by Wu Cheng-En
“Venerable sir,” he asked, “What is this place, and how did you get here?”
“This is the Double Forked Mountain, where tigers and leopards make their dens. How did you fall in here?”
“I crossed the frontier at the garrison city of Hezhou at cockcrow, not realizing that I had got up too early,” replied Sanzang. “Just as we were making our way through frost and dew we suddenly fell into this pit. A dreadfully ferocious demon king appeared and had me and my attendants tied up. Then a dark fellow called Mountain Lord Bear and a fat one called Hermit Ox came in, and they addressed the demon king as General Yin. The three of them ate up my two attendants, and their party only ended at dawn. I cannot imagine why I should have been fated with the good fortune of you coming to rescue me, venerable sir.”
“The Hermit is a wild bull spirit, the Mountain Lord is a bear spirit, and General Yin is a tiger spirit,” the old man replied. “The fiends who serve him are mountain spirits, tree devils, monsters, and wolves. The reason they did not eat you was because your fundamental nature is enlightened. Come with me and I'll show you the way.” Overcome with gratitude, Sanzang put the packs on his horse and led it by the bridle as he followed the old man out of the pit and on to the main road. Tying the horse to a bush beside the road, he turned round to bow low to the old man and thank him, but the old man changed into a puff of wind and rose into the sky on the back of a red-crested white crane. All that could be seen was a piece of paper drifting down in the wind with four lines of verse written on it:
“I am the Planet Venus of the Western Heaven,
Who came to save your life.
In the journey ahead you will have divine disciples:
Do not in your troubles feel angry with the scriptures.”
When he had read this Sanzang worshipped Heaven and said, “Many thanks, Planet, for delivering me from this danger.” This done, he continued on his difficult journey, feeling very lonely as he led his horse along. On this mountain there were
Cold rains and winds howling in the trees,
Streams splashing noisily down gullies,
Fragrant wild flowers,
Screens of rocks and boulders.
Deer and ape made raucous howls,
Roebuck and muntjac ran in herds.
Many were the songs of birds.
But there was no trace of man.
The abbot
Was trembling and uneasy;
His horse
Could barely lift its hoofs.
Sanzang did not spare himself as he pressed ahead amid the mountain peaks. He had been going for many hours without seeing any sign of a human house; he was hungry and finding the going heavy. Just at this critical moment he saw in front of him a pair of ferocious tigers roaring, while two long snakes were coiled up behind him. To his left were venomous reptiles, and to his right were terrible monsters. Being by himself and unable to think of a way out, Sanzang prepared to abandon his mind and body and let Heaven do as it would. Besides, the horse's back was now so tired and its legs so bent that it fell to its knees on the ground and collapsed. Sanzang could not move it, either by blows or by dragging at its bridle.
The poor Master of the Law, who had nowhere to shelter, was feeling thoroughly wretched, convinced that nothing could save him from death. But when his troubles were at their worst someone came to his rescue. Just when all seemed lost he saw the venomous reptiles and the evil monsters flee, while the tigers and the snakes hid themselves. Sanzang looked up and saw a man coming across the hillside with a steel trident in his hand and bow and arrows at his waist. Just look and see what a fine chap he was:
On his head
A leopard skin hat with artemisia patterns:
On his body
A coat of woollen cloth.
Round his waist was tied a lion belt,
On his feet a pair of deerskin boots.
His eyes were as round as an evil spirit's;
His curly beard was like the evil god of the moon's.
From his waist hung a bow with poisoned arrows,
And in his hand was a steel-tipped trident.
The thunder of his voice would make a wild beast tremble,
And his ferocity terrified the pheasants.
Seeing him approach, Sanzang knelt down beside the path, put his hands together, and shouted at the top of his voice, “Spare me, bandit king, spare me.” The man went over to him, put down his trident, and raised him to his feet.
