NCERT Textbook - The Enemy | English Class 12 PDF Download

 Page 1


24 Vistas
4 4 4 4 4
The Enemy
Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck
Before you Read
It is the time of the World War. An American prisoner of
war is washed ashore in a dying state and is found at the
doorstep of a Japanese doctor. Should he save him as a doctor
or hand him over to the Army as a patriot?
Dr Sadao Hoki’s house was built on a
spot of the Japanese coast where as a
little boy he had often played. The low,
square stone house was set upon rocks
well above a narrow beach that was
outlined with bent pines. As a boy Sadao
had climbed the pines, supporting
himself on his bare feet, as he had seen
men do in the South Seas when they
climbed for coconuts. His father had
taken him often to the islands of those
seas, and never had he failed to say to the little brave boy
at his side, ‘‘Those islands yonder, they are the stepping
stones to the future for Japan.’’
‘‘Where shall we step from them?’’ Sadao had asked
seriously.
‘‘Who knows?’’ his father had answered. ‘‘Who can limit
our future? It depends on what we make it.’’
Who was
Dr Sadao?
Where was his
house?
Reprint 2024-25
Page 2


24 Vistas
4 4 4 4 4
The Enemy
Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck
Before you Read
It is the time of the World War. An American prisoner of
war is washed ashore in a dying state and is found at the
doorstep of a Japanese doctor. Should he save him as a doctor
or hand him over to the Army as a patriot?
Dr Sadao Hoki’s house was built on a
spot of the Japanese coast where as a
little boy he had often played. The low,
square stone house was set upon rocks
well above a narrow beach that was
outlined with bent pines. As a boy Sadao
had climbed the pines, supporting
himself on his bare feet, as he had seen
men do in the South Seas when they
climbed for coconuts. His father had
taken him often to the islands of those
seas, and never had he failed to say to the little brave boy
at his side, ‘‘Those islands yonder, they are the stepping
stones to the future for Japan.’’
‘‘Where shall we step from them?’’ Sadao had asked
seriously.
‘‘Who knows?’’ his father had answered. ‘‘Who can limit
our future? It depends on what we make it.’’
Who was
Dr Sadao?
Where was his
house?
Reprint 2024-25
25 The Enemy
Sadao had taken this into his mind as he did
everything his father said, his father who never joked or
played with him but who spent infinite pains upon him
who was his only son. Sadao knew that his education was
his father’s chief concern. For this reason he had been
sent at twenty-two to America to learn all that could be
learned of surgery and medicine. He had come back at
thirty, and before his father died he had seen Sadao become
famous not only as a surgeon but as a scientist. Because
he was perfecting a discovery which would render wounds
entirely clean, he had not been sent abroad with the troops.
Also, he knew, there was some slight danger that the old
General might need an operation for a condition for which
he was now being treated medically, and for this possibility
Sadao was being kept in Japan.
Clouds were rising from the ocean now. The unexpected
warmth of the past few days had at night drawn heavy fog
from the cold waves. Sadao watched mists hide outlines of
a little island near the shore and then come creeping up
the beach below the house, wreathing around the pines.
In a few minutes fog would be wrapped about the house
too. Then he would go into the room where Hana, his wife,
would be waiting for him with the two children.
But at this moment the door opened and she looked
out, a dark-blue woollen haori
1
 over her kimono. She came
to him affectionately and put her arm through his as he
stood, smiled and said nothing. He had met Hana in
America, but he had waited to fall in love with her until he
was sure she was Japanese. His father would never have
received her unless she had been pure in her race. He
wondered often whom he would have married if he had not
met Hana, and by what luck he had found her in the most
casual way, by chance literally, at an American professor’s
house. The professor and his wife had been kind people
anxious to do something for their few foreign students,
and the students, though bored, had accepted this
kindness. Sadao had often told Hana how nearly he had
not gone to Professor Harley’s house that night — the rooms
1 
haori: a loose outer garment worn over the kimono.
Reprint 2024-25
Page 3


24 Vistas
4 4 4 4 4
The Enemy
Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck
Before you Read
It is the time of the World War. An American prisoner of
war is washed ashore in a dying state and is found at the
doorstep of a Japanese doctor. Should he save him as a doctor
or hand him over to the Army as a patriot?
