Have you seen a pouring thunderstorm in the hot, dry summer? Just like that--like streams racing down a dusty mountain
side, joining into a seething, bubbling flow--at the first sound of war, uprisings boiled up in the Mountain Bourgeois Land and were echoed by thousands of voices in the Kingdom of the Plains, the Snowy Tsardom, and the Hot and Arid State.
In fear, the defeated Chief Bourgeois fled, loudly cursing this nation with its surprising people, its unconquerable army and its unguessable Military Secret.
The boy Kibalchish was buried on a green hill by the Blue River. And on the grave they planted a large red flag.
Boats sail past--greetings to the Boy!
Planes fly past--greetings to the Boy!
Trains race by--greetings to the Boy!
Pioneers march past--salute to the Boy!