Monkey (42 page)

‘If he sends you rain,’ said Monkey, ‘he is your good friend. How comes it that you show such distress when you speak of him?’

‘Because,’ said the old man, beating his breast, ‘though his favours are many, he is a wrathful deity, and as the price of his
blessings he demands each year the sacrifice of a boy or girl.’

‘And he devours them ?’ asked Monkey.

‘Alas, he does,’ said the old man.

‘I suppose your family too has had to take its turn,’ said Monkey.

‘Alas,’ said the old man beating his breast, ‘I and my brother here are both badly off for children. At the age of fifty I still had no child. My friends urged me to take a concubine, and at last, very unwillingly, I consented and a girl was born. She is now in her eighth year and is called Load of Gold.’

‘A fine name,’ said Pigsy.’ How came she by it ?’

‘Finding myself childless,’ said he, ‘I repaired bridges and roads, built temples and towers, gave alms, and entertained priests. I kept an account of all I spent, and what with one thing and another, by the time my daughter was born, I had spent more than thirty catties of gold. Thirty catties make a load, and that is why she was called Load of Gold.’

‘And your brother ?’ said Monkey.

‘He too has only one child,’ said the old man, ‘a boy called War Boy.’

‘How did he get such a name ?’ asked Monkey.

‘There is a statue of the God of War in his house,’ said the old man, ‘and because he had prayed to this god before this child was born it is called War Boy. The joint age of us two brothers is over a hundred and twenty. Yet we only have these two children between us. But now it is our family’s turn to provide the victims, and we dare not demur. It was for the welfare of these children’s souls that we held this ceremony.’

On hearing this unhappy tale Tripitaka could not refrain from tears.

‘Let me ask him a question,’ said Monkey. ‘Old man, have you a considerable amount of property ?’

‘I have forty or fifty acres of paddy,’ said he, ‘sixty or seventy acres of dry field and eighty or ninety pasture fields. Then I have two or three hundred water buffaloes, some thirty horses and mules, and any number of pigs, sheep, chickens, and geese. I have more grain in my barns than we can get
through and mote silk in my stores than we can wear, and about the house we have everything we could possibly need.’

‘If you are as well off as that,’ said Monkey, ‘it’s a pity you are so economical.’

‘Why do you call me economical ?’ said the old man.

‘If you are as well off as this,’ said Monkey, ‘I cannot understand why you allow your daughter and nephew to be sacrificed. By spending fifty pieces of silver you could buy a girl, and for a hundred pieces you could buy a boy. Would not this be better than losing your own posterity ?’

‘You do not understand,’ said the old man. ‘The God is not so easy to deceive. He often comes to the village and goes about among us.’

“Then you must know what he looks like,’ said Monkey.

‘We don’t see him,’ said he. ‘We only smell a strangely scented wind. That is how we know that he has come. We hasten to burn great quantities of incense, and all of us, young and old, bow down towards this wind. The God knows everything that goes on here, even the exact date at which each of us was born. He would not accept any child that was not ours. Let alone two hundred pieces of silver, not even a thousand or ten thousand pieces could buy two children of exactly the same appearance and age.’

‘That is true,’ said Monkey. ‘But all the same I should very much like to have a look at this boy of yours.’

Ch’en Ch’ing, the old man’s brother, hurried in, and bringing out the child War Boy in his arms, set him down in the lamp light. Knowing nothing of the terrible fate that was in store for it, the child capered about, munching at some fruit that it had brought tucked into its wide sleeves. Monkey, after having a look at it, murmured a spell, shook himself, and changed into an exact counterpart of War Boy. The two children joined hands and capered together in the lamp light. The father in his astonishment at the miracle flung himself upon his knees.

‘We are not worthy,’ said Tripitaka.’ Pray, rise!’

‘A moment ago I was talking to him,’ said the old man, ‘and now he has suddenly become the exact image of my
child. When I call, both come running up. This is more than I can bear. Pray go back to your usual form.’

Monkey rubbed his cheek and in a moment had resumed his proper shape. ‘Father,’ said the old man, ‘never would I have believed that such a miracle was possible.’

‘Was 1 like your child ?’ asked Monkey.

