Tu Tzuchun wdre a long breath, and waited for the next terrible thing that might happen to him.
Presently a great gust of wind began to blow, and the clouds, black as ink, shut everything from his view. Dazzling, purple-colored lightning cut the sky asunder, followed by a terrible thunder-storm, but Tu Tzuchun sat still and showed no sign of fear. The wind howled, the rain fell in torrents, the lightning became incessant, and the mountains themselves seemed to shake to their very foundations. All at once a dreadful thunder-bolt, blazing hot, fell from the skies of inkyblack clouds, and struck Tu Tzuchun upon the head.
In spite of himself, he fell flat upon the rock, pressing both his hands to his ears. When he opened his eyes again, the sky was as clear as before, and the great polar star, as big as a cup, was shining above the high mountains across the ravine.
Then, this thunder-storm, too, must have been the evil trick of devils, just as the tiger and the white snake had been. Tu Tzuchun’s heart became calmer, and wiping the cold perspiration from his brow, he again seated himself upon the rock. He sighed, and looked about him.
But while his sigh was still dying on the wind, there appeared in front of him the solemn figure of a great god. He was some 30 feet high, and wore a suit of armour made of pure gold. He held a three-forked spear in his hand, and pointing it at Tu Tzuchun’s breast, he roared in a terrific voice like thunder:
“Hey, there! What are you doing in this part of