“Don't be frightened, venerable monk,” he said, “I'm not a bad man; I'm a hunter who lives in these mountains. My name is Liu Boqin and I am known as the warden of the mountain. I came along here because I wanted a couple of animals for the pot. I never expected to meet you here-I must have offended you.”
“I am a monk sent by the Emperor of the Great Tang to visit the Buddha in the Western Heaven and ask for the scriptures,” Sanzang replied. “I had just got here when I found myself completely surrounded by wolves, tigers, snakes and other creatures, which meant that I could go no further. Then suddenly you appeared, High Warden, and saved my life. Thank you very much indeed.”
“Those of us who live here,” replied Liu Boqin, “can only support ourselves by killing tigers and wolves, and catching snakes and other reptiles, which is why all those animals fled in terror from me. As you are from the Tang Empire, we are compatriots. This is still the territory of the Great Tang, and I am a Tang citizen. Both of us depend on the Emperor's lands and rivers for our food and drink, and we are fellow-countrymen, so there is nothing to fear. You must come with me to my hut, and your horse can rest. I'll take you on your way tomorrow.” Sanzang, who was delighted to hear this, thanked him and went along behind him, leading the horse.
When they had crossed the mountainside they heard a sound like the howling of a wind. “Sit down here and don't move, venerable monk,” said Boqin. “That noise like a wind means that a mountain cat is coming. Just wait a moment while I catch it, then I can take it home to feed you with.” This news so terrified Sanzang that he dared not move. The high warden was striding forward, brandishing his trident, to meet the animal, when a striped tiger appeared in front of him. At the sight of Liu Boqin the animal turned to flee, but the high warden let out a thunderclap of a shout: “Where d'you think you're going, wretch?” When the tiger realized that Liu Boqin was in hot pursuit, it turned and charged him, baring its claws. The high warden raised his trident to meet his opponent. At the sight of all this Sanzang collapsed on the grass, paralyzed with fear; never had he seen anything so terrifying in all his born days. The tiger and the high warden fought a magnificent battle under the mountain:
Bursting with anger,
Mad with rage.
Bursting with anger,
The warden bristled, immensely strong.
Mad with rage,
The striped tiger snorted out red dust as it showed its might.
One bared its teeth and brandished its claws,
The other twisted and turned.
The trident thrust against the heavens and blotted out the sun;
The patterned tail stirred up mist and clouds.
One made wild stabs at the chest,
The other struck at the head.
To avoid the blows was to win a new life;
A hit was an appointment with the King of Hell.
All that could be heard was the tiger bellowing
And the high warden shouting.
When the tiger bellowed,
Mountains and rivers split open, to the terror of birds and beasts.
At the high warden's shouts,
The sky was parted and the stars revealed.
The tiger's golden eyes were bulging with fury,
The hunter's valiant heart was full of wrath.
How admirable was high warden Liu of the mountain,
How splendid the lord of the beasts of the land.
As man and tiger fought for victory
Whoever weakened would lose his life.
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After the pair of them had been fighting for about two hours the tiger's claws began to slacken as it grew tired, and just then the high warden smote him full in the chest with his trident. Its points pierced the animal's liver and heart, a pitiful sight. Within an instant the ground was covered with its blood as the hunter dragged it along the path by its ears. What a man! Without panting, and with his expression unchanged, he said to Sanzang, “What a piece of luck. This mountain cat will be enough! to feed you for a whole day.” Sanzang was full of praise for him.
“High Warden, you really are a mountain god.”
“It was nothing,” said Liu Boqin, “so please don't exaggerate. This is all the result of your blessings. Come on, let's skin it and boil up some of its meat as soon as we can so as to get you fed.” Holding his trident in one hand and dragging the tiger with the other he led the way, while Sanzang followed, leading his horse. As they wound their way across the mountain, a cottage suddenly came into view. In front of its gate there were:
Ancient trees reaching to the sky,
Wild creepers covering the path.
Cool were the wind and dust in the valleys,
Strange vapours coiled around the cliffs.