‘Like?’ said the old man, ‘I should think you werel Face, voice, height - everything was right.’

‘And weight too,’ said Monkey, ‘as you would have found if you had tested us with the scales.’

‘No doubt, no doubt,’ cried the old man. ‘In weight tool’

‘Do you think I should have been accepted for sacrifice?’ asked Monkey.

‘I don’t doubt it,’ said the old man. ‘Of course you would be accepted.’

‘I am going to save this child’s life, that you may have posterity to burn incense to your soul in time to come. I am ready to be sacrificed to the Great King.’

‘Father,’ said the old man, ‘if you indeed perform this act of compassion, I will give your master a thousand pieces of silver to provide for his further journey to the west.’

‘And won’t you give anything to me ?’ asked Monkey.

‘But you’ll have been sacrificed,’ said he, ‘you won’t be there to receive it.’

‘How do you mean -1 shan’t be there?’ said Monkey.

‘The God will have eaten you,’ said the old man.

‘Do you think he’d dare ?’ said Monkey.

‘If he doesn’t eat you,’ said the old man, ‘it will only be because you smell worse than I believe.’

‘Heaven’s will be done,’ said Monkey. ‘If he eats me, that proves I was meant to die young. If he doesn’t eat me, that’s my luck. Anyway you may sacrifice me.’

Ch’en Ch’ing poured out suitable thanks and added another five hundred pieces of silver to the sum he promised. Meanwhile his brother did not utter a word, but leant against the door, weeping bitterly.

‘I fear you are worrying about your daughter,’ said Monkey, coming up to him.

‘Father,’ said the old man, kneeling in front of him,
‘I cannot part -with her. It is something that my nephew is to be saved. But I have no other child, and if she is taken from me, who will there be to howl at my funeral? How can I give her up?’

‘Go at once and steam another five pecks of rice and prepare some good vegetables. That’s the way to win that long-snouted priest’s heart. He will be only too glad to change himself into your girl, or anything else you ask of him. Then we’ll both go and be sacrificed together.’

‘Brother,’ said Pigsy, horrified at this suggestion, ‘you can play with your own life as you please, but you have no right to drag me into the adventure.’

‘Brother,’ said Monkey, ‘the proverb says “Even a chicken must work for its food.” We have both had a sumptuous feast. Instead of complaining that you haven’t been given enough, you ought to be ready to do what you can for these people in their little trouble.’

‘I’m no good at transformations,’ said Pigsy.

‘Nonsense,’ said Monkey, ‘you have thirty-six transformations.’

‘Pigsy,’ said Tripitaka, ‘he’s perfectly right. “To save one life is better than building a seven-storeyed pagoda.” You ought to show your gratitude; and you would be accumulating secret merit into the bargain. You have nothing better to do tonight, and have no excuse for not going with your brother.’

‘You don’t know what you’re saying, Master,’ said Pigsy. ‘I can change into a mountain, a tree, a scabby elephant, a water-buffalo, or a pot-bellied rogue. But changing into a small girl is a much more difficult matter.’

‘Don’t believe him,’ said Monkey, ‘but bring out your child.’

Ch’en hurried into the house and came out carrying the child Load of Gold. With him came his wife and concubine and all the household, banging their heads on the floor and imploring Pigsy to save the child.

The little girl was wearing an emerald fillet with pearl pendants, a red hemp-thread bodice shot with yellow, a green satin coat with a chess-board patterned collar, a plum-blossom  red  silk  skirt,  toad’s-head  patterned  pink
hemp-thread shoes, and gold-kneed raw silk drawers. She, like her cousin, was nibbling at a piece of fruit.

‘Here’s the girl, Pigsy,’ said Monkey. ‘Change quickly into a replica of her, and we’ll go off and be sacrificed.’

‘How am I to look as smart as that ?’ said Pigsy.

‘Make haste,’ said Monkey, ‘or you’ll feel my cudgel.’ The fool wagged his head, muttered a spell, and said ‘Change!’ His head began to change and soon became indistinguishable from that of the child. But his big belly remained just the same and quite spoilt the resemblance.

‘Go on!’ cried Monkey, laughing.

