# San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 88

CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
Crossing the River Lu; Binding of the Barbarian King; Recognising a Pretended Surrender; Capture of Menghuo.
The officers did not approve of the release of the King of the Mans, and they came to the tent of K‘ung-ming and said, “Mênghuo is the most important personage of all the Mans, and his capture is the key to restoring order in the south. Why then, O Minister, did you release him?”
“I can capture him just as easily as I can get something out of my pocket. What I want to do is to overcome and win his heart, so that peace may follow of itself.”
They listened, but they had no great confidence in the success of the policy of conciliation.
In the meantime Mênghuo had reached the Lu River, and there he fell in with some of his defeated men, who were trying to get news of their king’s fate. They were surprised, but glad, to see him, and asked how he had been able to get back.
The king lied, saying, “They confined me in a tent, and I broke out in the night. I slew a half score of my guards and ran. And then I met one of their spies, killed him, and that is how I got this horse.”
They never doubted his word, and very joyfully they hurried him over the river to a camping place. Then all the notables assembled from the various ravines, and the soldiers that had escaped death were mustered and got into shape as a fighting force.
The two leaders in the late campaign, Tungt‘una and Ahuinan, were in one of the ravines, and the king sent to ask them to come. They were afraid, but they could not disobey, and they came with an escort. When all had assembled, the king proclaimed as follows:—“I know Chuko Liang is too full of ruses for us to conquer him in a fight; we should only fall victims to other base devices. However, we must remember that his men have marched far and the weather is sultry, which are factors in our favour. Beside, the Lu River is our rampart. We will have boats and rafts on the south side, and we will build a mud wall. With such good defences we can afford to wait and see what the enemy intends.”
His speech met with approval, and his plan was carried out. The wall was supported by the hills and strengthened by fighting turrets, upon which were placed large bows and ​crossbows and balistae. The defences looked as if they were permanent. Moreover, each ravine sent supplies in plenty. And having made these preparations, Mênghuo felt comfortable and safe.
K‘ung-ming had advanced, and his leading division was now close to the river. However, no boats or rafts could be found to cross, and the current was too strong to think of fording. Beside, they could see the formidable defences on the farther bank, the mud wall and the turrets all fully manned. The weather was burning hot, for it was the fifth mouth, and the soldiers could not tolerate their armour nor even their clothing.
When K‘ung-ming had inspected the river, he returned to his tent and assembled his officers, to whom he read this order: “The enemy is securely established on the south bank ready to repel our attack. Yet, having come so far, we cannot return empty. For the present you will all seek what shelter you can find in the forests, and rest and refresh your men.”
Then he sent Lu K‘ai to a distance to select a cool spot, and there he made two stockades. Within the stockades he built huts for the men and sheds for the horses, so that they were sheltered from the intense heat.
However, a junior captain, Chiang Wan, was ready to carp at these shelters, and went to Kʻung-ming, saying, “These shelters of Lu K‘ai’s are very unsuitable. He has made the same mistake as that which led to the defeat of our former king at the hands of Wu. He has not taken into account the surroundings of the stockades, and if the Mans should come over and start a fire, there could be no rescue.”
“Do not anticipate trouble,” said the Commander-in-chief, smiling. “I have provided against all such dangers.”
The fault-finder did not know what the chief meant to do, but he said no more. Then Ma Tai arrived from Ch'êngtu, and he brought summer medicines and further supplies of grain. He saw K‘ung-ming, and then proceeded to distribute the supplies he had brought according to orders.
Then K‘ung-ming said, “What force have you brought?”
“Three companies,” was the reply.
“My men are weary and worn out; I want to use yours. You have no objections?”
“Of course not; they are equally government troops. They are ready even to die for you if you wish.”
“This Mênghuo is established on the river, and we have no means of crossing. But I am anxious to intercept his supplies, so that his men may mutiny.”
“How can you do it?”
“Some distance lower down there is a place called Shak‘ou, where the current is slow; you could cross there on rafts wish you and your men to cross and cut the road of supplies. ​After that you are to arrange with the two leaders whose lives I spared to be your allies on the inside, and we shall succeed.”
