Hong Kil Tong

HONG KIL TONG; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF AN ABUSED BOY. During the reign of the third king in Korea there lived a noble of high

rank and noted family, by name Hong. His title was Ye Cho Pansa. He

had two sons by his wife and one by one of his concubines. The latter

son was very remarkable from his birth to his death, and he it is

who forms the subject of this history.

When Hong Pansa was the father of but two sons, he dreamed by night

on one occasion that he heard the noise of thunder, and looking up he

saw a huge dragon entering his apartment, which seemed too small to

contain the whole of his enormous body. The dream was so startling as

to awaken the sleeper, who at once saw that it was a good omen, and a

token to him of a blessing about to be conferred. He hoped the blessing

might prove to be another son, and went to impart the good news to

his wife. She would not see him, however, as she was offended by his

taking a concubine from the class of "dancing girls." The great man

was sad, and went away. Within the year, however, a son of marvellous

beauty was born to one concubine, much to the annoyance of his wife

and to himself, for he would have been glad to have the beautiful

boy a full son, and eligible to office. The child was named Kil Tong,

or Hong Kil Tong. He grew fast, and became more and more beautiful. He

learned rapidly, and surprised every one by his remarkable ability. As

he grew up he rebelled at being placed with the slaves, and at not

being allowed to call his parent, father. The other children laughed

and jeered at him, and made life very miserable. He refused longer to

study of the duties of children to their parents. He upset his table in

school, and declared he was going to be a soldier. One bright moonlight

night Hong Pansa saw his son in the court-yard practising the arts of

the soldier, and he asked him what it meant. Kil Tong answered that

he was fitting himself to become a man that people should respect and

fear. He said he knew that heaven had made all things for the use of

men, if they found themselves capable of using them, and that the laws

of men were only made to assist a few that could not otherwise do as

they would; but that he was not inclined to submit to any such tyranny,

but would become a great man in spite of his evil surroundings. "This

is a most remarkable boy," mused Hong Pansa. "What a pity that he is

not my proper and legitimate son, that he might be an honor to my

name. As it is, I fear he will cause me serious trouble." He urged

the boy to go to bed and sleep, but Kil Tong said it was useless,

that if he went to bed he would think of his troubles till the tears

washed sleep away from his eyes, and caused him to get up.

The wife of Hong Pansa and his other concubine (the dancing girl),

seeing how much their lord and master thought of Kil Tong, grew to hate

the latter intensely, and began to lay plans for ridding themselves

of him. They called some mootang, or sorceresses, and explained to

them that their happiness was disturbed by this son of a rival, and

that peace could only be restored to their hearts by the death of

this youth. The witches laughed and said: "Never mind. There is an

old woman who lives by the east gate, tell her to come and prejudice

the father. She can do it, and he will then look after his son."

The old hag came as requested. Hong Pansa was then in the women's

apartments, telling them of the wonderful boy, much to their

annoyance. A visitor was announced, and the old woman made a low

bow outside. Hong Pansa asked her what her business was, and she

stated that she had heard of his wonderful son, and came to see him,

to foretell what his future was to be.

Kil Tong came as called, and on seeing him the hag bowed and said:

"Send out all of the people." She then stated: "This will be a

very great man; if not a king, he will be greater than the king,

and will avenge his early wrongs by killing all his family." At this

the father called to her to stop, and enjoined strict secrecy upon

her. He sent Kil Tong at once to a strong room, and had him locked

in for safe keeping.

The boy was very sad at this new state of affairs, but as his father

let him have books, he got down to hard study, and learned the Chinese

works on astronomy. He could not see his mother, and his unnatural

father was too afraid to come near him. He made up his mind, however,

that as soon as he could get out he would go to some far off country,

where he was not known, and make his true power felt.

