It was an eventful day in the camp of the Taipings. About noon a horseman came from the Inverted Pan Hill to say that they were crowded out with reinforcements from Hunan, who had retired before Cheng Kwoh-fan's soldiers, to strengthen the hands of their comrades in the more central station. The messenger brought a dispatch from the general to the effect that Captain Li was to move further inland, about half a day's journey, and to construct a camp capable of holding double the number of his own men. They had not yet retaken Hanyang, the messenger added, but were in high hopes of doing so with the aid of this newly-arrived contingent.

All was soon bustle and preparation. Ammunition and stores of rice were carried down to the boats, with Captain Li's pet cannon and various other appurtenances of private or general property. There were no tents to strike, but instead bundles of spades, hatchets, and mattocks, received as tribute from the blacksmiths of Hankow, were carried down the slope to the lake. With these they could construct fresh huts.

“It is time we were out of this lukewarm place,” said the captain at afternoon rice. “Life without fighting is like food cooked without oil and salt.