Journey to the West (vol. 1)

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Journey to the West (vol. 1) Page 84

by Wu Cheng-En


  One phrase unites all the words without number;

  Boundless and deep is the strength of the Dharma.

  If you don't know how the boy was finally converted, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

  Chapter 43

  At the Black River a Monster Carries Off the Priest

  The Dragon Prince of the West Captures an Alligator

  The story tell how the Bodhisattva recited the spell several times before stopping. Only then did the evil spirit's agony cease. When he recovered, stood up and looked at himself he found that he had gold bands rounds his neck, hands and feet. They were painfully tight, and try as he would he could not move them at all. The treasures had already taken root in his flesh, and the more he rubbed them the more they hurt.

  “There, there, little darling,” mocked Monkey. “The Bodhisattva's put a lucky amulet ring round your neck to make sure you grow up safely.”

  This jibe infuriated the boy, who grabbed his spear once more and started lunging wildly at Monkey. Monkey nimbly avoided it and went behind the Bodhisattva, yelling, “Say the spell, say the spell.”

  The Bodhisattva moistened her willow sprig with sweet dew, and flicked the ambrosial liquid at him with a call of “Together!” The boy dropped his spear and put his hands together in front of his chest, unable to pull them apart. The “Guanyin twist” that some people still have today is what he had. Only when he could not pick up his spear because his hands were inseparably joined did the boy appreciate the deep mystery of the power of the Dharma. He could do no other than lower his head in a kowtow.

  The Bodhisattva then recited another true spell and turned her vase over to take back the whole seaful of water. Not half a drop was left behind. “Wukong,” she said to Monkey, “this demon has now surrendered. The only thing is that he still has some wild ideas. He will-only accept the Dharma after he has gone from here to Potaraka Island making a kowtow at every step of the journey. You must go straight back to the cave to rescue your master.”

  “As your disciple has put you to the trouble of this long journey,” said Monkey with a kowtow, “I should see you some of your way back.”

  “No need,” said the Bodhisattva. “I am worried for your master's life.” Brother Monkey then kowtowed to take his leave of her joyfully. The evil spirit was now converted to the True Achievement by Guanyin, who became his fifty-third religious teacher.

  The story now turns from how the Bodhisattva won a page boy through her wisdom to Friar Sand, who had long been sitting in the woods waiting for Monkey. When Monkey did not come back he tied the luggage on the back of the horse, and leading it by its bridle with one hand and holding his demon-quelling staff in the other he went out of the pine woods to take a look to the South. Seeing Monkey returning in a very good mood, Friar Sand went up to him and said, “Brother, why has it taken you so long to get back from asking the Bodhisattva to come? I've been half dead from worry.”

  “You must have been asleep and dreaming,” said Monkey. “I've already brought her here and she has subdued the demon.” Monkey then told him all about the Bodhisattva's Dharma power. “Let's go and rescue the master,” said Friar Sand with delight.

  The two of them then leapt across the ravine and rushed to the doors, where they tethered the horse. Then they charged in together, their weapons at the ready, and wiped out the devils. They let the leather bag down to release Pig, who thanked Monkey and asked, “Where's that evil spirit, brother? Just let me have a go at him with my rake; I want to get my own back.”

  “Let's find the master,” said Monkey.

  The three of them went right to the back of the cave, where they found their master tied up stark naked and weeping in the rear courtyard. Friar Sand untied him while Monkey fetched his clothes to dress him. The three of them then knelt before him and said, “Master, you have suffered terribly.”

  Sanzang thanked them and said, “Dear disciples, I have put you to great trouble. How was the demon subdued?” Monkey then told him how the Bodhisattva had been asked to come and had taken the boy as her page. (This is what people refer to nowadays when they talk about the page boy submitting to the Bodhisattva, and respecting her as his fifty-third teacher after visiting the Buddha on three occasions.)

