TUN-HUANG (22 page)

Hsing-te instructed the men to pack all the sutras in the storeroom in boxes by evening so that they could be easily loaded onto camels, then to bring those boxes to the loading area and not to breathe a word about the contents to the camel drivers. The three monks, with several new helpers, proceeded to carry the sacred scrolls from the ancient building to the open space that was now bathed in the white winter sun.

Watching the men at their work, Hsing-te departed and went once more to the palace. He met again with Yen-hui, who remained sitting apathetically. Through the ruler’s intervention, Hsing-te was led to the conference room where the abbots had been meeting for the past few days.

Hsing-te dismissed his guide at the entrance of the room and opened the door. A strange sight met his eyes. Several monks were lying on the floor in various postures. They appeared to have collapsed, but they were not dead—only in deep slumber.

Hsing-te woke an abbot lying near-the entrance and explained the measures he had planned to save the Buddhist scriptures and asked the abbot’s opinion. The abbot, who appeared to be a man of almost seventy, replied that, as Hsing-te could see, the monks were all asleep. They would sleep until evening and then would continue their meeting. At the evening conference he would present Hsing-te’s proposal and ask the opinion of the others. Also, since the number of abbots from the seventeen temples had gone down to five, their view would represent those of only five temples and not seventeen. He wanted Hsing-te to know this in advance. The five temples of the remaining five abbots were the Kai-yuan, Kan-yuan, Lung-hsing, Ching-t’u and Pao-en temples. Over five hundred monks, nuns, and Buddhist novices had already left the city.

Hsing-te apologized for disturbing the elder’s sleep and left immediately. He realized now that, except for the Great Cloud Temple, it might be days before the temple storerooms could be opened up.

After that, Hsing-te stayed at the North Gate headquarters until evening. In a room in an empty home nearby, he took up a brush to copy the Heart Sutra. He was offering this hand copy of the holy sutra for the repose of the Uighur princess’s soul. Hsing-te planned to store this, with the scrolls and documents from the Great Cloud Temple, in a secret cache in the Thousand Buddha Caves. Because there was so little time left, he had selected the Heart Sutra. Partly as a remembrance of his youth, he also translated it into Hsi-hsia as he copied it.

Hsing-te interrupted his work only once. At dusk the first communication had arrived from Wang-li, who had left that morning. The message revealed that the enemy and allies were presently confronting each other at a distance of about eighteen miles. Neither side was moving its troops. At this rate, if fighting should start, it would probably not be until after dawn the following morning. The instructions were to evacuate all non-military personnel from the walled town and to be prepared to set fire to Sha-chou any time. In the event that the allies were losing the battle, Hsing-te’s troops were to set fire to the city and so leave the enemy at the mercy of the bitter cold of the plains.

After Hsing-te had dismissed Wang-li’s messenger, he again took up his brush and lost himself in copying the sutra. The town was practically uninhabited by this time, and the atmosphere was unsettling, as no one knew when the fighting would begin. For Hsing-te, however, this was a tranquil period. From a window in his room he could see a large flock of birds at the edge of the sky migrating to the south like specks of dust.

After he had finished copying the sutra, Hsing-te added the following note:

Only when he had written the words “young girl of Kanchou” did he momentarily set aside his brush. The image of the Uighur princess as she fell from the high walls at Kanchou vividly returned to Hsing-te for an instant. The girl’s face was fairer than it had actually been, her hair had a brownish cast, and she was rather thin. The years had changed her in Hsing-te’s mind.

The sun had set below the desert horizon. In the crimson afterglow, a cloud floated, resembling the head of a yak; then its form and color slowly changed. The blinding crimson with its golden overtones gradually turned to orange, to vermilion, and finally to a light purple. When the evening dusk absorbed that purple, Hsing-te left his headquarters and mounted his camel. He cut across the center of the square to reach the place where he was to meet Kuang. Through the dusk he could see men and animals bustling about. Loading had already begun. As he approached, he saw men working frenetically near the camels, and from time to time he heard the fierce, angry tones of Kuang’s voice.

Hsing-te went directly toward him. Whenever Kuang saw his workers stumble the least bit under their heavy loads, he lashed out at them. Then he finally turned to Hsing-te, saying curtly, “The moon is out tonight.”

Hsing-te remained silent, as he was not sure of the significance of these words.

Kuang continued, “In any case, we’ll probably have to make two trips to transport these goods. It would have been terrible if there was no moon, but luckily it’s out.”

Just as he said, the pale round moon, still dull in the dusk, hung in the center of the heavens. Despite his harsh words to the workers, it was evident, as Kuang turned to Hsing-te, that he was in the best of moods.

“Is this everything?” Hsing-te asked, as he watched the mountainous pile of variously shaped packages disappear with the aid of the camel men.

“That’s what I should ask you. Are there any more?” Kuang returned the question. “If there are, bring as much as you like. As long as I accept them, I’ll guarantee the safety of a hundred, even a thousand boxes. All we have to do is to make more secret holes. The rest is just transportation.”

“There are more things, but we’ll need more time to get the rest ready,” said Hsing-te.

“We’ll leave the rest for later. We’ll make one trip with what we have here,” Kuang replied. Then he asked, as if the thought had suddenly occurred to him, “By the way, what’s inside these boxes?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t present when each one was packed. In any case, there’s no mistake about the fact that they contain valuables.”

“Are there jewels, too?”

“Naturally, they must be included. Not that I’ve seen any, but I’m sure there must be some. There are probably all types of jewels inside—turquoise, amber, porcelain and blood jade. In any case, I’ve promised not to open them. Don’t you touch them, either.”

