So, she was not in the least prepared for Little Pig’s wife screaming at that the Japanese had come. She sat up in bed muttering, “The tea bowls—the tea—“
“Grandmother, there’s no time!” Little Pig’s wife screamed. “They’re here—they’re here!”
“Where?” old Mrs. Wang cried, now awake.
“In the sky!” Little Pig’s wife wailed.
They had all run out, into the clear early dawn, and gazed up. There, like wild geese flying in the autumn, were great birdlike shapes.
“But what are they?” old Mrs. Wang cried.
And then, like a silver egg dropping, something drifted straight down and fell at the far end of the village in a field. A fountain of earth flew up, and they all ran to see it. There was a hole thirty feet across, as big as a pond. They were so surprised that they could not speak. And then, before anybody could say anything, another egg and another began to fall. Everybody began running.