“Well,” he said, “let’s see. Look at the blessings you have brought us from the West. Those lovely inventions that chop down, split and cut poor willows in pieces. These are your beautiful ideas. The most sacred things are only legends to you.” “Fiam, I am....” “You—you are a stupid....” “Ah, thank you.” He couldn’t make me angry with his insults, for after all I thought he was quite right. Some minutes passed in silence, then Fiam went on: “But it doesn’t matter. I love him just the same. It isn’t his fault that he denies me. To me he is still the Funato that I protected as if he were my son, and I promise you I shall never fail to guard, defend, and save him, even if it takes my life.” “But what can you do, poor Fiam?” I asked, much interested. “Ah, who knows? who knows?” and he sighed sadly. [Illustration: I Am Entrusted With a Delicate Mission] CHAPTER XVIII I AM ENTRUSTED WITH A DELICATE MISSION Although the fortunes of war turned out for the benefit of Japan in general, this was not the case with the troops among which I found myself. When I had seen the general studying the map so intently I had concluded that he had good reason to be so serious. Frankly, I understood very little of what was going on, but Fiam knew all about it perfectly, and he didn’t always explain it to me, because he said it was dangerous to tell everything to foreigners by the Haji of the wire. But I felt from his looks that important events were taking place. He was restless. He seemed to be cherishing a secret sorrow. During the fighting, while he watched from my hat, he was beside himself with excitement and ran around the brim crying: “No, no! The great thunder to the right, the little thunder to the center! Quick! Whatever are they doing! To the right, I said. Stop! It is a mistake.” But he wouldn’t tell me of what error he was speaking. To me it seemed as if things might be going very well. The enemy was withdrawing into a mountainous region, and we followed them without hindrance. What more could be desired? The mountains grew nearer and nearer. As we approached them we came to a deep valley, long and dark, which from a distance could be seen swarming with the enemy in the midst of clouds of dust raised by the cannon, by the baggage and the columns of marching soldiers. One evening, after Fiam had been shouting “Halt!” from every side of my hat, he said to me: “Listen. I will tell you an important secret. If we enter that valley we are lost.” “Truly,” I observed doubtingly. “Immediately. This whole division of our army would be captured. You must run to the general and tell him to halt here and take the road toward the right.” “How shall I do it? He wouldn’t listen to me.” “Try it.” “Shall I say that you sent me?” “No, he wouldn’t believe it. Tell him that you have explored and are persuaded. Do try.”