"At every temple they collect rice for Buddha. Many small meals make full belly. But," his face wrinkled with concern, "many thousands could live on what I eat today. China is so poor. So many people, so little food. I must find ways to help them." He paused, and then resumed in a firmer tone.

"But not in communist way. Rau was right about western imperialists, but he named wrong country. Russian imperialists have enslaved China. First we must drive communists from China. Then I can help."

"Amen," said Baker softly. Then, to Kazu....

"We've been trying to do just that for years. But how can you fight seven hundred million people?"

"Don't fight--lead them."

It sounded so simple, the way he said it. Well, maybe he could. But now Baker had more practical questions.

"What does the rest of the world think about all this? Have you talked to any Europeans, or heard a radio?"

Kazu shook his head. "But I caught communist General. He tell me Russia sending army to capture me. He say only hope is for me to surrender, or Russian drop atom bomb on me. Then I eat him."

We must have showed our startled reaction, for Kazu laughed.

"Not much nourishment in communist. I eat him for propaganda--many people see me do it. Effect very good." He paused. "Not tasty, but symbolic meal. China is like Buddha, giant who can eat up enemies."

"What are you going to do next?" asked Baker.

"That is question. I need more information. Where is leadership in China I can trust? What will Russians do? How long for British and Americans to wake up?"

"You're not the only one asking these questions," said Baker. "But maybe you can get some answers."

Before Kazu could continue, Chamberlin held up his hand for silence. We listened, and presently heard above the crackle of the great bonfire, the throb of an airplane engine. Kazu heard it too, for he suddenly arose and stepped back out of the light. We four also hastened into the shadows and peered into the dark sky. The approaching aircraft displayed no lights, but presently we saw it in the firelight--a multi-jet bomber bearing American markings. We rushed back into the illuminated area and danced up and down, waving our arms. The huge plane swung in a wide circle and came in less than five hundred feet above the hilltop. I could make out faces peering down at us from the gla.s.sed greenhouse in front. As it roared past, one wing tipped slightly in the updraft from the fire, and then suddenly the plane stopped dead in its tracks. The jets roared a deeper note as they bit into still air, and then very slowly and gently the great ship moved back and down until it rested on its belly beside our steel box. Not until it was quite safe on the ground did Kazu's hands release their hold on the wings, where he had caught it in midair.

The eleven crew men from the B125 came out with their hands in the air, but their expressions were more incredulous than frightened. Baker added to the unreality of the situation by his greeting, done in the best "Dr.

Livingstone-I-presume" manner.

"Welcome to Camp Yunnan. Sorry we had to be so abrupt. I'm Baker, these are Chamberlin, Martin, Cady."

"I'm Faulkner," replied the leader of the Americans automatically, and then he abruptly sat down and was violently sick. We waited patiently until he could speak again.

"My G.o.d, I didn't believe it when we heard." He was talking to no-one in particular. "One minute we're flying at 450 miles per hour, the next we're picked out of the air like a--like a--"

He gave up. Kazu came into the firelight and squatted down, quite slowly. Baker introduced him.

"Colonel, I'd like you to meet Kazu Takahashi." The American arose and extended his hand, and then dropped it abruptly to his side. Kazu emitted a thunderous chuckle.

"Handshake is, I fear, formality I must always pa.s.s up, even at risk of impoliteness."

I think that the language, and particularly the phrasing, jolted the airmen even more than the actual capture. Colonel Faulkner kept shaking his head and murmuring "My G.o.d!" for several moments, and then pulled himself together. "So the story's really true after all," he finally said. "We got it on the radio day before yesterday at Manila. It was so garbled at first that n.o.body could make any sense. Ships reported thousand foot men wading in the ocean. New Maca.s.sar radio reported that Buddha was reincarnated, and then denied the story. Announcements of a pitched battle at Singapore, and frantic reports from every town on the peninsula. Then a statement by some Lama on Maca.s.sar that the British had kidnaped Buddha, had him hypnotized or doped, and were using him to exterminate China."

He paused and looked up at Kazu, who had bent down until his face was only a hundred feet above us.

"Part of it is true," said Baker. "There was a giant wading in the ocean. As to the rest, I fear we have caught the red radio without a script. I'll tell you the story presently, but just now there are more urgent things to do. Is your radio working?"

Faulkner nodded and led us towards the plane. Baker continued.

"Briefly, Kazu is a mutation produced by the Hiroshima bomb. He's been groomed for twenty years to take over as the world's largest puppet, but it turns out he has a mind of his own. We just happened along, and are going on for the ride. Want to join the party?"

The Colonel grinned for the first time as we all squeezed into the radio compartment of the plane.

"I like travel," he said. "It's so broadening."

The radio was not only operative, but proved most informative as well.

