He turned back and passed three other days hiding; then he tried to go out a second time—a great rock fell in front of him, blocked the road and stopped his passage. “Heaven wills that I stay here still longer,” said Temudjin. He went back and spent three other days on the mountain, nine days in all without eating. “Must I die here alone and unheard of?” thought he despairingly. “Better go at all hazards.” He cut a way near the rock and led his horse down the mountain side. The Taidjuts, who were watching outside very carefully, seized Temudjin and took him to Targutai, who commanded that a kang be put on him, and also fetters, and that he live one day and night in each tent. So he passed from one family to another in succession. During these changes he gained the close friendship of one Sorgan Shira, and of an old woman. The old woman was kind and put rags on the kang at the points where his shoulders were galled by it. Once the Taidjuts made a feast near the Onon and went home after sunset, appointing a boy to watch over the captive. Temudjin had been able to break his own fetters, and seeing that all had gone home felled the boy with the kang in which his own head and both hands were fastened. Then he ran to a forest along the Onon and lay down there, but, fearing lest they might find him, he rose, hurried on to the river and sank in it, leaving only his face above water. The boy soon recovered and screamed that the captive had fled from him. Some Taidjuts rushed quickly together on hearing him, and searched around everywhere. There was moonlight that evening and Sorgan Shira of the Sulduts, who was searching with others, and had gone quite a distance ahead, found Temudjin, but did not call out. “The Taidjuts hate thee because thou hast wisdom,” said he to the captive, “thou wilt die if they find thee. Stay where thou art for the present, and be careful, I will not betray thee to any one.” The pursuers went some distance while searching. “This man escaped during daylight,” said Sorgan Shira, when he overtook them. “It is night now and difficult to find him. Better search nearer places, we can hunt here to-morrow. He has not come thus far,—how could he run such a distance with a kang on his shoulders?” On the way back Sorgan Shira went to Temudjin a second time. “We shall come hither to-morrow to search for thee,” said he. “Hurry off now to thy mother and brothers. Shouldst thou meet any man tell him not that I saw thee.” When Sorgan Shira had gone, Temudjin fell to thinking and thought in this manner: “While stopping at each tent I passed a day with Sorgan Shira; Chila and Chinbo his sons showed me pity. They took off the kang in the dark from my shoulders and let me lie down then in freedom. He saw me to-day, I cannot escape till this kang is taken off, he will do that, I will go to him. He will save me.”