and women, and that of the dead he left behind no estimate was ever made. When the emperor heard of this, even his fierce heart was touched, and the next year, 1255, he recalled the monster. The latter obeyed but on his way north he built fortified camps along the way, for future use. In spite of the thanks which the Koryŭ king sent to the emperor for this deliverance, the latter allowed this same general to come back with a powerful force, and accompanied by the same former envoy, Sun, who had married the Mongol princess. The king had to go out and meet them and waste his remaining treasure in useless presents. So thoroughly was his exchequer depleted that his own table was but ill supplied. The two countries were now nominally at peace, but as Gen. Cha seemed bent on fighting, there seemed to be nothing to do but to fight. Some of his soldiers were roughly handled at Chung-ju where a thousand were killed. Again in the east a large detachment of his troops were heavily defeated. At last Gen. Cha came, in his sanguinary wanderings, to the vicinity of Kang-wha and displayed his banners in sight of that island, to the great uneasiness of its occupants. Sun, the renegade, was now a Mongol general and was as bitter against Koryŭ; as any of the northern savages. The king, in despair, sent Kim Su-gan to the emperor to make a last appeal to his clemency, but the emperor replied “I cannot recall my troops, for your king will not come out from his retreat”. To this the envoy made the beautiful reply, “The frightened quarry will not come forth from its hole till the hunter has departed. The flower cannot spring from the frozen sod”. Upon hearing this the emperor immediately gave orders for the recall of the ruthless Gen. Cha.