Dr Sadao Hoki’s house was built on a
spot of the Japanese coast where as a
little boy he had often played. The low,
square stone house was set upon rocks
well above a narrow beach that was
outlined with bent pines. As a boy Sadao
had climbed the pines, supporting
himself on his bare feet, as he had seen
men do in the South Seas when they
climbed for coconuts. His father had
taken him often to the islands of those
seas, and never had he failed to say to the little brave boy
at his side, ‘‘Those islands yonder, they are the stepping
stones to the future for Japan.’’
‘‘Where shall we step from them?’’ Sadao had asked
seriously.
‘‘Who knows?’’ his father had answered. ‘‘Who can limit
our future? It depends on what we make it.’’
Who was
Dr Sadao?
Where was his
house?
Reprint 2024-25
25 The Enemy
Sadao had taken this into his mind as he did
everything his father said, his father who never joked or
played with him but who spent infinite pains upon him
who was his only son. Sadao knew that his education was
his father’s chief concern. For this reason he had been
sent at twenty-two to America to learn all that could be
learned of surgery and medicine. He had come back at
thirty, and before his father died he had seen Sadao become
famous not only as a surgeon but as a scientist. Because
he was perfecting a discovery which would render wounds
entirely clean, he had not been sent abroad with the troops.
Also, he knew, there was some slight danger that the old
General might need an operation for a condition for which
he was now being treated medically, and for this possibility
Sadao was being kept in Japan.
Clouds were rising from the ocean now. The unexpected
warmth of the past few days had at night drawn heavy fog
from the cold waves. Sadao watched mists hide outlines of
a little island near the shore and then come creeping up
the beach below the house, wreathing around the pines.
In a few minutes fog would be wrapped about the house
too. Then he would go into the room where Hana, his wife,
would be waiting for him with the two children.
But at this moment the door opened and she looked
out, a dark-blue woollen haori
1
 over her kimono. She came
to him affectionately and put her arm through his as he
stood, smiled and said nothing. He had met Hana in
America, but he had waited to fall in love with her until he
was sure she was Japanese. His father would never have
received her unless she had been pure in her race. He
wondered often whom he would have married if he had not
met Hana, and by what luck he had found her in the most
casual way, by chance literally, at an American professor’s
house. The professor and his wife had been kind people
anxious to do something for their few foreign students,
and the students, though bored, had accepted this
kindness. Sadao had often told Hana how nearly he had
not gone to Professor Harley’s house that night — the rooms
1 
haori: a loose outer garment worn over the kimono.
Reprint 2024-25
26 Vistas
were so small, the food so bad, the professor’s wife so
voluble. But he had gone and there he had found Hana, a
new student, and had felt he would love her if it were at
all possible.
Now he felt her hand on his arm and was aware of the
pleasure it gave him, even though they had been married
years enough to have the two children. For they had not
married heedlessly in America. They had finished their work
at school and had come home to Japan, and when his
father had seen her the marriage had been arranged in
the old Japanese way, although Sadao and Hana had talked
everything over beforehand. They were perfectly happy. She
laid her cheek against his arm.
It was at this moment that
both of them saw
something black come out
of the mists. It was a man.
He was flung up out of the
ocean — flung, it
seemed, to his feet by a
breaker. He staggered a
few steps, his body
outlined against the mist,
his arms above his head.
Then the curled mists hid
him again.
‘‘Who is that?’’ Hana
cried. She dropped Sadao’s
arm and they both leaned
over the railing of the
veranda. Now they
saw him again. The
man was on his
hands and knees
crawling. Then they saw him
fall on his face and lie there.
‘‘A fisherman perhaps,’’ Sadao
said, ‘‘washed from his boat.’’ He ran
quickly down the steps and behind him
Reprint 2024-25
Page 4


24 Vistas
4 4 4 4 4
The Enemy
Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck
Before you Read
It is the time of the World War. An American prisoner of
war is washed ashore in a dying state and is found at the
doorstep of a Japanese doctor. Should he save him as a doctor
or hand him over to the Army as a patriot?
Dr Sadao Hoki’s house was built on a
spot of the Japanese coast where as a
little boy he had often played. The low,
square stone house was set upon rocks
well above a narrow beach that was
outlined with bent pines. As a boy Sadao
had climbed the pines, supporting
himself on his bare feet, as he had seen
men do in the South Seas when they
climbed for coconuts. His father had
taken him often to the islands of those
seas, and never had he failed to say to the little brave boy
at his side, ‘‘Those islands yonder, they are the stepping
stones to the future for Japan.’’