Meanwhile, the unnatural father was kept in a state of continual

excitement by his wicked concubine, who was bent on the destruction

of the son of her rival, and kept constantly before her master the

great dangers that would come to him from being the parent of such a

man as Kil Tong was destined to be, if allowed to live. She showed him

that such power as the boy was destined to possess, would eventually

result in his overthrowal, and with him his father's house would be

in disgrace, and, doubtless, would be abolished. While if this did

not happen, the son was sure to kill his family, so that, in either

case, it was the father's clear duty to prevent any further trouble

by putting the boy out of the way. Hong Pansa was finally persuaded

that his concubine was right, and sent for the assassins to come and

kill his son. But a spirit filled the father with disease, and he

told the men to stay their work. Medicines failed to cure the disease,

and the mootang women were called in by the concubine. They beat their

drums and danced about the room, conjuring the spirit to leave, but it

would not obey. At last they said, at the suggestion of the concubine,

that Kil Tong was the cause of the disorder, and that with his death

the spirit would cease troubling the father.

Again the assassins were sent for, and came with their swords,

accompanied by the old hag from the east gate. While they were

meditating on the death of Kil Tong, he was musing on the unjust

laws of men who allowed sons to be born of concubines, but denied

them rights that were enjoyed by other men.

While thus musing in the darkness of the night, he heard a crow

caw three times and fly away. "This means something ill to me,"

thought he; and just then his window was thrown open, and in stepped

the assassins. They made at the boy, but he was not there. In their

rage they wounded each other, and killed the old woman who was their

guide. To their amazement the room had disappeared, and they were

surrounded by high mountains. A mighty storm arose, and rocks flew

through the air. They could not escape, and, in their terror, were

about to give up, when music was heard, and a boy came riding by on

a donkey, playing a flute. He took away their weapons, and showed

himself to be Kil Tong. He promised not to kill them, as they begged

for their lives, but only on condition that they should never try to

kill another man. He told them that he would know if the promise was

broken, and, in that event, he would instantly kill them.

Kil Tong went by night to see his father, who thought him a spirit,

and was very much afraid. He gave his father medicine, which instantly

cured him; and sending for his mother, bade her good-by, and started

for an unknown country.

His father was very glad that the boy had escaped, and lost his

affection for his wicked concubine. But the latter, with her mistress,

was very angry, and tried in vain to devise some means to accomplish

their evil purposes.

Kil Tong, free at last, journeyed to the south, and began to ascend

the lonely mountains. Tigers were abundant, but he feared them not,

and they seemed to avoid molesting him. After many days, he found

himself high up on a barren peak enveloped by the clouds, and enjoyed

the remoteness of the place, and the absence of men and obnoxious

laws. He now felt himself a free man, and the equal of any, while

he knew that heaven was smiling upon him and giving him powers not

accorded to other men.

Through the clouds at some distance he thought he espied a huge

stone door in the bare wall of rock. Going up to it, he found it to

be indeed a movable door, and, opening it, he stepped inside, when,

to his amazement, he found himself in an open plain, surrounded by

high and inaccessible mountains. He saw before him over two hundred

good houses, and many men, who, when they had somewhat recovered

from their own surprise, came rushing upon him, apparently with evil

intent. Laying hold upon him they asked him who he was, and why he

came trespassing upon their ground. He said: "I am surprised to find

myself in the presence of men. I am but the son of a concubine, and

men, with their laws, are obnoxious to me. Therefore, I thought to

get away from man entirely, and, for that reason, I wandered alone

into these wild regions. But who are you, and why do you live in this

lone spot? Perhaps we may have a kindred feeling."

"We are called thieves," was answered; "but we only despoil the hated

official class of some of their ill-gotten gains. We are willing to

help the poor unbeknown, but no man can enter our stronghold and depart

alive, unless he has become one of us. To do so, however, he must prove

himself to be strong in body and mind. If you can pass the examination

and wish to join our party, well and good; otherwise you die."

This suited Kil Tong immensely, and he consented to the

conditions. They gave him various trials of strength, but he chose his

own. Going up to a huge rock on which several men were seated, he laid

hold of it and hurled it to some distance, to the dismay of the men,

who fell from their seat, and to the surprised delight of all. He was

at once installed a member, and a feast was ordered. The contract

was sealed by mingling blood from the lips of all the members with

blood similarly supplied by Kil Tong. He was then given a prominent

seat and served to wine and food.