‘You may beat me blue,’ said Pigsy, ‘but I swear I can’t change any further. What’s to be done ?’

‘You can’t stay like that, with a girl’s head and a priest’s belly,’ said Monkey. ‘You’re neither a man nor a woman; it’s a bad mess. I must see what I can do with you.’

He blew upon Pigsy with magic breath and immediately the change was completed, and he became exactly like the child from head to foot. ‘To avoid any mistake, you had better take the real children away,’ said Monkey. ‘Then we shall know where we are. Give them some more fruit, for fear they should start crying. If the Great King heard them, he might come and look into it. Well, now we’re both ready. But how are we served, trussed or tied? And shall we be hashed or boiled ?’

‘Look here, brother,’ said Pigsy, ‘it’s no good trying these tricks on me. All this isn’t in my line at all.’

‘I assure you,’ said Mr Ch’£n, ‘there is no question of trussing or anything of the sort. We use two large red lacquer dishes. We shall ask you to sit in them and they will then be put upon two table tops, and a couple of strong young fellows will carry each of you to the temple.’

‘Excellent,’ said Monkey. ‘Bring the dishes and we’ll take a trial trip, just to see how it goes.’

The old man brought out the dishes, Monkey and Pigsy sat in them, and four young fellows lifted them on to the table-tops, and having taken the victims for a ride round the courtyard, set them down again in the front room.

‘If it was just a question of being carried about like that,’
said Pigsy, ‘I’d be quite content to do it all night. But the idea of being carried to a temple and eaten is not so funny!’

‘All you have got to do is to watch me,’ said Monkey. ‘While he is slicing me up and eating me, you can jump up and run away.’

‘That’s all right if he begins with the boy,’ said Pigsy. ‘But how do we know he isn’t going to begin with the girl?’

‘They always begin with the boy,’ said Mr Ch’en. ‘Once or twice some plucky fellow has hidden at the back of the temple or under a table, and it was always the boy that he saw eaten first.’

‘That’s luck,’ said Pigsy.

While they were talking, there was a great din of gongs and drums outside, and the glow of many lanterns. Someone opened the gate and cried, ‘Bring out the boy and girl!’ The old men burst into loud weeping, while the four strong men carried the two victims away. And if you do not know whether in the end they escaped with their lives, you must listen to what is told in the next chapter.

‘G
REAT
K
ING
, our Father,’ said the worshippers, when all was ready, ‘following our yearly custom, we now offer up to you a male child, War Boy, and a female child, Load of Gold, together with a pig, a sheep, and a due portion of liquor. Grant that the winds may be temperate, that rain may fall in due season and all our crops thrive.’ They then burned paper horses, and returned to their homes.

‘I th’nk I’ll go home too,’ said Pigsy.

‘You haven’t got a home,’ said Monkey.

‘I’ll go to Mr Ch’en’s farm and have a nap,’ said Pigsy.

‘What nonsense the fool talks,’ said Monkey. ‘We have promised to take on this job, and we have got to see it through.’

‘It’s you who are the fool,’ said Pigsy. ‘I thought you were just having a game with him. You don’t mean to say we are really going to be sacrificed ?’

‘We’ve got to do the thing properly,’ said Monkey. ‘In any case, we must wait till the King comes to eat us, or we shall spoil a good start by a poor finish. And if the king finds no victims, he will send plagues and calamities to the village. You surely don’t want that ?’

While they were talking, there suddenly came a great gust of wind. ‘That’s done it!’ said Pigsy. ‘Talk of the devil!’

‘Let me do the talking,’ said Monkey, and in another minute a most horrible apparition appeared at the doors of the temple, with eyes like blazing comets, tusks like the teeth of a huge saw.

‘Well, which family is making the sacrifice this year?’ he asked, halting at the entrance.

‘The family of the two Ch’en,’ said Monkey, ‘if I may make bold to reply.’

The king was puzzled. ‘This boy speaks up uncommonly boldly,’ he said to himself. ‘Usually at the first asking one gets no reply at all. At the second the victim faints with
terror, and by the time I have laid hands on him, he is already dead with fright. It is odd that this child should speak up so boldly.’