The scent of wild flowers was all along the path,
Deep, deep the green of the bamboos.
A thatched gatehouse,
A fenced yard,
Both pretty as a picture.
A stone bridge,
Whitewashed mud walls:
Charming austerity.
The loneliness of autumn,
Airy isolation.
Yellow leaves lay fallen beside the path,
White clouds drifted above the peaks.
Mountain birds sang in the woods
While a puppy barked outside the gate.
When he reached the gate, the high warden Liu Boqin threw down the tiger and shouted, “Where are you, lads?” Three or four servants of strange and repulsive appearance came out, and with much pulling and tugging they carried the tiger in. Boqin told them to skin it at once and prepare it to offer to their guest, then turned round to welcome Sanzang in. When they had formally greeted each other Sanzang bowed to Boqin to thank him for taking pity on him and saving his life.
“Why bother to thank me? We're fellow countrymen.” When Sanzang had been offered a seat and served with tea, an old woman came out to greet him followed by a young one. Liu Boqin explained that they were his mother and his wife.
“Madam, please take the highest seat while I bow to you,” said Sanzang.
“You are a guest from afar, venerable monk, so let us each preserve our dignity and neither bow to the other,” the old woman replied.
“Mother,” said Liu Boqin, “he has been sent by His Majesty the Tang Emperor to go to the Western Heaven to see the Buddha and fetch the scriptures. I met him on the mountain, and I thought that as we were fellow-countrymen I should invite him home to rest before I take him on his way tomorrow.” The old woman was delighted.
“Good, good,” she said. “But it would be even better to ask him to stay longer. Tomorrow is the anniversary of your father's passing away, and I would like to trouble the venerable monk to say some prayers and read a sutra for him; you could take him on his way the day after.” Although this Boqin was a tiger-killer and the high warden of the mountain, he was a dutiful son, and when he heard this suggestion he made ready paper and incense and asked Sanzang to stay.
While they talked they had not noticed the evening drawing in. The servants set out a table and stools, then brought in several dishes of tender tiger-meat, which they placed steaming hot on the table. Liu Boqin asked Sanzang to help himself while he served the rice. Putting his hands together in front of his chest, Sanzang replied, “This is wonderful, but I must tell you frankly that I have been a monk ever since I left my mother's womb, so I am quite unable to eat meat.” Boqin thought for a while before replying, “Venerable monk, our family has not eaten vegetarian food for generations. When we cut bamboo shoots, pick fungus, gather wild vegetables for drying, or make bean-curd we always cook them in the fat of roebuck, deer, tiger or leopard, so even they aren't really vegetarian; and our two cooking pots are steeped in fat, so what are we to do? I'm afraid it was wrong of me to ask you here.”
“There's no need to worry,” Sanzang answered. “Please go ahead and eat. I'd go without food for four or five days, or even starve, rather than break the monastic rule about vegetarian food.”
“But we can't have you starving to death,” protested Liu Boqin.
“Thanks to your great kindness, High Warden, I was saved from the packs of tigers and wolves. Even if I were to starve to death, it would be better than providing a meal for tigers.”
Liu Boqin's mother, who had been listening to their conversation, said, “Don't talk nonsense, son. I've got some vegetarian things that we can offer to him.”
“Where did you get them from?” Liu Boqin asked, to which mother replied, “Never you mind how, but I've got them.” She told her daughter-in-law to take down the little cooking-pot, burn the fat out of it, scrub it and wash it several times over, then put it back on the stove. Then they half filled it with boiling water that they threw away. Next she poured boiling water on mountain-elm leaves to make tea, boiled up some millet, and cooked some dried vegetables. This was then all put into two bowls and set on the table. Then the old woman said to Sanzang, “Please eat, venerable monk. This is completely pure tea and food that I and my daughter-in-law have prepared.” Sanzang thanked them and sat down in the seat of honour. Another place was laid for Liu Boqin, where were set out bowls and dishes full of the meat of tiger, roebuck, snake, fox, and hare, as well as dried venison, all cooked without salt or sauce, which he was going to eat while Sanzang had his vegetarian meal. He had just sat down and was on the point of picking up his chopsticks when he noticed Sanzang put his hands together to recite some scripture, which so alarmed him that instead of picking up his chopsticks he stood beside him. When Sanzang had recited a few lines he urged Boqin to eat.
