On they came toward the capital without meeting anything but a few skirmishers, until they reached the Sal-su, a stream only thirty _li_ from P’yŭng-yang. Crossing this the Chinese went into camp for a few days to recover from the fatigue of the rapid march before attacking the town. At this point Gen. Eul-ji began operations. He wrote a very humble letter sueing for mercy. When the Chinese general received this, his course of reasoning must have been something as follows: “My forces are completely exhausted by this long march; the provisions are almost gone; I shall find the capital defended by desperate men; it may be that I shall be handled as roughly as were the forces of Gen. Nă. I will accept this submission and start back in time to reach the Yalu before my provisions are entirely gone. I will thus spare my army and gain the desired end as well.” Whether this was his course of reasoning or not, sure it is that he accepted the submission tendered him and put his army in motion toward the Yalu. But before his forces had gone a mile they found themselves attacked on all sides at once by an unseen foe which seemed to fill the forests on either side the road. When half the army had gotten across the Sal-su the other half was fiercely attacked and cut to pieces or driven like dumb cattle over the face of the country, where they were butchered at leisure. The retreat became a flight, the flight a rout, and still the Ko-gu-ryŭ soldiers hung on their flanks like wolves and dragged them down by scores and hundreds. It is said that in a single day and night the fugitive Chinese covered four hundred and fifty _li_, and when the remnant of that noble army of 305,000 men that had swept across the Yalu went back across that historic stream it was just 2700 strong. Over 300,000 men had perished along the hill-sides and among the forests of Ko-gu-ryŭ. The Emperor in anger imprisoned the over-confident Gen. U Chung-mun. Meanwhile what of Păk-je? She had promised that she would rise and strike Ko-gu-ryŭ simultaneously with the Emperor, but when the moment for action came, like the paltroon that she was, she waited to see which side would be most likely to win in the end. When the Chinese fled back to the border in panic Păk-je quietly stacked her arms and said nothing about attacking her neighbor. Winter was now at hand, or would be before another plan could be perfected and carried out. The army was without provisions. There was nothing left but to retreat. The Chinese army, still a mighty host, moved slowly back across the Liao River and Ko-gu-ryŭ was left to her own pleasant musings. All that China gained was that portion of Ko-gu-ryŭ lying west of the Liao River, which the Emperor erected into three prefectures.