The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1934-09-24
The Death Of Li-Kwei

blood-stained mountain slope stood
the lad, Yu-kung, silently looking
down on the still face of the boy,
Li-kWei. Where the head had buried
itself in the snow was a pool of
dark frozen blood. The feet w-re
wrapped in dried grass, bound by
old rags. Near the frail, out
stretched hand lay bamboo flute.
Both hands, and one end of the
flute, were covered with fresh
earth.
Yu-kung drew sonbing breath
and looked beyond. Down below,
on the mountain path where the
Red Army had met the White regi-
ment coming from the north, lay
other still bodies. They lay in the
very midst of the enemy, still grasp
ing their spears, knives, and bay
onets. Some lay outstretched over
the rifles they had captured. Chu
Teh and a group of members of
the General Staff were passing
amongst them, bending low, talk
ing.
To Yu-kung's ears came the sound
Of shovels, digging, scraping. They
would soon come for Ii-kwei and
place him by the side Of his COM
rades in the shallow graves, Here,
on a barren Human mountainside,
would lie forever the frail boy whom
Yu-kung had called Di-di-"younge
brother" Brother. No, not by
blood. But from babyhood the two
boys had played together. Yu-kung,
the older by two years, had always
protected, comforted, and guided
little Ld-kwei. Always they had
played at cooking and eating food.
Only once had they pretended to be
their fathers, working in the mines.
An older lad had played the boss,
When he had cracked a whip and
yelled. Li-kwei had only stood and
sobbed miserably. Yu-kung had
forced the older boy to go away,
and the game was never played
again.
But when he was seven, little Ii
kwei learned the reality of the
bosses whips. His frail, childish
body, his weak hands, his tender
childhood, had seemed no hindrance
to the owners of the mines. For he
was the child of worker, a miner.
AS Yukung stood looking down on
"A the still face of his Did, these
memories formed a dark picture,
sweeping by swiftly in little pic
lures. They seemed to march to
the thump Of the shoyels digging
the graves on the slope below First
there came the memory of L-kwei's
hand in his as the two OF them had
walked to the novels they called
home after twelve hours of work in
the ore-sheds of Shuikoushan. Then
came mass meetings Of miners,
struggles, killings of workers. On
January 4th of this year, 1928, came
the Shuikoushan uprising, Yu-kung
taking a part, Li-kwei following.
There followed hard partisan fight
ing as the revolving miners fought
their way to Leiyang. There both
boys became buglers in the Red
Army. But Li-kwei often lay aside
his bugles to play bamboo flute
given him by peasant in Leiyang.
Through Yu-kung's mind there
passed in swift succession memories
of days and nights of marching as
the Red Army fought its way from
Leiyang toward Chaling, the revo-
lutionary mountain city to the east.
The Army had left Leiyang at mid
night. The moon was high. The
wooded ravines to the east lay In
still darkness, the moonlight car
essing the trembling leaves of the
aspen. Clumps of bamboo stood
IN dark beauty, their long slender
fingers reaching sadly toward the
earth. Sharp, precipitous cliffs
raught the CLINT of the moonlight.
Yu-kung and Li-kwei had march
sd with Chu Teh and with two
companies of peasant scouts. The
girl Chang, leader Of the Women's
Union of Leiyang. had married Chu
Teh in Leiyang, and now marched
with them She was member of !
the Political Department of the
Army.
Yu-kung recalled the clank of the
machine guns. The machine gun
ners had taken them apart and |
took turns carrying them and the
bullets. They bent under their bur-
dens, but since all were forbidden
to speak, they neither spoke nor
sang. Right in advance of them
had walked the few lirsae ragged |
mountain ponies, as nimble as
mountain goats, loaded with the
Arny's small cannons. When Ii
kwei had wearied, Chu Teh had
swung him astride one of the ponies.
There, sitting astride the cannons
of the Revolution, Li-kwei played
soft, wistful folk melodies on his
bamboo flute.
VU-KUNG recalled also the masses
of Leiyang. Brave, heroic, filled
with love for the Red Army. The
feng yin tui-"sewing- cutting corps"
of women and girls had never
rested until the last uniform, the
last coat and trousers, had been
washed, repaired, patched. When
*Used often in addressing young