Ma Tai went off gladly enough, and marched his men to Sha‘kou, where they set about the crossing at once. And as the water was shallow they did not trouble to make rafts, but just tucked up their clothes and waded in. But half-way across, the men began to fall over; and when they had been rescued and taken to the bank many of them began to bleed from the nose and mouth and died. In great alarm, Ma Tai sent hasty messages to K‘ung-ming, who called in the guides and asked what this meant. They told him that it happened so every year. In the hot season, poisonous miasma collected over the waters of the Lu River, especially during the heat of the day. Anyone who drank the water would surely die. Travellers who wished to cross had to wait till night, because the cooler waters did not breathe out the poisonous vapours. Further, the natives said the crossing should be attempted on a full stomach.
K‘ung-ming bade the local guides point out the best crossing place. He sent some well-seasoned soldiers to Ma Tai to lash together poles into rafts at Shak‘ou, and in the night the crossing was safely accomplished. Further, the guides then led the men of Shu over to where the grain road of the Mans led through a narrow valley, called Chiashan Gorge, where, for part of the way, only single file was possible as the road was only wide enough for a man and a horse.
Ma Tai at once occupied this valley and stationed a force there. And a stockade was put up with tents inside. Presently a convoy of grain came along, and it was captured. The men ran off to the king’s great camp and told him.
Mênghuo, thinking all was safe during the hot season, was enjoying himself; wine and music were the order of the day, and military matters were far from his thoughts. In his cups he admitted K‘ung-ming was ruseful, but said his army had nothing to fear.
“If I attempt to oppose Chuko Liang I shall certainly fall a victim to some wile of his. However, my waiting policy is a safe one. With our defences, and the river to back them, we can wait for the heat to overcome these men of Shu, who cannot stand the hot season. They will have to retreat, and then we can harass them. And we will capture this Chuko.”
He lay back and laughed at the thought. However, one chief, more prudent than the others, stood forth and said, “Remember the shallows at Shak‘ou; it would be very serious if the men of Shu got across there secretly. It ought to be guarded.”
“You belong to these parts. Do you not know that I want the enemy to try to get across there? Why, they will all perish in the water.”
​“But what if the natives tell them to cross only in the night?”
“Do not be so anxious,” said Mênghuo. “Our own people will not help the enemy that far.”
It was just then that intelligence came that the men of Shu had crossed the river and, moreover, had seized the Chiashan Gorge. The flags showed that the commander was Ma Tai.
Mênghuo affected indifference. “This sort of fellow is not worth talking about,” said he.
He sent a junior officer named Mangyachang with three companies to recapture the gorge and reopen the grain road.
When Ma Tai saw the Man soldiers approaching, he placed two companies in front of the hills and drew up the others in formal array. Then Mangyachang rode out to give battle. This was but a small engagement, as the barbarian fell at the first stroke of Ma Tai’s sword. The Mans ran away at once. They returned to the king’s camp and told him what had happened. Whereupon he called up all his captains and asked for another to go up against Ma Tai.
“I will go,” cried Tungt‘una.
The king gave him three companies. After he had gone, Mênghuo thought it would be wise to keep others from crossing the river. So he sent a force to guard Shak‘ou.
Tungt‘una duly arrived at the gorge and made a camp. Ma Tai came out to meet him. Among the men in his cohort were some who recognised the leader of the Mans and told Ma Tai certain things about how he had been captured and liberated. So Ma Tai galloped toward him, shouting out reproaches of ingratitude and so on. Tungt‘una was very greatly ashamed and turned red in the face, and went away without striking a blow. Ma Tai followed and fell on, slaying many of the Mans. Tungt‘una went back and told the king that Ma Tai was too strong for him.
But the king was angry, and cried, “You are a traitor! I know Chuko Liang was good to you, and that is why you would not fight.”
He ordered Tungt‘una out to execution. However, the notables and chiefs interceded, and the death penalty was remitted, but the unhappy leader was severely beaten, one hundred strokes with the heavy staff.
The chiefs were mostly on the side of the beaten captain and against the king’s policy.
