"Chiu Ming!"

Along China's turgid riverbanks gongs were ringing. Their summons brought villagers running through the wet darkness, crying: "Chiu ming! Chiu ming!" (Save life! Save life!). Pale lightning flickered and thunderclaps split the sky as men, women & children labored with spade, hoe and hands to pile even higher the earthen ramparts of the river dikes. Downriver, other watchmen, gongs in hand, their silhouettes reflected by torchlight, anxiously measured the rising flood crest. Then they, too, beat their booming summons in the night.

Two months of steady rains sent, the swollen Min River plunging through Fukien province, drowning a thousand people, flooding 50 towns. A million refugees crowded the highlands, mourning the loss of 80% of Fukien's rice harvest. Tungting Lake overflowed, ruining 50% of Hunan's rice. In Kiangsi Province, 60% of the rice was destroyed; in Kiangsu,

30%.

The dikes of the broad Yangtze still held, but the river had set new high water marks, was still rising. At Ichang, a record 100 ft. of water halted all upriver traffic through the famed gorges leading to Chungking; Hankow's suburbs were awash; Kiukiang's busy wharves lay submerged, and sampans instead of rickshas carried passengers through the streets.

Everywhere bridges slid into the raging torrents, roads melted, walled cities stood isolated, and drenched huddles of refugees dotted the high ground. Hunger was certainly ahead; maybe famine. Nanking officials shook their heads. "This is a bigger defeat," said one, "than any inflicted by the Communists."

In the war-torn Yellow River valley, "China's Sorrow" threatened to burst the dikes held by both armies. The alarmed Red radio mixed propaganda with its pleading: "It is impossible to complete dike repair work because of constant Nationalist raids . . . We request Nationalist troops and air forces to cease their obstruction."

Retorted the Nationalist radio: "Since their occupation of this area, Communists have methodically destroyed dikes. With floods coming they are wildly firing accusations against the Central Government . . . We hope they will show a sense of humanity and withdraw . . . This will permit water conservancy organizations to proceed with their work."

While words and water rose, desperate millions crouched in their rain-soaked, mud-straw huts, listening fearfully for the sound of gongs from the river banks.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.