“All right,” Kuang muttered.

Just then, two horses carrying more crates arrived. The three young monks from the Great Cloud Temple followed. Hsing-te left Kuang, went to the three priests and asked, “Is this all?”

“Just about,” the eldest monk replied. He then explained that at first they had packed the selected scriptures, but as they became pressed for time, they had put in everything within reach. He added that various documents besides the sutras were included. Hsing-te repeated to the three monks that no matter what happened, they were not to reveal the contents of the boxes. Then he requested that they accompany him until the goods were all stored. That had been the monks’ original intention; each claimed that he planned to follow the sacred scrolls anywhere.

Hsing-te returned to Kuang and informed him that three monks would accompany them.

“I won’t allow it. I don’t mind your coming along, but the others will get in the way.” Kuang refused, but quickly reconsidered. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take them along. After we get there, we’ll have to return immediately to pick up the next load, so I’ll use them to stand guard over the unloaded goods.”

Kuang really did not want anyone else to have anything to do with this work, but from a practical standpoint, each additional man was welcome. He did not mention it, but Hsing-te knew the number of his men had diminished since the previous day. The hundred camels Kuang had boasted of were now reduced to almost half that number, and the fifty camel men had also been lessened by half. Apparently, the rest had run off.

When the loading was almost complete and the time of departure was approaching, Hsing-te turned once more to his headquarters and entrusted the command of his troops to the middle-aged, hare-lipped commander whom Wang-li had left especially to assist him. No one could tell what might occur while he was away, but whatever did, it was evident the hare-lipped warrior was superior to him as a field commander.

By the time Hsing-te had returned to the square, the caravan of heavily loaded camels was about to leave by the East Gate—the same gate through which Wang-li’s troops had departed that morning. The major portion of the goods had been loaded; only a small number of boxes were left.

Kuang rode the fifth camel from the lead, and Hsing-te led his camel into the line right behind Kuang. The three young monks were assigned positions in the rear. As a leader, Kuang appeared to Hsing-te much more impressive than usual. He had loaded on his sixty camels the accumulated wealth of many generations of the Ts’ao dynasty, which had long held sway in the western regions. At least, Kuang thought so. That belief gave him an expression of such arrogance that it was almost pitiful. At no other time had Kuang appeared so strongly a descendant of the Wei-ch’ih royal house as now.

As soon as they had passed through the city gate, the moon suddenly became brighter, and the cold night air cut through them. The caravan headed eastward, bathed in the moonlight.

After passing over three miles of fields, the caravan reached the banks of the Tang River. The river was frozen, and the withered reeds that grew all over the area looked as if they had pierced the ice. The group crossed the river and continued eastward along a canal for some time. The road curved toward the south; the fields ended around here and the men entered the desert. On the sandy plains, the shadows cast by the caravan suddenly became darker. Neither Kuang nor Hsing-te uttered a word. Hsing-te once turned to look back.

The caravan, each camel loaded with large and small boxes divided equally on either side, proceeded silently in single file beneath the moon. When Hsing-te reflected on the fact that the boxes contained sacred scrolls and documents, the camel caravan behind him suddenly seemed rather strange. There was something moving about the sight of sixty large beasts, each loaded down with scrolls and documents, advancing across the moon-bathed desert, but Hsing-te could not define why it was so. He wondered whether it might be that he had been wandering around the frontier regions for years just for this night.

The caravan finally reached the banks of a tributary of the Tang River. This was also completely frozen over, but they did not cross, and traveled along its banks. The road would take them directly to the Thousand Buddha Caves.

They followed the river for seven miles. The bitterly cold wind increased in ferocity, and now and then dust clouds flew up from the camel’s feet. In the darkness, the men could not see the dust, but they could feel the sand particles as they hit their faces. With each gust of wind, the camels turned to one side, and thus progress was very slow.

The caravan finally reached the foot of the Ming-sha mountains, where the Thousand Buddha Caves were located. By that time, Hsing-te was thoroughly chilled and numb all over.

“We’ve arrived!” As soon as Kuang brought his camel to a halt, he jumped to the ground. In heavy fur clothing, he lifted his hand to his mouth and whistled, whereupon all the men alighted from their camels.

Hsing-te looked toward the hill, which rose high in front of him, its slopes running from north to south. In the hill, he could see numerous large and small square-shaped grottoes. Some were clustered in groups, while others were single caves twice the height of the others. The surface of the hill appeared bluish black in the moonlight; only the caves themselves were as dark as eye sockets.

Without resting, the camel men immediately set to work unloading the goods. Kuang called out to Hsing-te, “Follow me.” Kuang left the group and began to walk off alone. The Thousand Buddha Caves were directly in front of the two men. They had only to walk up an incline of approximately twelve feet, but the climb was not easy as the sand gave way beneath them. They scaled the slope and arrived in front of a cave.

“The largest hole is in this cave. It’s to the right of the entrance, so it’s easy to locate. If it’s not enough, I’ve located three or four other holes nearby.” Kuang began to walk again, but stopped and said, “You won’t have any need for the other holes right now. Now listen, I’ll leave about ten men with you, so have them and the monks help carry in the goods. I have to leave.”

Kuang started down the hill. Hsing-te decided to look over the secret hiding-place later and returned with Kuang to the camels. The unloading had already been completed. The camel men had piled the crates in one place.

After Kuang had selected the ten men to remain behind and ordered them to follow Hsing-te’s instructions, he told the other camel drivers to start to leave and mounted his camel. Kuang was about to take all the camels with him, but Hsing-te requested that he leave at least four or five. Kuang would not consent, but grudgingly agreed to spare him one.