‘‘Where shall we step from them?’’ Sadao had asked
seriously.
‘‘Who knows?’’ his father had answered. ‘‘Who can limit
our future? It depends on what we make it.’’
Who was
Dr Sadao?
Where was his
house?
Reprint 2024-25
25 The Enemy
Sadao had taken this into his mind as he did
everything his father said, his father who never joked or
played with him but who spent infinite pains upon him
who was his only son. Sadao knew that his education was
his father’s chief concern. For this reason he had been
sent at twenty-two to America to learn all that could be
learned of surgery and medicine. He had come back at
thirty, and before his father died he had seen Sadao become
famous not only as a surgeon but as a scientist. Because
he was perfecting a discovery which would render wounds
entirely clean, he had not been sent abroad with the troops.
Also, he knew, there was some slight danger that the old
General might need an operation for a condition for which
he was now being treated medically, and for this possibility
Sadao was being kept in Japan.
Clouds were rising from the ocean now. The unexpected
warmth of the past few days had at night drawn heavy fog
from the cold waves. Sadao watched mists hide outlines of
a little island near the shore and then come creeping up
the beach below the house, wreathing around the pines.
In a few minutes fog would be wrapped about the house
too. Then he would go into the room where Hana, his wife,
would be waiting for him with the two children.
But at this moment the door opened and she looked
out, a dark-blue woollen haori
1
 over her kimono. She came
to him affectionately and put her arm through his as he
stood, smiled and said nothing. He had met Hana in
America, but he had waited to fall in love with her until he
was sure she was Japanese. His father would never have
received her unless she had been pure in her race. He
wondered often whom he would have married if he had not
met Hana, and by what luck he had found her in the most
casual way, by chance literally, at an American professor’s
house. The professor and his wife had been kind people
anxious to do something for their few foreign students,
and the students, though bored, had accepted this
kindness. Sadao had often told Hana how nearly he had
not gone to Professor Harley’s house that night — the rooms
1 
haori: a loose outer garment worn over the kimono.
Reprint 2024-25
26 Vistas
were so small, the food so bad, the professor’s wife so
voluble. But he had gone and there he had found Hana, a
new student, and had felt he would love her if it were at
all possible.
Now he felt her hand on his arm and was aware of the
pleasure it gave him, even though they had been married
years enough to have the two children. For they had not
married heedlessly in America. They had finished their work
at school and had come home to Japan, and when his
father had seen her the marriage had been arranged in
the old Japanese way, although Sadao and Hana had talked
everything over beforehand. They were perfectly happy. She
laid her cheek against his arm.
It was at this moment that
both of them saw
something black come out
of the mists. It was a man.
He was flung up out of the
ocean — flung, it
seemed, to his feet by a
breaker. He staggered a
few steps, his body
outlined against the mist,
his arms above his head.
Then the curled mists hid
him again.
‘‘Who is that?’’ Hana
cried. She dropped Sadao’s
arm and they both leaned
over the railing of the
veranda. Now they
saw him again. The
man was on his
hands and knees
crawling. Then they saw him
fall on his face and lie there.
‘‘A fisherman perhaps,’’ Sadao
said, ‘‘washed from his boat.’’ He ran
quickly down the steps and behind him
Reprint 2024-25
27 The Enemy
Hana came, her wide sleeves flying. A mile or two away on
either side there were fishing villages, but here was only
the bare and lonely coast, dangerous with rocks. The surf
beyond the beach was spiked with rocks. Somehow the
man had managed to come through them — he must be
badly torn.
They saw when they came toward him that indeed it
was so. The sand on one side of him had already a stain of
red soaking through.
‘‘He is wounded,’’ Sadao exclaimed. He made haste to
the man, who lay motionless, his face in the sand. An old
cap stuck to his head soaked with sea water. He was in
wet rags of garments. Sadao stopped, Hana at his side,
and turned the man’s head. They saw the face.
“A white man!” Hana whispered.
Yes, it was a white man. The wet cap fell away and
there was his wet yellow hair, long, as though for many
weeks it had not been cut, and upon his young and tortured
face was a rough yellow beard. He was
unconscious and knew nothing that they
did for him.
