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 earth. But Chai Mi—sewed. "You cannot go, Thousand Pieces of Gold," they told her. "You have done more than well in discovering the danger, but you cannot fight." So Chai Mi sat beside the river and sewed and wept, while the sound of drums grew fainter and fainter.

Then there was silence. Shen Su City was peopled only by women. Not only the women wept, but the skies. For three days it rained without ceasing and the river Lan became fat with much water; too large for its bed. It rose above its banks and there was no crossing. Its voice was loud, threatening—the voice of Yu Shih, master of waters, shouting defiance.

Down to the river by cover of night hurried a silent army. At the water's edge it halted. No mortal man could dare that snarling current and live. No soldier with spear and shield could hope to swim such a maddened torrent. And boats, there were none—Yu Shih had torn them from their ropes, had carried them down to the sea. The army