Every transmitter on earth, it seemed, was talking about the giant. In the course of an hour we listened to a dozen major stations and got as many versions of the story. The communist propaganda factory had obviously been caught flat footed, for their broadcasts were a hopeless mixture of releases evidently prepared for the planned introduction of Buddha to the world, and hastily a.s.sembled diatribes against the capitalist imperialists who had so foully captured him. Some of the Russians apparently were not in on the secret of Buddha's dimensions, for they described in detail how a raiding party of eighty American commando-gangsters had landed by parachute on Yat, seized Buddha, and taken him away in a seaplane.

Before we went to sleep that night, Kazu extinguished the fire so that no one else would be attracted as the Colonel had been.

Next morning the first question concerned transportation. Colonel Faulkner naturally did not want to leave his plane, particularly since it was undamaged, but a takeoff from our narrow mountain ledge was obviously impossible, so he regretfully ordered his crew to unload their personal effects for transfer to our box. At this point Kazu stepped in.

"If you will enter your airplane and start jets," he said, "Buddha will serve as launching mechanism."

Before the takeoff, the Colonel transferred his spare radio gear to our box, along with an auxiliary generator, and we agreed on a schedule to keep in touch. Then Kazu gently picked up the bomber, raised it high above his head and sent it gliding off to the north. The engines coughed a couple of times and then caught with a roar. Colonel Faulkner wagged his wings and vanished into the haze.

Our plan was to follow the plane east to the Wu River, and then north to its meeting with the Yangtze, which occurs some seventy five miles below Chungking. While the B125 cruised around us in a great circle, we loaded our belongings into the box, and Kazu picked us up and signalled the plane that we were ready. Colonel Faulkner's intention had been to circle us rather than leave us behind with his superior speed, but in a moment it became clear that this would not be necessary. Kazu set off down the canyon at a pace better than three hundred miles per hour, and the Colonel had to gun his motors to keep up.

We pa.s.sed only a few small towns on the Wu. Kazu had been here before, and had evidently stopped to talk and make friends, for we observed none of the fright which had formerly greeted his advent. Instead, crowds ran out to meet us, waving the forbidden Nationalist flag and shooting off firecrackers. Kazu spoke briefly in Cantonese to each group, and then hurried on. Baker explained that he was giving them formal blessings, in the name of Buddha.

An hour's time brought us to Fowchow, on the mighty Yangtze Kiang. Here Kazu turned left, wading in the stream, and negotiated the seventy odd miles to Chungking in fifteen minutes.

The distance from Chungking to Hankow is somewhat more than five hundred miles. For much of this distance the Yangtze is bounded by mountains and rocky gorges, but in the final 150 miles, the hills drop away and the river winds slowly through China's lake country. Kazu made good time in the gorge, but his feet sank a hundred feet into the soft alluvial soil of the lowlands and he had constantly to watch out for villages and farms.

Buddha had not visited Hankow before, but he was expected. Even before the city came into view, the roads were lined with people and the ca.n.a.ls and lakes jammed with sampans. Just outside of the city we noticed a small group of men in military uniform under a white flag. We guessed that they represented the communist city government, and so did Kazu, for he set our box beside the group and ordered the spokesman to come in for a parlay. The unfortunate officer who was picked obviously did not relish the idea, particularly after Martin cracked in English, "He doesn't look fat enough." Giving Martin a glare, he drew himself up stiffly and said, "General Soo prepared to die, if necessary for people of China."

The communist General showed somewhat less bravado after the stomach turning ascent to the six hundred foot level, but he managed to get off a speech in answer to Kazu's question. As before, Baker gave us a running translation.

"He says welcome to Hankow. The people's government, ever responsive to the will of the citizens, joins with all faithful Buddhists in welcoming Buddha, and in expressing heartfelt thanksgiving that rumors claiming Buddha to be a puppet of western imperialists are all false. Now he's saying that there is to be a big party--a banquet--for Buddha, in the central square. Rice has been collected and cooked, and a thousand sheep slaughtered to feed hungry Buddha."

Kazu replied formally that while he appreciated the hospitality of the people of Hankow, he could not accept food from the enemies of China.

These words, which were clearly audible to the entire city, were greeted with cheers by the throng below. The General took this in, thought about it a moment, and then made a neat about face.

"General Soo," said he stoutly, "was communist when he believed communism only hope for China. You have changed everything. General Soo now faithful Buddhist!"

"May I," said Baker with a grin, "be the first to congratulate General Soo on his perspicacity."

As the General had promised, there was a great banquet spread. In spite of Soo's protestations, Baker insisted on sampling each course rather extensively for sleeping potions or poison, but either the idea had not occurred to the communists, or there hadn't been enough time, or poison available.

For the most part the civil government of Hankow joined with General Soo in a loudly declared conversion to Buddhism without communist trappings.

In spite of Baker's skepticism, I believed that most of them were quite sincere. At least, they sincerely wanted to be on the side with the most power, and for the time being at least, Kazu seemed an easy winner.