n were screaming and children crying. Nearly all the village
men were away in a distant market town, for none of them had expected
an attack.

Nearer and nearer came the robbers. At last they were next door to
K'ang-p'u's hut, and he knew the time had come for him to do his duty.
Seizing the basket of chicken feathers, he rushed into the house,
snatched the precious tablet from the shelf, and hid it in the bottom of
the basket. Then, without stopping to say good-bye to the spot which he
had known all his life, he rushed out of the gate and down the narrow
street.

"Kill the kid!" shouted a soldier, whom K'ang-p'u nearly ran against in
his hurry. "Put down the basket, boy! No stealing here."

"Yes, kill him!" shouted another with a loud laugh; "he'd make a good
bit of bacon."

But no one touched him, and K'ang-p'u, still holding tightly to his
burden, was soon far out on the winding road among the cornfields. If
they should follow, he thought of hiding among the giant cornstalks. His
legs were tired now, and he sat down under a stone memorial arch near
some crossroads to rest.

Where was he going, and what should he do? These were the questions that
filled the boy's whirling little brain. First, he must find out if the
soldiers were really destroying all the houses in his village. Perhaps
some of them would not be burned and he could return at night to join
his father.

After several failures he managed to climb one of the stone pillars and
from the arch above he could get a good view of the surrounding country.
Over to the west was his village. His heart beat fast when he saw that
a great cloud of smoke was rising from the houses. Clearly, the thieves
were making quick work of the place, and soon there would be nothing
left but piles of mud, brick, ashes and other rubbish.

Night came on. K'ang-p'u clambered down from his stone perch. He was
beginning to feel hungry, and yet he dared not turn back towards home.
And besides, would not all the other villagers be hungry, too? He lay
down at the foot of the stone monument, placing the basket within reach
at one side. Soon he fell fast asleep.

How long he had been sleeping he never knew; but it was not yet day when
he awoke with a start and looked round him in the moonlight. Some one
had called him distinctly by name. At first, he thought it must have
been his father's voice; and then as he grew wider and wider awake he
knew this could not be, for the voice sounde