A rebel on horseback, though a young one, was sufficient to strike terror to the hearts of the country folk. And soon a chorus of voices was heard before and behind him, shouting the once familiar cry, “The Longhaired are coming!” a cry which carried with it no merely subjective terror as the months went by. The Taipings were degenerating. Was it that, being everywhere “resisted,” they everywhere sought revenge? Or was it from the fact that their ranks were being swelled by the members of secret societies and rascals generally? Perhaps from both causes. There were few men of the Captain Li stamp in command. And with his death, Seng-teh's sole reason for attachment to their ranks had ceased. How many an ardent votary of a “cause” is but attached to a particular man therein! The “cause” is often the man. The Taipings, to Seng-teh, had meant Captain Li. Now they were almost the “Longhaired” again. At anyrate, for personal safety, he must throw away his yellow coat. Reaching a quiet spot, he dismounted, took a large stone, wrapped it up in his jacket, and threw it into a pond hard by. He then did up his hair at the back of the head, so as more to resemble the country folk.