They said, “Though we live in the Man country we have never had any thoughts of rebellion against the Central Government, nor has China ever encroached upon our land. We must own that Mênghuo’s superior power forced us into this rising, and we could not help ourselves. K‘ung-ming is too clever for us, and no one can guess what he may do. Even Ts‘ao Ts‘ao and Sun Ch'üan fear him; how much more must ​we? Moreover, we have received kindness at his hands and owe him our lives. We ought to show our gratitude. Now let us at all risks slay this Mênghuo and submit to K‘ung-ming so that our people may not suffer.”
Tungt‘una said, “I do not know your inner sentiments.”
At this, all those who had been prisoners and released cried with one voice, “We desire to go to him.”
Thereupon Tungt‘una took in his hand a sharp sword, placed himself at the head of the malcontents and rushed into the great camp. At that moment Mênghuo was, as usual, intoxicated and lay in his tent. The mutineers rushed in. They found two captains on guard.
“You also received kindness from K‘ung-ming and ought to repay it,” cried Tungt‘una.
They replied, “You may not slay him; let us carry him a prisoner to K‘ung-ming.”
So they bound the king securely, took him down to the river and crossed in a boat to the northern bank. There they halted while they sent a messenger to K‘ung-ming.
Now K‘ung-ming knew what had been happening, and he had issued orders for every camp to prepare their weapons. All being ready, he told the chiefs to bring up their prisoner, and bade the others return to their camps. Tungt‘una went first and told the matter to K‘ung-ming, who praised his zeal and gave him presents. Then he retired to summon the chiefs. When they had arrived, the executioners brought in Mênghuo.
“You said once before that if you were captured again you would give in,” said K‘ung-ming, smiling. “Now will you yield?”
“This capture is not your work,” replied the king. “It is the work of these minions of mine who want to hurt me. I will not yield on this.”
“If I free you again, what then?”
“I am only a Man, I know, but I am not wholly ignorant of war. If you, O Minister, let me return to my ravines I will muster another army and fight a decisive battle with you. If you capture me again then I will incline my heart and own myself beaten and yield. I will not go back on my promise again.”
“If you refuse to yield next time you are captured, I shall hardly pardon you.”
At K‘ung-ming’s orders the cords were loosed and refreshments were brought for the prisoner.
“Remember,” said K‘ung-ming, “I have never failed yet. I have never failed to win a battle or to take a city I have assaulted. Why do you Mans not yield?”
Mênghuo only nodded his head; he said nothing. After the wine, K‘ung-ming and Mênghuo rode round the camps together, and the king saw all the arrangements and the piles of ​stores and heaps of weapons, and after the inspection he said, “You are silly not to yield to me. You see my veteran soldiers, my able captains, my stores of all kinds and war gear; how can you hope to prevail against me? If you will yield I will inform His Majesty, and you shall retain your kingship and your sons and grandsons shall succeed as perpetual guardians of the Man country. Do you not think it would be well?”
The king replied, “If I did yield, the men of my valleys would not be content. If you release me once more I will see to it that my own men keep the peace and bring them round to unanimity of feeling, and then they will not oppose any more.”
But Mênghuo’s first act on his return to his own camp was to assassinate the two leaders Tungt‘una and Ahuinan. Their corpses were thrown into a gully. Then he sent his friends to guard the most important strategical points, while he marched to fight a battle with Ma Tai. But when he got near the valley he saw no signs of the enemy, and, on questioning an inhabitant, he heard that the Shu army, with all their stores, had recrossed the river and joined the main body.
Mênghuo then returned to his own ravine and discussed matters with his brother, Mêngyu, and told him that he knew all the details of the enemy’s force from what he had seen in their camp, and he gave his brother certain instructions, which he at once began to carry out. He loaded a hundred men with gold and jewels and pearls and ivory and rhinoceros horn, crossed the Lu River and was on his way to the main camp, when he was stopped by a cohort under Ma Tai himself. He did not expect to meet an enemy, and was surprised. But Ma Tai only asked what he had come for. And when he had heard, Mêngyu was detained while a message was sent to K‘ung-ming.