Now Sadao remembered the wound,
and with his expert fingers he began to
search for it. Blood flowed freshly at his
touch. On the right side of his lower back
Sadao saw that a gun wound had been
reopened. The flesh was blackened with
powder. Sometime, not many days ago,
the man had been shot and had not been
tended. It was bad chance that the rock
had struck the wound.
‘‘Oh, how he is bleeding!’’ Hana whispered again in a
solemn voice. The mists screened them now completely,
and at this time of day no one came by. The fishermen had
gone home and even the chance beachcombers would have
considered the day at an end.
‘‘What shall we do with this man?’’ Sadao muttered.
But his trained hands seemed of their own will to be doing
what they could to stanch the fearful bleeding. He packed
Will Dr Sadao be
arrested on the
charge of
harbouring an
enemy?
Reprint 2024-25
Page 5


24 Vistas
4 4 4 4 4
The Enemy
Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck Pearl S. Buck
Before you Read
It is the time of the World War. An American prisoner of
war is washed ashore in a dying state and is found at the
doorstep of a Japanese doctor. Should he save him as a doctor
or hand him over to the Army as a patriot?
Dr Sadao Hoki’s house was built on a
spot of the Japanese coast where as a
little boy he had often played. The low,
square stone house was set upon rocks
well above a narrow beach that was
outlined with bent pines. As a boy Sadao
had climbed the pines, supporting
himself on his bare feet, as he had seen
men do in the South Seas when they
climbed for coconuts. His father had
taken him often to the islands of those
seas, and never had he failed to say to the little brave boy
at his side, ‘‘Those islands yonder, they are the stepping
stones to the future for Japan.’’
‘‘Where shall we step from them?’’ Sadao had asked
seriously.
‘‘Who knows?’’ his father had answered. ‘‘Who can limit
our future? It depends on what we make it.’’
Who was
Dr Sadao?
Where was his
house?
Reprint 2024-25
25 The Enemy
Sadao had taken this into his mind as he did
everything his father said, his father who never joked or
played with him but who spent infinite pains upon him
who was his only son. Sadao knew that his education was
his father’s chief concern. For this reason he had been
sent at twenty-two to America to learn all that could be
learned of surgery and medicine. He had come back at
thirty, and before his father died he had seen Sadao become
famous not only as a surgeon but as a scientist. Because
he was perfecting a discovery which would render wounds
entirely clean, he had not been sent abroad with the troops.
Also, he knew, there was some slight danger that the old
General might need an operation for a condition for which
he was now being treated medically, and for this possibility
Sadao was being kept in Japan.
Clouds were rising from the ocean now. The unexpected
warmth of the past few days had at night drawn heavy fog
from the cold waves. Sadao watched mists hide outlines of
a little island near the shore and then come creeping up
the beach below the house, wreathing around the pines.
In a few minutes fog would be wrapped about the house
too. Then he would go into the room where Hana, his wife,
would be waiting for him with the two children.
But at this moment the door opened and she looked
out, a dark-blue woollen haori
1
 over her kimono. She came
to him affectionately and put her arm through his as he
stood, smiled and said nothing. He had met Hana in
America, but he had waited to fall in love with her until he
was sure she was Japanese. His father would never have
received her unless she had been pure in her race. He
wondered often whom he would have married if he had not
met Hana, and by what luck he had found her in the most
casual way, by chance literally, at an American professor’s
house. The professor and his wife had been kind people
anxious to do something for their few foreign students,
and the students, though bored, had accepted this
kindness. Sadao had often told Hana how nearly he had
not gone to Professor Harley’s house that night — the rooms
1 
haori: a loose outer garment worn over the kimono.
Reprint 2024-25
26 Vistas
were so small, the food so bad, the professor’s wife so
voluble. But he had gone and there he had found Hana, a
new student, and had felt he would love her if it were at
all possible.
Now he felt her hand on his arm and was aware of the
pleasure it gave him, even though they had been married
years enough to have the two children. For they had not
married heedlessly in America. They had finished their work
at school and had come home to Japan, and when his
father had seen her the marriage had been arranged in
the old Japanese way, although Sadao and Hana had talked
everything over beforehand. They were perfectly happy. She
laid her cheek against his arm.
