen. As soon as K'ung-ming reached camp he set the men digging for water.

They dug to a great depth but found none; nor

were they more successful when they tried other places. They were very discouraged. Then K'ung-ming in the depths of the night burned incense and prayed to God:-"Unworthy as is thy servant Liang, he has received favour from the Great Hans and now has been ordered to subdue the Mans. Alas! now our water is spent and my men and animals are parched with thirst. If Thy will be to preserve the line of Han then give, I beseech Thee, sweet water, but if their course is run, then may Thy servant and those with him die in this place." The morning after this prayer the wells were full of sweet water.

The Mantzu must be conquered; Chuko led a great array,
Though his skill was superhuman, yet he held the righteous way;
As the wells gave forth sweet water when Kêng Kung's head bowed
full low,

So the reverent prayers of Chuko made the lower springs to flow.

The soldiers' spirits revived with the supply of water, and the army soon advanced by hill paths to the Valley of the Bald Dragon, where they camped.

When Mênghuo heard the news he was greatly taken aback. "These men do not appear to have suffered either thirst or fever," said he. "Our springs have lost their power."

Tossŭ, the king, heard it, but doubted. He and Mênghuo ascended into a high hill whence they could see their enemies. They saw no signs of illness or distress; all went on calmly and quietly in the camps, water carrying and cooking, eating and attending to the cattle. Tossu's hair stood on end as he looked at them.

"These are not human soldiers," said he, shivering.

"We two brothers will fight one fierce battle with these men of Shu and die therein," said Mênghuo, "We cannot wait calmly to be put into bonds."

"But, O King, if your men should be beaten my whole family will also perish. Let us encourage the men of the ravines. Let us kill bullocks and slaughter horses to feed them and urge them to go through fire and water to rush right up to the camp of the enemy and seize upon victory."

So there was great feasting before the Mans took the field. Just as this was going on, there arrived one Yang Fêng, lord of twenty-and-one ravines in the west, and he led three legions. Mênghuo rejoiced exceedingly at this unexpected addition to his army and felt sure of victory. So he and Tossŭ went out of their own valley to welcome Yang Fêng, who said, "I have with me three legions of men in iron mail, brave and intrepid men, who can fly over mountains and bound across the peaks; they of themselves are a match for the enemy even if they numbered a hundred legions. And, moreover, my five sons, all trained in arms, are with me, all to help you, O King."

The five sons were brought in and presented. They were handsome young fellows, bold and martial looking. Father and sons were entertained at a banquet. Halfway through the feast Yang Fêng proposed a diversion.

"There is but scanty amusement in the field," said Yang, "and so I have brought along some native singing girls who have been taught fencing and such things. If you care for it, they might give an exhibition."

The feasters hailed the suggestion with joy, and soon the half score maidens came to the front of the tent. Their hair hung about their shoulders, and they were barefooted. They danced and skipped and went through their performance outside. The guests inside clapped their hands and applauded their skill, and the soldiers joined in the choruses.

Presently, at a signal from their father, two of Yang's sons bore a goblet to Mênghuo and two others to his brother. They took the cups and were raising them to their lips when Yang shouted a single word of command, and, instantly, the cupbearers had the two Mêngs out of their seats and helpless in their hands. At this, Tossŭ jumped up to run away, but Yang Fêng gripped him, and he was a prisoner too. The Man maidens ranged themselves in a line along the front of the tent so that none dared approach.

"When the hare dies the fox mourns," said Mênghuo. "One sympathises with one's own as a rule. We are both chiefs and have been friends. I know not why you should injure me."

"I had to repay Chuko Liang the Minister for his compassion on me and mine, and there was no way till you rebelled. Why should I not offer up a rebel in propitiation?"

Leaving Mênghuc and his brother and Tossŭ in the hands of Yang Fêng, the Man warriors dispersed, each man returning to his own valley. Liu Fêng then took the prisoners to the camp of Shu, where he bowed at the tent door, saying, "I and my sons and the sons of my brother are grateful to you for much kindness, wherefore we bring to you as an offering the persons of these rebels."

K'ung-ming rewarded Yang and bade them bring forward the king.

"This time are you prepared to yield?" said the minister.

"It is not your ability, but the treachery of my own people that has brought me to this. If you wish to slay, slay; but I will not yield."

"You know you were the cause of my men entering into a waterless land, where there were those four evil fountains, and yet my soldiers were not poisoned and came to no harm. Does it not seem to you like evidence of a superior protecting power? Why will you follow this misguided road and always be obstinate?"