  Monkey told Friar Sand to collect all the valuables in the cave then find some rice to prepare a vegetarian meal for the master. The venerable elder owed his life entirely to the Great Sage Sun; and it was on the Handsome Monkey Spirit that he depended to fetch the scriptures. Master and disciples then left the cave. The horse was saddled up, and once they found the main trail they headed West with wholehearted determination.

  One day when they had been travelling for over a month Sanzang heard the sound of a river. “Disciple,” said Sanzang in great alarm, “what river is that?”

  “You're much too much of a worrier, old Master,” laughed Monkey “ever to become a priest. Why should you alone among the four of us hear water? Have you forgotten your Heart Sutra?”

  “I was taught the fifty-four sentences and 270 words of that sutra on Pagoda Mountain by the Rook's Nest Hermit in person,” replied Sanzang. “I learned them by ear and I constantly repeat them to myself. Which sentence of it have I forgotten?”

  “Master,” said Brother Monkey, “you've forgotten the sentence, 'There is no sight, no sound, no smell, no taste, no touch and no mental process.' We men of religion should not look on beauty, hear music, smell sweet fragrances, or taste good flavors. We should not even notice whether we are hot or cold, and our minds should be free from delusion. This is the way to repel the Six Bandits that attack eye, ear, nose, tongue, body and mind. Because of your mission to fetch the scriptures you are constantly worrying. You are afraid of evil monsters because you cling to your body. When you ask for vegetarian food your tongue is moved. If you enjoy a pleasant aroma it stimulates your nose. Sounds startle your ears. By looking at things you fasten your eyes on them. If you will keep on inviting the Six Bandits in over and over again how can you ever expect to reach the Western Heaven and see the Buddha?”

  At this Sanzang fell into deep and silent thought for a while, then said, “Disciple,

  When many years ago from my emperor I was parted,

  On endless days and nights of travelling I started.

  In the mists upon the mountains my grass sandal were worn through;

  Many ridges have I climbed in my rain-hat of bamboo.

  How often have I sighed when the gibbons call at night?

  I cannot bear to listen to birds chirping in the moonlight.

  When will I achieve the three Samadhis, I implore,

  And obtain the Tathagata's most wonderful Law?”

  When he had heard this Monkey could not help clapping his hands and laughing aloud. “Master,” he said, “you're suffering terribly from homesickness. If you really want to achieve the three Samadhis it isn't all difficult. As the saying goes, 'At the right time the achievement completes itself.'”

  “Brother,” said Pig, looking back to him, “if we keep on coming up against such terrible demons we'll never succeed in a thousand years.”

  “Brother Pig,” said Friar Sand, “you're as coarse-tongued as I am. Stop irritating Monkey: he might lose his temper. Just keep on carrying your load and one day we'll finally succeed.”

  They walked on as they talked, and the horse's hoofs never rested until they came to a great black river stretching as far as the eye could see. When the four of them stood on the bank to take a close look they saw

  Wave upon turbid wave,

  Eddies and muddy whirls.

  Wave upon turbid wave churns up the dark waters,

  Eddies and muddy whirls looking like grease.

  From close up it does not reflect the human image;

  For far around not a tree can be seen.

  Rolling ink,

  Seething ash.

  Bubbles that rise are charcoal;

  The flying foam is like shoveled coal-dust.
>
  Cattle and sheep will not drink,

  Magpie and crow avoid it.

  Cattle and sheep will not drink its blackness;

  Magpie and crow avoid its vast expanse.

  Only the reeds by the bank grow as they should,

  While the flowers and grass by the sandbank flourish green.

  The world is full of rivers and lakes,

  And many are its streams and marshes and springs,

  But of all the places that people have seen in life,

  The Black River of the West is not among them.

  “Disciples,” asked Sanzang as he dismounted, “why is this river so dark and turbid?”

  “Someone's washed out an indigo dyeing-vat in it,” said Pig. “No,” said Friar Sand, “somebody's been cleaning their inkstone in it.”