“Are you a short-sutra monk then?” Boqin asked.
“That wasn't a sutra, it was a grace before eating.”
“You get up to all sorts of tricks. Fancy reciting sutras at mealtimes,” was Boqin's comment.
When the meal was over and the dishes had been cleared away, Liu Boqin invited Sanzang out into the gathering darkness for a stroll at the back. They went along an alley and came to a thatched hut. On pushing the door open and going in Sanzang saw bows and crossbows hanging on the walls and quivers filled with arrows. From the beams were slung two gory and stinking tiger-skins, and at the foot of the wall were stood many spears, swords, tridents and clubs. In the middle were two seats. Liu Boqin urged Sanzang to sit down, but Sanzang could not bear to stay there long among the horrifying filth, and so he went outside. Going further to the back they came to a large garden full of clumps of yellow chrysanthemums and red maple-trees. Then with a whinnying noise about a dozen plump deer and a large herd of roebuck ran out; they were docile and unfrightened on seeing humans.
“Were those roebuck and deer raised by you?” asked Sanzang.
“Yes,” replied Boqin. “When you Chang'an people have some money you buy valuables, and when you have land you accumulate grain; but we hunters can only keep a few wild animals for a rainy day.” Dusk had fallen unnoticed as the two of them talked, and now they went back to the house to sleep.
Early the next morning the whole family, young and old, got up and prepared vegetarian food for the monk, and then they asked him to start reciting sutras. Sanzang washed his hands, went to the family shrine of the high warden, burned incense there, and worshipped, then beat his “wooden fish” as he recited first a prayer to purify his mouth, then a holy spell to purify his body and mind, and finally the Sutra to Deliver the Dead. When he had finished, Boqin asked him to write out a letter of introduction for the dead man and also recite the Diamond Sutra and the Guanyin Sutra. Sanzang rec
ited them in a loud, clear voice and then ate lunch, after which he read out the several chapters of the Lotus Sutra, the Amitabha Sutra, as well as one chapter of the Peacock Sutra and told the story of the cleansing of the bhikshu. By now it was dark, and when they had burned all kinds of incense, paper money, and paper horses for all the gods, and the letter of introduction for the dead man, the service was over and everyone went to bed and slept soundly.
The soul of Boqin's father, now delivered from being a drowned ghost, came to the house that night and appeared in a dream to everyone in the family.
“I suffered long in the underworld, unable to find deliverance,” he said, “but now that the saintly monk has wiped out my sins by reading some scriptures. King Yama has had me sent back to the rich land of China to be reborn in an important family. You must reward him generously, and no half measures. Now I'm going.” Indeed:
Great is the significance of the majestic Law,
That saves the dead from suffering and the morass.
When they all awoke from their dreams, the sun had already risen in the East. Boqin's wife said, “Warden, your father came to me in a dream last night. He said that he had suffered long in the underworld, and couldn't find deliverance. Now that the saintly monk has wiped out his sins by reading some scriptures, King Yama has had him sent back to the rich land of China to be reborn in an important family. He told us to thank him generously, and no half measures. When he'd said this he went out through the door and drifted away. He didn't answer when I called, and I couldn't make him stay. Then I woke up and realized that it was a dream.”
“I had a dream just like yours,” replied Liu Boqin. “Let's go and tell mother about it.” As they were on the point of doing this they heard his mother shout, “Come here, Boqin my son. There's something I want to tell you.” The two of them went in to her to find the old woman sitting on the bed.