It was at this moment that
both of them saw
something black come out
of the mists. It was a man.
He was flung up out of the
ocean — flung, it
seemed, to his feet by a
breaker. He staggered a
few steps, his body
outlined against the mist,
his arms above his head.
Then the curled mists hid
him again.
‘‘Who is that?’’ Hana
cried. She dropped Sadao’s
arm and they both leaned
over the railing of the
veranda. Now they
saw him again. The
man was on his
hands and knees
crawling. Then they saw him
fall on his face and lie there.
‘‘A fisherman perhaps,’’ Sadao
said, ‘‘washed from his boat.’’ He ran
quickly down the steps and behind him
Reprint 2024-25
27 The Enemy
Hana came, her wide sleeves flying. A mile or two away on
either side there were fishing villages, but here was only
the bare and lonely coast, dangerous with rocks. The surf
beyond the beach was spiked with rocks. Somehow the
man had managed to come through them — he must be
badly torn.
They saw when they came toward him that indeed it
was so. The sand on one side of him had already a stain of
red soaking through.
‘‘He is wounded,’’ Sadao exclaimed. He made haste to
the man, who lay motionless, his face in the sand. An old
cap stuck to his head soaked with sea water. He was in
wet rags of garments. Sadao stopped, Hana at his side,
and turned the man’s head. They saw the face.
“A white man!” Hana whispered.
Yes, it was a white man. The wet cap fell away and
there was his wet yellow hair, long, as though for many
weeks it had not been cut, and upon his young and tortured
face was a rough yellow beard. He was
unconscious and knew nothing that they
did for him.
Now Sadao remembered the wound,
and with his expert fingers he began to
search for it. Blood flowed freshly at his
touch. On the right side of his lower back
Sadao saw that a gun wound had been
reopened. The flesh was blackened with
powder. Sometime, not many days ago,
the man had been shot and had not been
tended. It was bad chance that the rock
had struck the wound.
‘‘Oh, how he is bleeding!’’ Hana whispered again in a
solemn voice. The mists screened them now completely,
and at this time of day no one came by. The fishermen had
gone home and even the chance beachcombers would have
considered the day at an end.
‘‘What shall we do with this man?’’ Sadao muttered.
But his trained hands seemed of their own will to be doing
what they could to stanch the fearful bleeding. He packed
Will Dr Sadao be
arrested on the
charge of
harbouring an
enemy?
Reprint 2024-25
28 Vistas
the wound with the sea moss that strewed the beach. The
man moaned with pain in his stupor but he did not awaken.
‘‘The best thing that we could do would be to put him
back in the sea,’’ Sadao said, answering himself.
Now that the bleeding was stopped for the moment he
stood up and dusted the sand from his hands.
‘‘Yes, undoubtedly that would be best,’’ Hana said
steadily. But she continued to stare down at the motionless
man.
‘‘If we sheltered a white man in our house we should
be arrested and if we turned him over as a prisoner, he
would certainly die,’’ Sadao said.
‘‘The kindest thing would be to put him back into the
sea,’’ Hana said. But neither of them moved. They were
staring with a curious repulsion upon the inert figure.
‘‘What is he?’’ Hana whispered.
‘‘There is something about him that looks American,’’
Sadao said. He took up the battered cap. Yes, there, almost
gone, was the faint lettering. ‘‘A sailor,’’ he said, ‘‘from an
American warship.’’ He spelled it out: ‘‘U.S. Navy.’’ The man
was a prisoner of war!
‘‘He has escaped.’’ Hana cried softly, ‘‘and that is why
he is wounded.’’
‘‘In the back,’’ Sadao agreed.
They hesitated, looking at each other. Then Hana said
with resolution:
“Come, are we able to put him back into the sea?”
“If I am able, are you?” Sadao asked.
“No,” Hana said, “But if you can do it alone...”
Sadao hesitated again. “The strange thing is,” he said,
“that if the man were whole I could turn him over to the
police without difficulty. I care nothing for him. He is my
enemy. All Americans are my enemy. And he is only a
common fellow. You see how foolish his face is. But since
he is wounded…”
“You also cannot throw him back to the sea,” Hana
said. “Then there is only one thing to do. We must carry
him into the house.”
“But the servants?” Sadao inquired.
Reprint 2024-25