Monkey (48 page)

Tripitaka was sorely taken aback to discover himself standing upon solid ground. Pigsy roared with laughter. ‘If ever there was a case of “more haste, less speed” 1’ he said.

‘I call it very considerate,’ said Sandy. ‘No doubt they thought that we weren’t used to travelling so fast, and would like a rest.’

‘Well,’ said Monkey, ‘the proverb says “sit tight for ten days, and in one day you’ll shoot nine rapids “.’

‘Will you stop talking nonsense,’ said Tripitaka, ‘and devote your ingenuity to discovering where we are.’

‘I know, I know,’ said Sandy, looking about him. ‘Just listen to that sound of water 1’

‘It makes Sandy feel at home,’ said Monkey. ‘If it makes him feel at home,’ said Pigsy, ‘it must be the River of Flowing Sands. That’s where he belongs.’

‘Not atall,’said Sandy,’it’sthe River that Flows to Heaven.’ ‘Disciple,’ said Tripitaka, ‘go up on to the bank and have a look.’

Monkey sprang up and shading his eyes with his hand, closely inspected the river. ‘Master,’ he reported, ‘this is the western shore of the River that Flows to Heaven.’

‘I remember now,’ cried Tripitaka. ‘On the other side is Mr Ch’en’s farm. When we passed this way, you saved the boy and girl. They were very grateful to us and wanted to make you a boat. In the end, a white turtle took us across. I remember that on this side there are no houses at all. How are we to manage this time ?’

‘A dirty trick like this would not surprise one if one were dealing with ordinary people,’ said Pigsy. ‘But it’s a bit too much, coming from Buddha’s own particular henchmen. He told them to take us straight back to the east. What do they mean by dropping us in the middle of the journey ? They’ve left us in a bit of a fix!’

‘I don’t know what you two are grumbling about,’ said Sandy. ‘The Master is now no longer a common mortal. We saw his earthly body float by us down the Cloud River. There’s no fear of his sinking this time. With all three of us to assist him, it would be strange if he couldn’t get across.’

Monkey smiled to himself. ‘It’s not going to be so easy as all that,’ he said. Why did he say it was not going to be so easy ? If it had been merely a question of possessing sufficient magic powers, all four of them could easily enough have floated across a thousand such rivers. But Monkey knew that the number ‘nine times nine’ was not yet fulfilled and that Buddha’s inexorable will decreed for them yet another calamity. They were all walking slowly along the shore, discussing the situation as they went, when suddenly they heard a voice cry, ‘Priest of T’ang, Priest of T’ang, come over here.’ As no one was to be seen in the vicinity and there was no boat on the river, they were much astonished. But in a moment they caught sight of a large white head. The White Turtle was nearing the shore.

‘I’ve been waiting for you all this time,’ he said, craning his neck.

‘We are very glad to meet you,’ said Monkey, ‘come a little closer in.’

The turtle then sidled up to the bank and Monkey led the horse on to its broad back. Pigsy squatted behind its tail, Tripitaka stood on one side of its head, Sandy on the other. Monkey stood with one foot on its neck and the other on its head. ‘Now then, old turtle,’ he cried, ‘go steadily,’ and the turtle set off smoothly and easily across the waters, carrying the whole company uneventfully till evening fell and they had almost reached the far side. Suddenly the turtle said, ‘When I took you across last time I asked you to find out from Buddha how long it will be before I attain to human form. Did you remember to ask ?’ Unfortunately Tripitaka had been so much taken up with his own affairs – losing his mortal body, going up the Holy Mountain, meeting Buddha and all the Bod-hisattvas and bands of the faithful, taking over the scriptures, and so on, that he had no time to think of anything else, and had quite forgotten to ask about the turtle’s prospects. Not daring to tell a downright lie, he hemmed and hawed, without giving any definite answer. The turtle saw at once that he had not asked and, much annoyed, dived straight down into the water, leaving the four pilgrims, the horse, and the scriptures floundering in the stream. It was lucky for Tripitaka
that he had discarded his mortal frame and achieved the Way; otherwise he would have gone straight to the bottom. Fortunately, too, the white horse was really a dragon, and Pigsy and Sandy were both at home in the water. Monkey sprang up, and by a great display of his transcendent powers bore the Master safely to the shore. But the scriptures and all their other belongings got wet through.