  “Stop making silly guesses, you two,” said Monkey, “and let's work out how we're going to get the master across.”

  “I'd have no problem crossing that river,” said Pig. “I could ride a cloud or swim and be over it before you'd had time to eat a meal.”

  “And I could be across in an instant on a cloud or by walking on the water,” said Friar Sand. “It's easy enough for us,” said Monkey, “but the problem is the master.”

  “Disciples,” said Sanzang, “how wide is this river?”

  “Three or four miles,” said Pig.

  “You three decide which of you will carry me across,” said Sanzang.

  “Pig can carry you,” said Monkey.

  “It'd be hard,” said Pig. “If I tried carrying him by cloud we wouldn't get three feet above the ground. As the saying goes, mortals are heavier than mountains. And if I tried to swim with him on my back we'd both drown.”

  As they were talking on the bank a man appeared upstream rowing a little boat. “Disciples,” said Sanzang with delight, “here's a boat. Let's ask the boatman to take us across.”

  “Boatman,” shouted Friar Sand, “ferry us over.”

  “This isn't a ferry,” replied the man on the boat, “and I couldn't possibly ferry you over.” “'Helpfulness first, in Heaven and earth,'“ said Friar Sand. “You may not be a ferryman, but we don't keep coming to pester you. We are Buddhists from the East sent by the emperor to fetch the scriptures. If you could have a little consideration and ferry us over we'd show you our gratitude.”

  At this the boatman brought his craft over to the bank and said as he rested on his oars, “Masters, this boat's too small to take all of you over.” When Sanzang took a closer look he saw that the boat was carved from a single log with only enough room for two hollowed out in the middle.

  “What shall we do?” Sanzang asked. “This boat can take us over in two trips,” said Friar Sand. At this Pig tried what he thought would be a clever way of saving himself some trouble and getting himself well in with the master. “Friar Sand,” he said, “you and Brother Monkey look after the luggage and the horse while I take the master over first. Then the man can come back for the horse. Brother Monkey can jump over the river.”

  “Good idea,” nodded Monkey.

  While the idiot supported the Tang Priest, the boatman pushed off and rowed straight into the main stream. Once they reached the middle there was a great roar as huge waves blotted out the heavens, and a terrible storm blew up. What a wind!

  The skies were filled with angry clouds;

  Towering black waves were whipped up in the river.

  The flying sand from the river's banks was blotting out the sun;

  All around the trees went down with cries that rose to heaven.

  The churned-up rivers and seas struck terror into dragons,

  While trees and flowers perished in the dust.

  The blows were like the crash of thunder;

  The mighty gusts all roared like hungry tigers.

  Crabs, fish and prawns lay down to pray to heaven,

  While birds and beasts were driven from their nests.

  Disaster struck all boatmen on the lakes;

  No human life was safe upon the seas.

  The fisherman by the stream could barely hold his spear;

  The river boatman could not punt his ferry.

  Houses collapsed as bricks and tiles flew;

  In the universal terror Mount Tai was shaken.

  This wind was the work of the boatman, who was in fact a monster from the Black River. Watch as the Tang Priest and Pig plunge into the waters, boat and all. They disappeared without a trace, and nobody knew where they had been carried off to.

  On the river bank Friar Sand and Monkey were desperate. “What are we to do?” they said. “The master keeps running into disaster. Now he's in trouble here at the Black River after escaping from the last demon and having a peaceful stretch of his journey.”

  “Perhaps the boat capsized,” said Friar Sand, “let's look for him further downstream.”

  “No,” said Monkey, “it can't be that. If the boat had capsized Pig can swim and he'd certainly have saved the master and raised him above the water. I noticed there was something a bit wrong about the boatman just now, and I'm sure that he caused the wind and has taken the master down under the water.”

  “Why didn't you say so before?” asked Friar Sand. “Look after the horse and the luggage while I go to look for him in the water.”

