 Moving south, out of poignant history in the dry plateau, into the different world of the Delta, the young traveler came to the brave little railroad which, so resolutely and so long, has run a gauntlet through the persisting little wars which have wounded the countryside. Along the way could be seen the painful wreckage which told of land mines and dynamited tracts. This was the work of the disruptors, the communists and other multicolored insurgents, ruthless men and evil thieves, selfishness which became lawlessness and lawlessness which became a way of life, a more bitter sight. The big pipeline which carried water to the hot city burst by stealthy vandals. The country boy's heart was shocked and sick. Could these be his brothers to do such a thing? Were there wayward members of his family? Could they not understand it was themselves they harmed most of all? This was a thing to ponder solely. In the sunlit forest, to come upon this thing of war was to remember a little of an old and frightening dream, but to wake into a better reality. The rubber forests, so long battlefields and then wastelands were coming back. They could reduce all vermin needed and more and perhaps she could enter the world market again. The young man knew little of these things, but the Ponji had said that the true security and prosperity of his family would come from the land itself. For the Burmese land is rich, but her treasures are not yielded without much hard work by her people. To the young man this seemed entirely just. As a cultivator, he knew hard work as a pattern of existence, an altogether proper pattern. The end of his journey was near. Soon the great capital would be no longer a far away mystery. Surely he could find his family in the city whose very name meant end of strife. There had been a kind of strife this journey toward union with his family. The Ponji had said that no union could be brought about without some strife, but he was not sure he understood. And then one evening at the top of a hill he saw in the misty distance his gold, a golden flame of the Schwedegade, so old and so honored by the prayers of so many centuries of adoring worshippers from the whole world over.