Kil Tong soon became desirous of giving to his comrades some

manifestation of his courage. An opportunity presently offered. He

heard the men bemoaning their inability to despoil a large and strong

Buddhist temple not far distant. As was the rule, this temple in the

mountains was well patronized by officials, who made it a place of

retirement for pleasure and debauch, and in return the lazy, licentious

priests were allowed to collect tribute from the poor people about,

till they had become rich and powerful. The several attempts made

by the robber band had proved unsuccessful, by virtue of the number

and vigilance of the priests, together with the strength of their

enclosure. Kil Tong agreed to assist them to accomplish their design

or perish in the attempt, and such was their faith in him that they

readily agreed to his plans.

On a given day Kil Tong, dressed in the red gown of a youth, just

betrothed, covered himself with the dust of travel, and mounted on a

donkey, with one robber disguised as a servant, made his way to the

temple. He asked on arrival to be shown to the head priest, to whom

he stated that he was the son of Hong Pansa, that his noble father

having heard of the greatness of this temple, and the wisdom of its

many priests, had decided to send him with a letter, which he produced,

to be educated among their numbers. He also stated that a train of one

hundred ponies loaded with rice had been sent as a present from his

father to the priest, and he expected they would arrive before dark,

as they did not wish to stop alone in the mountains, even though

every pony was attended by a groom, who was armed for defense. The

priests were delighted, and having read the letter, they never for

a moment suspected that all was not right. A great feast was ordered

in honor of their noble scholar, and all sat down before the tables,

which were filled so high that one could hardly see his neighbor on the

opposite side. They had scarcely seated themselves and indulged in the

generous wine, when it was announced that the train of ponies laden

with rice had arrived. Servants were sent to look after the tribute,

and the eating and drinking went on. Suddenly Kil Tong clapped his

hand, over his cheek with a cry of pain, which drew the attention of

all. When, to the great mortification of the priests, he produced from

his mouth a pebble, previously introduced on the sly, and exclaimed:

"Is it to feed on stones that my father sent me to this place? What

do you mean by setting such rice before a gentleman?"

The priests were filled with mortification and dismay, and bowed

their shaven heads to the floor in humiliation. When at a sign from

Kil Tong, a portion of the robbers, who had entered the court as

grooms to the ponies, seized the bending priests and bound them as

they were. The latter shouted for help, but the other robbers, who

had been concealed in the bags, which were supposed to contain rice,

seized the servants, while others were loading the ponies with jewels,

rice, cash and whatever of value they could lay hands upon.

An old priest who was attending to the fires, seeing the uproar,

made off quietly to the yamen near by and called for soldiers. The

soldiers were sent after some delay, and Kil Tong, disguised as

a priest, called to them to follow him down a by-path after the

robbers. While he conveyed the soldiers over this rough path,

the robbers made good their escape by the main road, and were soon

joined in their stronghold by their youthful leader, who had left the

soldiers groping helplessly in the dark among the rocks and trees in

a direction opposite that taken by the robbers.

The priests soon found out that they had lost almost all their riches,

and were at no loss in determining how the skilful affair had been

planned and carried out. Kil Tong's name was noised abroad, and it

was soon known that he was heading a band of robbers, who, through

his assistance, were able to do many marvellous things. The robber

band were delighted at the success of his first undertaking, and made

him their chief, with the consent of all. After sufficient time had

elapsed for the full enjoyment of their last and greatest success,

Kil Tong planned a new raid.

The Governor of a neighboring province was noted for his overbearing

ways and the heavy burdens that he laid upon his subjects. He was

very rich, but universally hated, and Kil Tong decided to avenge the

people and humiliate the Governor, knowing that his work would be

appreciated by the people, as were indeed his acts at the temple. He

instructed his band to proceed singly to the Governor's city--the

local capital--at the time of a fair, when their coming would not

cause comment. At a given time a portion of them were to set fire

to a lot of straw-thatched huts outside the city gates, while the

others repaired in a body to the Governor's yamen. They did so. The

Governor was borne in his chair to a place where he could witness the

conflagration, which also drew away the most of the inhabitants. The

robbers bound the remaining servants, and while some were securing

money, jewels, and weapons, Kil Tong wrote on the walls: "The wicked

Governor that robs the people is relieved of his ill-gotten gains by

Kil Tong--the people's avenger."

