one, either by the destruction of their homes or because of fear
excited by the acts of the soldiers.

Soon after leaving Ichon I came on a village where the Red Cross was flying
over one of the houses. The place was a native Anglican church. I was later
on to see the Red Cross over many houses, for the people had the idea that
by thus appealing to the Christians' God they made a claim on the pity and
charity of the Christian nations.

In the evening, after I had settled down in the yard of the native inn, the
elders of the Church came to see me, two quiet-spoken, grave, middle-aged
men. They were somewhat downcast, and said that their village had suffered
considerably, the parties of soldiers passing through having taken what
they wanted and being guilty of some outrages. A gardener's wife had been
violated by a Japanese soldier, another soldier standing guard over the
house with rifle and fixed bayonet. A boy, attracted by the woman's
screams, ran and fetched the husband. He came up, knife in hand. "But what
could he do?" the elders asked. "There was the soldier, with rifle and
bayonet, before the door."

Later on I was to hear other stories, very similar to this. These tales
were confirmed on the spot, so far as confirmation was possible. In my
judgment such outrages were not numerous, and were limited to exceptional
parties of troops. But they produced an effect altogether disproportionate
to their numbers. The Korean has high ideals about the sanctity of his
women, and the fear caused by a comparatively few offences was largely
responsible for the flight of multitudes to the hills.

In the burning of villages, a certain number of Korean women and children
were undoubtedly killed. The Japanese troops seem in many cases to have
rushed a village and to have indulged in miscellaneous wild shooting, on
the chance of there being rebels around, before firing the houses. In one
hamlet, where I found two houses still standing, the folk told me that
these had been left because the Japanese shot the daughter of the owner of
one of them, a girl of ten. "When they shot her," the villagers said, "we
approached the soldiers, and said, 'Please excuse us, but since you have
killed the daughter of this man you should not burn his house.' And the
soldiers listened to us."

In towns like Chong-ju and Won-ju practically all the women and children
and better-class families had disappeared. The shops were shut and
barricaded by their