The messenger arrived while a council was in progress, the matter under discussion being how to reduce the Mans. When the messenger had announced that Mêngyu had come bearing gifts of gold and pearls and such things, K‘ung-ming turned to Ma Su, who was there, saying, “Know you why this man has come?”
“I dare not say plainly; but let me write it,” said Ma Su.
“Write it, then.”
So Ma Su wrote and handed the paper to his chief, who had no sooner read it than he clapped his hands with joy, crying, “What you say is exactly what I think. But you may know I have already made arrangements for the capture of Mênghuo.”
Then Chao Yün was called, and some orders were whispered into his ear. Next Wei Yen came, and he also went off with secret orders. Wang P‘ing, Ma Chung and Kuan So also came, and left with particular instructions.
​All these things done, the bearer of gifts was called. He came and bowed low at the door of the tent, saying, “The brother of my house, Ménghuo, having received great kindness at your hands in sparing his life, feels bound to offer a paltry gift. He has presumed to collect a few pearls and some gold and other trifling jewels by way of something to give your soldiers. And hereafter he will send tribute to your Emperor.”
“Where is your brother at this moment?” asked K‘ung-ming.
“Having been the recipient of your great bounty, he has gone to the Silver Pit Hills (Yink'êng Shan) to collect some treasures. He will soon return.”
“How many men have you brought?”
“Only about a hundred; I should not dare to bring any large number. They are just porters.”
They were brought in for K‘ung-ming’s inspection. They had blue eyes and swarthy faces, auburn hair and brown beards. They wore earrings. Their hair was fuzzy, and they went barefoot. They were tall and powerful.
K‘ung-ming made them sit down, and bade his captains press them to drink and treat them well and compliment them.
The King Mênghuo was anxious about the reception that would be given to his brother and the treatment of his gifts, so he sat in his tent expecting the messenger at any moment. Then two men came, and he questioned them eagerly. They said the presents had been accepted, and even the porters had been invited to drink in the tent and had been regaled with beef and flesh in plenty.
“O King, your brother sent us with the news, and we were to tell you secretly that all would be ready at the second watch.”
This was pleasing news, and he prepared his three legions ready to march out to the camp. They were divided into three divisions. The king called up his chieftains and notables, and said, “Let each army carry the means of making fire, and as soon as they arrive let a light be shown as a signal. I am coming to try to capture Chuko Liang.”
With these orders they marched, and they crossed the Lu River in the dusk. The king, with a hundred captains as escort, pressed on at once toward the main camp of Shu. They met with no opposition. They even found the main gate open, and Mênghuo and his party rode straight in. But the camp was a desert; not a man was visible.
Mênghuo rode right up to the large tent and pushed open the flap. It was brilliantly lighted with lamps, and lying about under their light were his brother and all his men, dead drunk. The wine they had been pressed to drink while the plays were going on had been heavily drugged, and the men ​had fallen down almost as soon as they had swallowed it. One or two who had recovered a little could not speak: they only pointed to their mouths.
Mênghuo then saw that he had been the simple victim of another ruse. However, he picked up his brother and the others and started off to return to his main army.
But as he turned, torches began to flash out and drums to beat. The Mans were frightened and took to their heels. But they were pursued, and the pursuing cohort was led by Wang P‘ing. The king bore away to the left to escape, but again a cohort appeared in front of him; Wei Yen was there. He tried the other side; and was stopped by Chao Yün. He was in a trap; and attacked on three sides and no fourth to escape by, what could he do? He abandoned everything, making one wild rush for the Lu River.
As he reached the river bank he saw a bark on the river with Man soldiers on board. Here was safety. He hailed the boat and jumped on board as soon as it touched the bank. No sooner had he embarked than suddenly he was seized and bound. The boat, which Ma Tai had provided and prepared, was part of the general plan, and the Man soldiers therein were his men disguised.
Many of Mênghuo’s men accepted the chance of surrender held out by K‘ung-ming, who soothed them and treated them well and did not injure one of them.
The remains of the conflagration were stamped out, and in a short time Ma Tai brought along his prisoner. At the same time Chao Yün led in his brother, Mêngyu. Each of the other captains had some prisoners too, chiefs or notables.