Again the thieves made good their escape, and Kil Tong's name

became known everywhere. The Governor offered a great reward for his

capture, but no one seemed desirous of encountering a robber of such

boldness. At last the King offered a reward after consulting with his

officers. When one of them said he would capture the thief alone,

the King was astonished at his boldness and courage, and bade him

be off and make the attempt. The officer was called the Pochang;

he had charge of the prisons, and was a man of great courage.

The Pochang started on his search, disguised as a traveller. He took

a donkey and servant, and after travelling many days he put up at

a little inn, at the same time that another man on a donkey rode

up. The latter was Kil Tong in disguise, and he soon entered into

conversation with the man, whose mission was known to him.

"I goo," said Kil Tong, as he sat down to eat, "this is a dangerous

country. I have just been chased by the robber Kil Tong till the life

is about gone out of me."

"Kil Tong, did you say?" remarked Pochang. "I wish he would chase

me. I am anxious to see the man of whom we hear so much."

"Well, if you see him once you will be satisfied," replied Kil Tong.

"Why?" asked the Pochang. "Is he such a fearful-looking man as to

frighten one by his aspect alone?"

"No; on the contrary he looks much as do ordinary mortals. But we

know he is different, you see."

"Exactly," said the Pochang. "That is just the trouble. You are

afraid of him before you see him. Just let me get a glimpse of him,

and matters will be different, I think."

"Well," said Kil Tong, "you can be easily pleased, if that is all,

for I dare say if you go back into the mountains here you will see him,

and get acquainted with him too."

"That is good. Will you show me the place?"

"Not I. I have seen enough of him to please me. I can tell you where

to go, however, if you persist in your curiosity," said the robber.

"Agreed!" exclaimed the officer. "Let us be off at once lest he

escapes. And if you succeed in showing him to me, I will reward you

for your work and protect you from the thief."

After some objection by Kil Tong, who appeared to be reluctant to

go, and insisted on at least finishing his dinner, they started

off, with their servants, into the mountains. Night overtook them,

much to the apparent dismay of the guide, who pretended to be very

anxious to give up the quest. At length, however, they came to the

stone door, which was open. Having entered the robber's stronghold,

the door closed behind them, and the guide disappeared, leaving the

dismayed officer surrounded by the thieves. His courage had now left

him, and he regretted his rashness. The robbers bound him securely

and led him past their miniature city into an enclosure surrounded

by houses which, by their bright colors, seemed to be the abode of

royalty. He was conveyed into a large audience-chamber occupying the

most extensive building of the collection, and there, on a sort of

throne, in royal style, sat his guide. The Pochang saw his mistake,

and fell on his face, begging for mercy. Kil Tong upbraided him

for his impudence and arrogance and promised to let him off this

time. Wine was brought, and all partook of it. That given to the

officer was drugged, and he fell into a stupor soon after drinking

it. While in this condition he was put into a bag and conveyed in a

marvellous manner to a high mountain overlooking the capital. Here

he found himself upon recovering from the effects of his potion;

and not daring to face his sovereign with such a fabulous tale, he

cast himself down from the high mountain, and was picked up dead, by

passers-by, in the morning. Almost at the same time that His Majesty

received word of the death of his officer, and was marvelling at the

audacity of the murderer in bringing the body almost to the palace

doors, came simultaneous reports of great depredations in each of the

eight provinces. The trouble was in each case attributed to Kil Tong,

and the fact that he was reported as being in eight far removed places

at the same time caused great consternation.

Official orders were issued to each of the eight governors to catch

and bring to the city, at once, the robber Kil Tong. These orders were

so well obeyed that upon a certain day soon after, a guard came from

each province bringing Kil Tong, and there in a line stood eight men

alike in every respect.

The King on inquiry found that Kil Tong was the son of Hong Pansa,

and the father was ordered into the royal presence. He came with his

legitimate son, and bowed his head in shame to the ground. When asked

what he meant by having a son who would cause such general misery

and distress, he swooned away, and would have died had not one of the

Kil Tongs produced some medicine which cured him. The son, however,

acted as spokesman, and informed the King that Kil Tong was but the

son of his father's slave, that he was utterly incorrigible, and had

fled from home when a mere boy. When asked to decide as to which was

his true son, the father stated that his son had a scar on the left

thigh. Instantly each of the eight men pulled up the baggy trousers and

displayed a scar. The guard was commanded to remove the men and kill

all of them; but when they attempted to do so the life had disappeared,

and the men were found to be only figures in straw and wax.

