The Coreans themselves knew both their forte and their foible, and so understood how to foil the invader from either sea. Shut out from the rival nations on the right hand and on the left by the treacherous sea, buttressed on the north by lofty mountains, and separated from China by a stretch of barren or broken land, the peninsula is easily secure against an invader far from his base of supplies. The ancient policy of the Coreans, by which they over and over again foiled their mighty foe and finally secured their independence, was to shut themselves up in their well-provisioned cities and castles, and not only beat off but starve away their foes. In their state of feudalism, when every city and strategic town of importance was well fortified, this was easily accomplished. The ramparts gave them shelter, and their personal valor secured the rest. Reversing the usual process of starving out a beleaguered garrison, the besiegers, unable to fight on empty stomachs, were at last obliged to raise the siege and go home. Long persistence in this resolute policy finally saved Corea from the Chinese colossus, and preserved her individuality among nations. Faithful to their character, as above set forth, the Koraians held their own in the city of Anchiu, and the Chinese could make no impression upon it. In spite of catapults, scaling ladders, movable towers, and artificial mounds raised higher than the walls, the Koraians held out, and by sorties bravely captured or destroyed the enemy’s works. Not daring to leave such a fortified city in their rear, the Chinese could not advance further, while their failing provisions and the advent of frost showed them that they must retreat. Hungrily they turned their faces toward China. In spite of the intense chagrin of the foiled Chinese leader, so great was his admiration for the valor of the besieged that he sent the Koraian commander a valuable present of rolls of silk. The Koraians were unable to pursue the flying invaders, and few fell by their weapons. But hunger, the fatigue of crossing impassable oceans of worse than Virginia mud, cold winds, and snow storms destroyed thousands of the Chinese on their weary homeward march over the mountain passes and quagmires of Liao Tung. The net results of the campaign were great glory to Korai; and besides the loss of ten cities, 70,000 of her sons were captives in China, and 40,000 lay in battle graves. According to a custom which Californians have learned in our day, the bones of the Chinese soldiers who died or were killed in the campaign were collected, brought into China, and, with due sacrificial rites and lamentations by the emperor, solemnly buried in their native soil. Irregular warfare still continued between the two countries, the offered tribute of Korai being refused, and the emperor waiting until his resources would justify him in sending another vast fleet and army against defiant Korai. While thus waiting he died.