soldier. In that manner, to all appearance, he doubled his army. Forthwith, he wrote a letter demanding surrender—pointing out that since his army was so much larger than Chin Pa's, to fight would be a useless sacrifice.
Prince Chin took long to decide upon his course. So long it took him that Han grew impatient and sat down to write again. While he wrote, a strong wind broke upon the camp. The papers on Han's table were lifted high in air. Higher and higher they swirled, higher than an eagle—for the Shen of Storms to read. Han's golden knife, resting on a paper, was lifted by the wind, transported far over the foeman's camp.
Immediately an idea seethed in the leader's mind. If a small piece of paper could carry a knife, might not a large piece carry the knife's owner? Especially, when that owner happened to be not much more weighty than a three-day bean cake? It seemed reasonable. Again the little general took spears from his soldiers. The iron points were removed and the long bamboo shafts were bound together in a frame. Over the frame was fastened