Soon after this a letter was seen posted on the Palace gate, announcing

that if the government would confer upon Kil Tong the rank of Pansa,

as held by his father, and thus remove from him the stigma attaching

to him as the son of a slave, he would stop his depredations. This

proposition could not be entertained at first, but one of the counsel

suggested that it might offer a solution of the vexed question, and

they could yet be spared the disgrace of having an officer with such

a record. For, as he proposed, men could be so stationed that when

the newly-appointed officer came to make his bow before His Majesty,

they could fall upon him and kill him before he arose. This plan

was greeted with applause, and a decree was issued conferring the

desired rank; proclamations to that effect being posted in public

places, so that the news would reach Kil Tong. It did reach him,

and he soon appeared at the city gate. A great crowd attended him

as he rode to the Palace gates; but knowing the plans laid for him,

as he passed through the gates and came near enough to be seen of the

King, he was caught up in a cloud and borne away amid strange music;

wholly discomfiting his enemies.

Some time after this occurrence the King was walking with a few eunuchs

and attendants in the royal gardens. It was evening time, but the full

moon furnished ample light. The atmosphere was tempered just to suit;

it was neither cold nor warm, while it lacked nothing of the bracing

character of a Korean autumn. The leaves were blood-red on the maples;

the heavy cloak of climbing vines that enshrouded the great wall near

by was also beautifully colored. These effects could even be seen

by the bright moonlight, and seated on a hill-side the royal party

were enjoying the tranquillity of the scene, when all were astonished

by the sound of a flute played by some one up above them. Looking up

among the tree-tops a man was seen descending toward them, seated upon

the back of a gracefully moving stork. The King imagined it must be

some heavenly being, and ordered the chief eunuch to make some proper

salutation. But before this could be done, a voice was heard saying:

"Fear not, O King. I am simply Hong Pansa [Kil Tong's new title]. I

have come to make my obeisance before your august presence and be

confirmed in my rank."

This he did, and no one attempted to molest him; seeing which, the

King, feeling that it was useless longer to attempt to destroy a man

who could read the unspoken thoughts of men, said:

"Why do you persist in troubling the country? I have removed from

you now the stigma attached to your birth. What more will you have?"

"I wish," said Kil Tong, with due humility, "to go to a distant land,

and settle down to the pursuit of peace and happiness. If I may be

granted three thousand bags of rice I will gladly go and trouble you

no longer."

"But how will you transport such an enormous quantity of rice?" asked

the King.

"That can be arranged," said Kil Tong. "If I may be but granted the

order, I will remove the rice at daybreak."

The order was given. Kil Tong went away as he came, and in the early

morning a fleet of junks appeared off the royal granaries, took on

the rice, and made away before the people were well aware of their

presence.

Kil Tong now sailed for an island off the west coast. He found one

uninhabited, and with his few followers he stored his riches, and

brought many articles of value from his former hiding-places. His

people he taught to till the soil, and all went well on the little

island till the master made a trip to a neighboring island, which was

famous for its deadly mineral poison,--a thing much prized for tipping

the arrows with. Kil Tong wanted to get some of this poison, and made

a visit to the island. While passing through the settled districts he

casually noticed that many copies of a proclamation were posted up,

offering a large reward to any one who would succeed in restoring

to her father a young lady who had been stolen by a band of savage

people who lived in the mountains.

Kil Tong journeyed on all day, and at night he found himself high up

in the wild mountain regions, where the poison was abundant. Gazing

about in making some preparations for passing the night in this place,

he saw a light, and following it, he came to a house built below him

on a ledge of rocks, and in an almost inaccessible position. He could

see the interior of a large hall, where were gathered many hairy,

shaggy-looking men, eating, drinking, and smoking. One old fellow, who

seemed to be chief, was tormenting a young lady by trying to tear away

her veil and expose her to the gaze of the barbarians assembled. Kil

Tong could not stand this sight, and, taking a poisoned arrow,

he sent it direct for the heart of the villain, but the distance

was so great that he missed his mark sufficiently to only wound the

arm. All were amazed, and in the confusion the girl escaped, and Kil

Tong concealed himself for the night. He was seen next day by some

of the savage band, who caught him, and demanded who he was and why

he was found in the mountains. He answered that he was a physician,

and had come up there to collect a certain rare medicine only known

to exist in those mountains.

