Dragon Seed: The Story of China at War by Pearl S. Buck Page B

who love our country,” he said, “listen to me. Yesterday the enemy flew over the city and dropped the bombs which destroyed houses and shops and killed men and women and children. The war has begun. We must be prepared for it. We must fight against the enemy. We must resist until we are dead and then our sons must resist after us. Listen, brave men! The enemy is succeeding at first but they shall not succeed at last. They have taken our land one hundred miles deep, but we must not let them take the second hundred miles. If they take it in spite of us then we must hold the next hundred miles. Fight! Fight!”
    Now when Ling Tan’s son heard these brave words he cried out, “Good!” and so did other young men. But Ling Tan looked at his empty hands.
    “How shall I fight?” he called out.
    That young man had already stepped down and was gone on his way and there was none to answer him, for all were as empty-handed as he.
    And then as though to mock these empty hands suddenly out of the east there came the sound that these people now knew as well as they knew the beat of their own hearts.
    “The ships—the flying ships—” men gasped, and before Ling Tan could stir, the room was empty and there were left only he and his son and the waiter.
    “You, sir, had better hide yourself,” the waiter said.
    “Where can I hide from such evil as this?” Ling Tan shouted. “And why do you not hide?”
    “I have no need to hide,” the waiter replied, “since I have lost everything except myself.”
    And while the hateful roar came close the waiter went about the empty shop wiping off the tables and pouring the tea out of the bowls the men had left half full, and setting the benches straight. Nearer the din came until when Ling Tan tried to speak to his son he could not hear his own voice. He had been about to speak because his son’s face was fixed in horror, and he wanted to tell him that he was not to be afraid for no man can die until his right end comes. But since his voice was lost he put out his hand and laid it on the boy’s arm, and so they sat until the waiter came and by motions told them to creep under the table at least, for then the falling tiles would not hurt them. So they crept under the table and crouched there while the waiter came and went about the room, making it neat and ready for the return of those who had gone, and Ling Tan wondered that he could do this, when at any instant the roof might fall and cover him and all the tables with its ruin. And he knew that in spite of all he himself was afraid and he heartily wished himself at home again.
    For now they heard great thunders of noise and having heard and seen the thing that burst in his neighbor’s field Ling Tan knew what was happening. He hid his face not only because he felt his own end near but because he knew that with every burst some died. His eardrums swelled and quivered as he listened and his eyeballs swelled and the breath would not come out of his bosom. He looked at his son and the lad crouched with his head between his legs and his knees pressed against his ears and his arms wrapped about himself.
    So they endured instant by instant and the evil passed over their heads at last and went on and after what seemed like half the day there was silence again until they heard a new noise and now it was fire.
    “Come,” Ling Tan cried to his son, “let us get to our home and out of this place.”
    So he crawled out, and with his son’s hand in his they went out. And yet, when Ling Tan thought of going, how could he leave a fire blazing and remember the screaming of people caught in the ruins, and the weeping of those who saw their homes burned and those they loved dead?
    “No, we must see what can be done,” he told his son. And so against all he knew of old wisdom which bade him leave distress to take care of itself lest he be held responsible for any life saved or lost, he led the way to the fire. Yet what could any mortal do against