  “But the water doesn't look right either,” said Monkey. “I don't think you'll be able to.”

  “It's nothing compared to the water in my Shifting Sands River,” said Friar Sand, “I can do it.”

  The splendid monk took off his tunic, tied strips of cloth round his wrists and feet, and plunged into the waves with a great splash as he whirled his demon-quelling staff. As he strode through the waters he heard voices, so he drew aside to steal a look. He saw a pavilion, over the doors of which was written large PALACE OF THE GOD OF THE BLACK RIVER IN THE HENGYANG VALLEY.

  He could hear a monster saying to himself as he sat there, “It's been hard work getting him, but this priest is a holy man who has cultivated his conduct for ten lives. One piece of his flesh is enough to make you immortal. I've waited for him long enough, and now my ambition has been fulfilled.”

  Then he issued his orders: “Little ones, fetch the metal steamer at once, cook those two monks whole, then write an invitation and deliver it to my second uncle asking him over to eat them as a birthday feast.”

  This was too much for Friar Sand's temper. He beat on the doors with his staff, yelling abusively, “Damned monsters, give me back my master the Tang Priest and my brother Pig this minute!” This gave the demons inside the doors such a fright that they ran in to report, “Disaster!”

  “What disaster?” the old monster asked.

  “There's a very sinister-looking monk outside beating at the outer doors and yelling for them.”

  At this the monster sent for his armor, which the little demons brought in. When it was all properly tied on he went outside, holding his flail of steel pieces joined together by bamboo-shaped links. He was a vicious sight.

  Round eyes gleamed fiery red in a square-cut face;

  His blood-red lips were curled round an enormous mouth.

  The whiskers of his beard were strands of wire;

  The matted hair at his temples was cinnabar red.

  He looked like the sinister Year Lord in his might,

  With the angry face of furious thunder god.

  The iron armor he wore was burnished with flowers,

  And many a jewel was set in his golden helm.

  Holding the flail of bamboo-shaped steel in his hand,

  He stirred up a gale around him as he walked.

  At birth he had been a creature of the waters,

  But he left his native stream and turned to evil.

  If you would like to know the true name of this spirit,

  He used to be called the Little Alligator.

  “Who's that beating at my doors?” the demon roared.

  “I'll get you, you ignorant damned devil,” said F
riar Sand. “Deceitful monster, disguising a yourself as a boatman and rowing over to snatch my master. Give him back at once and I'll spare your life.” The demon roared with laughter at this.

  “Monk, you're throwing your life away,” said the monster. “Your master's mine now, and I'm going to steam him for a feast. Come here and see if you can beat me. If you can hold out for three rounds I'll give you your master back; but if you can't I'll cook you with him and you can forget all about going to the Western Heaven.”

  Friar Sand was now in a towering rage, and he swung at the monster's head with his staff, which the monster parried with his flail. The pair of them had a fine underwater battle:

  The demon-quelling staff and the bamboo-link flail;

  Two angry contenders fighting for mastery.

  The millennial monster of the Black River,

  And a former immortal from the Hall of Miraculous Mist.

  One was greedy for Sanzang's flesh,

  The other longed to save the Tang Priest's life.

  As they fought beneath the waters

  There was no way they both could succeed.

  Frightened shrimps and fishes shook their heads and hid;

  Crabs and turtles withdrew into their shells.

  Then with a roll of drums the water palace demons

  Joined in the fight and yelled before the gates.

  The splendid monk, the true Friar Sand,

  Stood all alone and let them see his might.

  As they plunged through the waves no victor emerged;

  Flail and staff were evenly matched.

  All this was because the Tang Priest wanted

  To visit the Buddha and fetch the scriptures.

  When they had fought thirty rounds without result Friar Sand thought, “This monster is as good a fighter as I am. I'm not going to be able to beat him. I'll have to lure him out for Monkey to kill.” Friar Sand then pretended to drop his guard and took to his heels trailing his staff behind him.

 

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