Wu Cheng-en - Journey to the West (vol. 1)

“Marshals Ma and Liu and Generals Ben and Ba,” they replied, “are still in command.”

“Then tell them that I'm here,” said Monkey.

The junior fiends rushed in to report, “His Majesty the Great Sage has come home.” As soon as they heard this Ma, Liu, Ben and Ba rushed out to kowtow and welcome him into the cave.

The Great Sage sat in the middle of it, with his fiendish hosts prostrating themselves before him and asking, “Why have you come back to your mountain instead of going to the West, Your Majesty? We heard recently that you had come back to life and were escorting the Tang Priest to fetch scriptures from the Western Heaven.”

“What you don't know, my little ones,” said Monkey, “is that Sanzang can't tell a good man when he sees one. I captured monsters and demons for him all along the way, and I used every one of my magical powers to kill evil spirits for him. But he called me a murderer and wouldn't have me as his disciple any longer. He sent me back here and gave me a letter of dismissal to certify that he'll never employ me again.”

All the monkeys clapped their hands for joy. “What luck,” they said, “what luck. Now you're home again after being some kind of monk or other, you can be our leader for the next few years.”

“Lay on some coconut toddy at once to welcome His Majesty back,” someone ordered.

“No,” said the Great Sage, “don't let's drink. How often do the hunters come to our mountain?”

“Great Sage,” replied Marshals Ma and Liu, “they come here in all seasons and harass us for days on end.”

“Then why haven't they come today?” Monkey asked.

“They'll be here soon enough,” replied the marshals.

“Little ones,” Monkey ordered, “you are all to go out, gather those broken cinders that were burnt brittle in the fire, and pile them up. I want twenty to thirty or fifty to sixty in a pile. I have a use for them.” Like a swarm of bees the little monkeys rushed around making piles all over the place. When Monkey saw them he said, “Go and hide in the cave, little ones, while I do some magic.”

When the Great Sage went up to the mountain peak to look around he saw over a thousand men with horses approaching from the South. They were beating drums and gongs, and they all had falcons, hounds, swords or spears. Examining them closely the Monkey King saw that they were most menacing-fine lads and brave ones:

With fox skins over their shoulders,

And brocade covering their chests.

Their quivers were full of wolf-fanged arrows,

And carved bows hung by their legs.

The men were like tigers that comb the hills,

The horses like ravine-leaping dragons.

They came in hordes, leading their hounds,

And their arms were packed with falcons.

In thornwood baskets they carried muskets,

And powerful eagles were fastened to their belts.

They had sticky poles by the hundred

And hare forks by the thousand.

Bull-headed fiends blocked the paths with nets,

Demon kings were handling knotted ropes.

As they all roared their ferocious cries

They swarmed over the hill like the stars in the sky.

The Great Sage was furious at the sight of them spreading all over his mountain. He made a spell with his fist, muttered the words that went with it, breathed in a mouthful of air from the quarter that the winds came from, and puffed it out again. It was now a hurricane, a splendid hurricane,

Picking up the dust and earth,

Blowing down trees and whole forests.

Waves reared up as high as mountains,

As they beat in thousands upon the shore.

Heaven and Earth were thrown into gloom,

Sun and moon cast into darkness.

One gust shook the pines with a tiger's roar,

Howling like a dragon as it rushed through the bamboos.

Heaven belched angrily through all its orifices,

As flying dirt and stones brought injury and death.

The hurricane that the Great Sage had called up made the piles of broken stone whirl wildly around, and the thousand men with their horses were reduced to a pathetic state.

The aconite was smashed to pieces by the stones,

While the flying dirt injured all the sea horses.

Ginseng and cassia were in panic by the ridge,

And blood stained the cinnabar ground.

The aconite was stranded away from home,

The betel-nut could not return to its own town.

Corpses lay scattered like powder on the mountainside

Leaving the red lady waiting anxiously at home.

As another poem says,

With men and horses all dead, they could not go back-

Ghosts and lonely spirits in terrible confusion.

Alas that the martial and heroic generals

Should bleed in the sand for trusting fools.

Bringing his cloud down, the Great Sage clapped his hands and laughed aloud. “What luck,” he said, “what luck. Ever since I submitted to the Tang Priest and became a monk, he was always telling me 'if you do good for a thousand days you still won't have done enough, but if you do ill for one day that will be too much.' How true it was. I killed a few evil spirits when I was with him and he regarded me as a murderer; and now I've come home I've wiped out all these hunters.”

“Come out, little ones,” he shouted, and now that the hurricane was over and the Great Sage had called them, the monkeys came bounding out one after the other. “Go and strip the clothes off the dead hunters at the foot of the Southern mountain,” he said, “bring them back here, and wash the bloodstains out. Then you can wear them to keep warm. Push all the corpses into the pool that's ten thousand fathoms deep, and when you've dragged all the dead horses here, strip off their hides to make into boots, and pickle their flesh-it'll feed us for a long time. I'll give you all those bows, arrows, spears and swords for you to practice your military skills with. And bring me back all those many coloured flags and banners for us to use.” The monkeys all accepted his orders.

The Great Sage had the banners unstitched and washed, then put them all together as one multicolored banner which bore the legend, Great Sage Equaling Heaven, Restorer of the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, Recreator of the Water Curtain Cave. They hung the banner from a pole outside the cave, and for days on end he invited demons and held gatherings of the wild beasts. He accumulated provisions, and the word “monk” was never mentioned. As he was so generous and his powers so great he was able to go and borrow some sweet magic waters from the dragon kings of the four seas with which to bathe the mountain and make it green again. In front of it he planted elms and willows, and behind it pines and cedars; he also put in peaches, greengages, jujubes, and plums. Thus he led a happy and carefree life.

Let us return to the Tang Priest, who had trusted the word of crafty Nature and dismissed the Mind Ape. He climbed into his saddle, and with Pig leading the way and Friar Sand carrying the luggage they carried on Westwards. After crossing the White Tiger Ridge they saw a range of forested hills of which it could truthfully be said that creepers climbed and twisted among the bluish cypresses and green pines.

“Disciples,” said Sanzang, “this rough mountain path is very hard going, and we must be careful in the dense pine forests ahead as I'm afraid there may be evil spirits and monsters.” At this the idiot Pig summoned up his spirits and, telling Friar Sand to guide the horse, cleared a path with his rake along which he led the Tang Priest into the forest. As they were going along, the venerable Sanzang reined in his horse and said to Pig, “I'm really starving today. Is there anywhere you could find some food for me?”

“Please dismount, master,” Pig replied, “and wait here while I go and find some.” Sanzang dismounted, while Friar Sand put down his load, took out his begging bowl, and handed it to Pig. “I'm off,” said Pig, and when asked by Sanzang where he was going he replied, “Don't let that bother you. I'll beg you some food even if it's like cutting through ice to get fire, or even if it means squeezing oil out of snow.”