The robbers seemed rejoiced, and explained that their chief had been

wounded by an arrow from the clouds, and asked him if he could cure

him. Kil Tong was taken in and allowed to examine the chief, when he

agreed to cure him within three days. Hastily mixing up some of the

fresh poison, he put it into the wound, and the chief died almost at

once. Great was the uproar when the death became known. All rushed at

the doctor, and would have killed him, but Kil Tong, finding his own

powers inadequate, summoned to his aid his old friends the spirits

(quay sin), and swords flashed in the air, striking off heads at

every blow, and not ceasing till the whole band lay weltering in

their own blood.

Bursting open a door, Kil Tong saw two women sitting with covered

faces, and supposing them to be of the same strange people, he was

about to dispatch them on the spot, when one of them threw aside her

veil and implored for mercy. Then it was that Kil Tong recognized the

maiden whom he had rescued the previous evening. She was marvellously

beautiful, and already he was deeply smitten with her maidenly

charms. Her voice seemed like that of an angel of peace sent to quiet

the hearts of rough men. As she modestly begged for her life, she told

the story of her capture by the robbers, and how she had been dragged

away to their den, and was only saved from insult by the interposition

of some heavenly being, who had in pity smote the arm of her tormentor.

Great was Kil Tong's joy at being able to explain his own part in the

matter, and the maiden heart, already won by the manly beauty of her

rescuer, now overflowed with gratitude and love. Remembering herself,

however, she quickly veiled her face, but the mischief had been done;

each had seen the other, and they could henceforth know no peace,

except in each other's presence.

The proclamations had made but little impression upon Kil Tong,

and it was not till the lady had told her story that he remembered

reading them. He at once took steps to remove the beautiful girl

and her companion in distress, and not knowing but that other of the

savages might return, he did not dare to make search for a chair and

bearers, but mounting donkeys the little party set out for the home

of the distressed parents, which they reached safely in due time. The

father's delight knew no bounds. He was a subject of Korea's King, yet

he possessed this island and ruled its people in his own right. And

calling his subjects, he explained to them publicly the wonderful

works of the stranger, to whom he betrothed his daughter, and to whom

he gave his official position.

The people indulged in all manner of gay festivities in honor of the

return of the lost daughter of their chief; in respect to the bravery

of Kil Tong; and to celebrate his advent as their ruler.

In due season the marriage ceremonies were celebrated, and the

impatient lovers were given to each other's embrace. Their lives

were full of happiness and prosperity. Other outlying islands were

united under Kil Tong's rule, and no desire or ambition remained

ungratified. Yet there came a time when the husband grew sad, and

tears swelled the heart of the young wife as she tried in vain to

comfort him. He explained at last that he had a presentiment that his

father was either dead or dying, and that it was his duty to go and

mourn at the grave. With anguish at the thought of parting, the wife

urged him to go. Taking a junk laden with handsome marble slabs for

the grave and statuary to surround it, and followed by junks bearing

three thousand bags of rice, he set out for the capital. Arriving,

he cut off his hair, and repaired to his old home, where a servant

admitted him on the supposition that he was a priest. He found his

father was no more; but the body yet remained, because a suitable

place could not be found for the burial. Thinking him to be a priest,

Kil Tong was allowed to select the spot, and the burial took place

with due ceremony. Then it was that the son revealed himself, and

took his place with the mourners. The stone images and monuments

were erected upon the nicely sodded grounds. Kil Tong sent the rice

he had brought, to the government granaries in return for the King's

loan to him, and regretted that mourning would prevent his paying his

respects to his King; he set out for his home with his true mother

and his father's legal wife. The latter did not survive long after

the death of her husband, but the poor slave-mother of the bright

boy was spared many years to enjoy the peace and quiet of her son's

bright home, and to be ministered to by her dutiful, loving children

and their numerous offspring.

THE END.