They had climbed the bank and were getting things straight when a great wind began to blow, the sky became black, lightning flashed, and sand and grit whirled up in their faces. Tripitaka clutched the scripture-pack, Sandy clung to his packet, while Pigsy hung on to the white horse. Monkey meanwhile brandished his cudgel in both hands, now to one side now to the other. The storm was the outward sign of the invisible demons who were attempting to snatch away the Scriptures. Their attacks continued all night; but towards daybreak at last subsided. Tripitaka, soaked to the skin, was trembling from head to foot.

‘Monkey, what does all this mean ?’ he asked.

‘You do not seem to realize the immensity of our task,’ said Monkey, ‘in enabling you to secure these scriptures. We have incurred the envy of every spirit in heaven and earth; for our undying feat trespasses on the domain of their sovereign powers. They have been making every endeavour to snatch from us what we have gained. Had not the scriptures been wet through, and had you not held them with hands no longer mortal, and had not I kept our hidden foes at bay with this short cudgel, the magic gale would, have blown them away before dawn came and the forces of light again prevailed.’

Tripitaka and the rest then realized what had been afoot, and thanked Monkey for his protection.

When the sun was well up, they carried the scriptures on to a flat place above the bank and spread them out to dry. Till now the place is called ‘The Rock Where Scriptures Were Dried’. They also dried their shoes and clothes. They were looking through the scriptures to see if they were all dry, when they saw some fishermen coming along the shore, among whom were some who seemed to recognize them.

‘Ate not you the reverend gentlemen who went across the river to fetch scriptures from India ?’ they said.

“That’s right,’ said Pigsy. ‘Where do you come from, and how is it that you recognized us ?’

‘We are from Mr Ch’en’s farm,’ said the fishermen.

‘How far off is it ?’ asked Pigsy.

‘If you went about twenty leagues straight south from here you would come to it,’ they said.

‘Let’s take the scriptures and dry them properly at the farm,’ said Pigsy. ‘There is much to be gained by going there. We can sit down comfortably for a bit, get something to eat, and ask the people there to wring out our clothes.’

‘I’m not going,’ said Tripitaka. ‘We can dry the scriptures very well here, and then we’ll collect them and start off again.’

Meanwhile the fishermen, who had started for home, happened to meet the younger Mr Ch’ên.

‘Master,’ they cried out, ‘the priests who did away with the child-sacrifice here have come back.’

‘Where did you see them ?’ he asked.

‘They are drying some scrolls on that rock there,’ said the fishermen. Mr Ch’en, accompanied by some of his farm labourers, hurried towards the spot, and when he reached them he fell down upon his knees, crying, ‘I see that you have got your scriptures and are returning in triumph. I feel rather hurt that instead of coming and visiting us you should be loitering about here. Pray come home with me at once.’

‘Wait till our scriptures are dry, and we’ll come home with you,’ said Monkey.

‘I see that all your clothes, as well as your scriptures, are wet,’ said Mr Ch’en. ‘What has been happening to you?’

Tripitaka told him of his unfortunate failure to remember the White Turtle’s commission, and how this had led to their all being flung into the water. Mr Ch’en pressed them very hard to come home with him, and in the end Tripitaka gave in. When they were collecting the scriptures, several scrolls of the Lalitavistara stuck to the rock, and a piece got torn, from the end of the last scroll. That is why the Lalitavistara as we have it today is incomplete, and why there are still
traces of writing on the Rock Where the Scriptures Were Dried.

Tripitaka was much upset. ‘I am afraid this was very careless of us,’ he said. ‘We ought to have gone slower and taken more trouble.’

‘You have no reason to get into such a state about it,’ said Monkey. “These scriptures are now just as intact as they were intended to be. Heaven and Earth themselves are not more complete. The part now broken off contained a secret refinement of doctrine that was not meant for transmission, and no care on your part could have prevented this accident.’

