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In
Pyeng-yang
I
became
a
water-carrier
,
for
know
that
that
old
city
,
whose
walls
were
ancient
even
in
the
time
of
David
,
was
considered
by
the
people
to
be
a
canoe
,
and
that
,
therefore
,
to
sink
a
well
inside
the
walls
would
be
to
scupper
the
city
.
So
all
day
long
thousands
of
coolies
,
water-jars
yoked
to
their
shoulders
,
tramp
out
the
river
gate
and
back
.
I
became
one
of
these
,
until
Chong
Mong-ju
sought
me
out
,
and
I
was
beaten
and
planked
and
set
upon
the
highway
.
Ever
it
was
the
same
.
In
far
Wiju
I
became
a
dog-butcher
,
killing
the
brutes
publicly
before
my
open
stall
,
cutting
and
hanging
the
caresses
for
sale
,
tanning
the
hides
under
the
filth
of
the
feet
of
the
passers-by
by
spreading
the
hides
,
raw-side
up
,
in
the
muck
of
the
street
.
But
Chong
Mong-ju
found
me
out
.
I
was
a
dyer
's
helper
in
Pyonhan
,
a
gold-miner
in
the
placers
of
Kang-wun
,
a
rope-maker
and
twine-twister
in
Chiksan
.
I
plaited
straw
hats
in
Padok
,
gathered
grass
in
Whang-hai
,
and
in
Masenpo
sold
myself
to
a
rice
farmer
to
toil
bent
double
in
the
flooded
paddies
for
less
than
a
coolie
's
pay
.
But
there
was
never
a
time
or
place
that
the
long
arm
of
Chong
Mong-ju
did
not
reach
out
and
punish
and
thrust
me
upon
the
beggar
's
way
.
The
Lady
Om
and
I
searched
two
seasons
and
found
a
single
root
of
the
wild
mountain
ginseng
,
which
is
esteemed
so
rare
and
precious
a
thing
by
the
doctors
that
the
Lady
Om
and
I
could
have
lived
a
year
in
comfort
from
the
sale
of
our
one
root
.
But
in
the
selling
of
it
I
was
apprehended
,
the
root
confiscated
,
and
I
was
better
beaten
and
longer
planked
than
ordinarily
.
Everywhere
the
wandering
members
of
the
great
Peddlers
'
Guild
carried
word
of
me
,
of
my
comings
and
goings
and
doings
,
to
Chong
Mong-ju
at
Keijo
.
Only
twice
,
in
all
the
days
after
my
downfall
,
did
I
meet
Chong
Mong-ju
face
to
face
.
The
first
time
was
a
wild
winter
night
of
storm
in
the
high
mountains
of
Kang-wun
.
A
few
hoarded
coppers
had
bought
for
the
Lady
Om
and
me
sleeping
space
in
the
dirtiest
and
coldest
corner
of
the
one
large
room
of
the
inn
.
We
were
just
about
to
begin
on
our
meagre
supper
of
horse-beans
and
wild
garlic
cooked
into
a
stew
with
a
scrap
of
bullock
that
must
have
died
of
old
age
,
when
there
was
a
tinkling
of
bronze
pony
bells
and
the
stamp
of
hoofs
without
.
The
doors
opened
,
and
entered
Chong
Mong-ju
,
the
personification
of
well-being
,
prosperity
and
power
,
shaking
the
snow
from
his
priceless
Mongolian
furs
.
Place
was
made
for
him
and
his
dozen
retainers
,
and
there
was
room
for
all
without
crowding
,
when
his
eyes
chanced
to
light
on
the
Lady
Om
and
me
.
"
The
vermin
there
in
the
corner
--
clear
it
out
,
"
he
commanded
.
And
his
horse-boys
lashed
us
with
their
whips
and
drove
us
out
into
the
storm
.
But
there
was
to
be
another
meeting
,
after
long
years
,
as
you
shall
see
.
There
was
no
escape
.
Never
was
I
permitted
to
cross
the
northern
frontier
.
Never
was
I
permitted
to
put
foot
to
a
sampan
on
the
sea
.
The
Peddlers
'
Guild
carried
these
commands
of
Chong
Mong-ju
to
every
village
and
every
soul
in
all
Cho-Sen
.
I
was
a
marked
man
.
Lord
,
Lord
,
Cho-Sen
,
I
know
your
every
highway
and
mountain
path
,
all
your
walled
cities
and
the
least
of
your
villages
.
For
two-score
years
I
wandered
and
starved
over
you
,
and
the
Lady
Om
ever
wandered
and
starved
with
me
.
What
we
in
extremity
have
eaten
!
--
Leavings
of
dog
's
flesh
,
putrid
and
unsaleable
,
flung
to
us
by
the
mocking
butchers
;
minari
,
a
water-cress
gathered
from
stagnant
pools
of
slime
;
spoiled
kimchi
that
would
revolt
the
stomachs
of
peasants
and
that
could
be
smelled
a
mile
.
Ay
--
I
have
stolen
bones
from
curs
,
gleaned
the
public
road
for
stray
grains
of
rice
,
robbed
ponies
of
their
steaming
bean-soup
on
frosty
nights
.
