When noon was passed, allowing such time as would enable him to reach the camp of the enemy an hour before darkness, Ling arranged the bowmen in companies of convenient numbers, and commenced the march, sending forward spies, who were to work silently and bring back tidings from every point.  In this way he penetrated to within a single li of the ruins of Ki, being informed by the spies that no outposts of the enemy were between him and that place.  Here the first rest was made to enable the more accurate and bold spies to reach them with trustworthy information regarding the position and movements of the camp.  With little delay there returned the one who had brought the earliest tidings, bruised and torn with his successful haste through the forest, but wearing a complacent and well-satisfied expression of countenance.  Without hesitation or waiting to demand money before he would reveal his knowledge, he at once disclosed that the greater part of the enemy were rejoicing among the ruins of Ki, they having discovered there a quantity of opium and a variety of liquids, while only a small guard remained in the camp with their weapons ready.  At these words Ling sprang from the ground in gladness, so great was his certainty of destroying the invaders utterly.  It was, however, with less pleasurable emotions that he considered how he should effect the matter, for it was in no way advisable to divide his numbers into two bands.  Without any feeling of unendurable conceit, he understood that no one but himself could hold the bowmen before an assault, however weak.  In a similar manner, he determined that it would be more advisable to attack those in the village first.  These he might have reasonable hopes of cutting down without warning the camp, or, in any event, before those from the camp arrived.  To assail the camp first would assuredly, by the firing, draw upon them those from the village, and in whatever evil state these might arrive, they would, by their numbers, terrify the bowmen, who without doubt would have suffered some loss from the matchlocks.

Waiting for the last light of day, Ling led on the men again, and sending forward some of the most reliable, surrounded the place of the village silently and without detection.  In the open space, among broken casks and other inconsiderable matters, plainly shown by the large fires at which burned the last remains of the houses of Ki, many men moved or lay, some already dull or in heavy sleep.  As the darkness dropped suddenly, the signal of a peacock’s shriek, three times uttered, rang forth, and immediately a cloud of arrows, directed from all sides, poured in among those who feasted.  Seeing their foemen defenceless before them, the archers neglected the orders they had received, and throwing away their bows they rushed in with uplifted clubs, uttering loud shouts of triumph.  The next moment a shot was fired in the wood, drums beat, and in an unbelievably short space of time a small but well-armed band of the enemy was among them.