When the scriptures had been collected, they all set out for the farm. The news of their arrival spread with astonishing rapidity and they were met by everyone in the place, young and old. As soon as he heard of the pilgrims’ arrival, the elder Mr Ch’ln ordered an incense-stand to be set up, and awaited them at the gate. He also ordered music to be made, and to the accompaniment of flutes and drums led them in. He then told the whole household to come one by one and pay their respects to the benefactors who had saved the children from destruction. After this, tea and refreshments were brought in.

Tripitaka, since he had discarded his mortal body and become a Buddha and received magic viands from the Tathagata’s table, had evinced little taste for earthly food. It was only at the urgent instance of the two old men that he was persuaded to make some show of tasting what was put before him. Monkey, who in any case never ate cooked food, soon pushed his plate from him. Sandy too ate very little. Even Pigsy did not eat with anything like the zest that he had shown the last time they were here.

‘Fool,’ said Monkey, ‘you are not doing yourself justice.’

‘I don’t know why it is,’ said Pigsy. ‘I’ve been a bit off my feed lately.’

The tables were cleared, and Tripitaka told the whole story of their adventures, from the time they reached Paradise down to the attempts of unseen demons to seize the scriptures. Then he made to go; but the old men would not hear of it. ‘We could think of no better way of showing our gratitude,’ they said, ‘than by setting up a shrine, which we
call the Temple of Deliverance, where we continually burn incense in your honour.’ After War Boy and the girl Load of Gold had been sent for and had kow-towed their gratitude, the pilgrims were invited to come and look at the shrine. On the upper floor were four statues, representing Tripitaka, Monkey, Pigsy, and Sandy.

‘Yours is very like,’ said Pigsy, nudging Monkey.

‘I think yours is a wonderful likeness too,’ said Sandy to Pigsy, ‘but the Master’s really makes him out a little too handsome.’

‘I think it’s very good,’ said Tripitaka.

On going down, they found more refreshments waiting for them in one of the cloisters. ‘By the way, what has become of the Great King’s shrine ?’ asked Monkey.

‘We pulled it down,’ they said. ‘But so great is your blessed power and protection that since we built this shrine in your honour we have had a bumper harvest every year.’

‘Such blessings come from Heaven,’ said Monkey. ‘We don’t claim to have any hand in it. But we will try henceforth to give you all such protection as we can. Your children and children’s children shall be many, your herds shall give easy birth, the winds and rains shall come in due season.’

The people thanked him again, and once more offerings of fruit and cake of every kind came pouring in from all sides.

‘It’s bad luck on me,’ said Pigsy. ‘In the old days when I really had some appetite, no one thought of pressing victuals on me. But today when I eat next to nothing, they swarm round me, pressing on one another’s heels, and beg me to stuff myself. I suppose I musn’t be rude...’ And to spare their feelings he managed, without undue violence to his inside, to get through eight or nine dishes of vegetables and twenty or thirty pasties. They were still egging him on, when Tripitaka said, ‘I don’t know how you have managed to make yourself so popular. I think it would be better to call a halt for the present. Your friends can continue their attentions tomorrow morning.’ It was now late in the night. Tripitaka did not dare leave the scriptures for a minute, and mounted watch over them in the lower part of the shrine. Just before the third watch he whispered, ‘Monkey, the people here
know that we have mastered the secrets of the Way. It is said “The Adept does not reveal himself; if he reveals himself, he is not an Adept.” I am afraid that if we stay here too long, our secrets may be wormed out of us.’

‘I agree with you,’ said Monkey. ‘We had better creep away quickly, while it is still night and eveyone is asleep.

Pigsy was no longer a fool, Sandy had attained to perfect discretion, and the white horse was well able to see the point of an argument. So they all got up and prepared to start. When they got to the main gate of the shrine, they found it locked. But Monkey used a lock-breaking magic and they were soon through the double gates, and seeking the road to the east. Suddenly came the voices of the eight Vajrapanis, crying from up above in the air, ‘Now then! Where are you off to ? Follow us!’ Tripitaka smelt a great gust of perfumed wind, which caught him and bore him up into the air.

And if you want to know how he met the king of T’ang you must listen to what is told in the next chapter.