K‘ung-ming looked at the king and laughed. “That was but a shallow ruse of yours to send your brother with presents to pretend to submit to me; did you really think I should not see through it? But here you are once more in my power; now do you yield?”
“I am a prisoner owing to the gluttony of my brother and the power of your poisonous drugs. If I had only played his part myself and left him to support me with soldiers, I should have succeeded. I am the victim of fate and not of my own incapacity. No; I will not yield.”
“Remember this is the third time; why not?” said K‘ungming.
Mênghuo dropped his head and made no answer.
“Ah well; I will let you go once more,” said K‘ung-ming.
“O Minister, if you will let me and my brother go we will get together our family and clients and fight you once more. If I am caught that time then I will confess myself beaten to the ground, and that shall be the end.”
“Certainly I shall scarcely pardon you next time,” said K‘ung-ming. “You had better be careful. Diligently tackle ​your Book of Strategy: look over your list of confidants. If you can apply a good plan at the proper moment you will not have any need for late regrets.”
The king and his brother and all the chiefs were released from their bonds. They thanked K‘ung-ming for his clemency and went away.
By the time the released prisoners had got back to the river the army of Shu had crossed to the farther side and were all in order with their flags fluttering in the breeze. As Mênghuo passed the camp, he saw Ma Tai sitting in state. Ma Tai pointed his sword at the king as he passed, and said, “Next time you are caught you will not escape.”
When Mênghuo came to his own camp he found Chao Yün in possession and all in order. Chao Yün was seated beneath the large banner, with his sword drawn, and as the king passed, he also said, “Do not presume on the kindness of the Prime Minister because you have been generously treated.”
Mênghuo grunted and passed on. Just as he was going over the frontier hills he saw Wei Yen and a company drawn up on the slopes. Wei Yen shouted, “See to it; we have got into the inmost recesses of your country and have taken all your defensive positions. Yet you are fool enough to hold out. Next time you are caught you will be quite destroyed. There will be no more pardons.”
Mênghuo and his companies ran away with their arms over their heads. Each one returned to his own ravine.
In the fifth moon, when the sun is fierce, Marched the army into the desert land, Marched to the Lu River, bright and clear, But deadly with miasma. K‘ung-ming the leader cared not, Pledged was he to subdue the south Thereby to repay deference with service. Wherefore he attacked the Mans. Yet seven times he freed their captured king.
After the crossing of the river the soldiers were feasted. Then he addressed his officers.
“I let Mênghuo see our camp the second time he was our prisoner because I wanted to tempt him into raiding it. He is something of a soldier, and I dangled our supplies and resources before his eyes, knowing he would try to burn them and that he would send his brother to pretend to submit that thereby he could get into our camp and have a chance to betray us. I have captured and released him three times, trying to win him over. I do not wish to do him any harm. I now explain my policy that you may understand I am not wasting your efforts and you are not still to work your best for the government.” ​They all bowed, and one said, “O Minister, you are indeed perfect in every one of the three gifts: wisdom, benevolence and valor. Not even Chiang Tzǔ-ya or Chang Liang can equal you!”
Said K‘ung-ming, “How can I expect to equal our men of old? But my trust is in your strength, and together we shall succeed.”
This speech of their leader’s pleased them all mightily.
In the meantime Mênghuo, puffed up with pride at getting off three times, hastened home to his own ravine, whence he sent trusted friends with gifts to the Eight Hordes of Barbarians and the Ninety-three Tribes and all the Man quarters and clans to borrow shields and swords and Lao warriors and braves. He got together ten legions. They all assembled on an appointed day, massing like clouds and sweeping in like mists gathering on the mountains, each and all obeying the commands of the King Mênghuo.
And the scouts knew it all, and they told K‘ung-ming, who said, “This is what I was waiting for, that the Mans should have an opportunity of knowing our might.”
Thereupon he seated himself in a small carriage and went out to watch.
O let our enemy’s courage glow That we our greater might may show.
The history of the campaign will be continued in the next chapter.