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

“What do you mean, split it?” asked Friar Sand.

“Divide it,” said Pig. “You can go back to the River of Flowing Sands to be a monster, and I'll go back to Gao Village to see my wife. We can sell the white horse to buy the wood for the coffin the master will be needing when he grows old. Then we can break up instead of going on to the Western Heaven.”

When Sanzang heard this he said, “How can you talk such nonsense in the middle of the journey?”

“Who's talking nonsense? I'll say it again,” said Pig. “Can't you see that Monkey's coming back in tears? He's a real tough guy who isn't afraid of going down into the earth or up into the sky, or of being cut, burnt, or even being boiled in oil, so if he comes along deep in gloom and with the tears streaming down his face there must be monsters and wolves on this craggy mountain that softies like us could never get past.”

“Stop that nonsense,” said Sanzang. “I'll ask him what he has to say. Tell me straight,” he said to Monkey, “what is bothering you. Why are you crying? Are you trying to frighten us?”

“The person who gave us the message just now,” replied Monkey, “was the Duty God of the Day. He said that the evil spirits here are so ferocious that it will be hard to get through; besides, we'll never be able to make our way across these steep mountains. Let's go another day.”

Trembling with fear at this news, Sanzang tugged at Monkey's tigerskin kilt and said, “Why these thoughts of turning back when we've already done half the journey?”

“It's not that I'm wavering,” said Monkey, “but we'd be no match for so many monsters. 'A lump of iron in the furnace can only make a few nails.'”

“You are right,” said Sanzang, “it would be very difficult by yourself. As the military classic says, 'few are no match for many'. But I also have Pig and Friar Sand for you to deploy as your subordinates. Make a joint effort to clear the path and take me over the mountain. Then you will receive your just reward.”

As Brother Monkey's little show had only wrung these words out of his master, he wiped away his tears and said, “Pig will have to do two things I tell him to if you're to have even one chance in three of crossing the mountain as you want to, Master. If he won't do these two things for me you'll have no hope at all.”

“Brother,” Pig said, “if we can't cross the mountain, let's disband. Leave me out of this.”

“Disciple,” said Sanzang, “ask your brother what he wants you to do.”

“What do you want me to do, brother?” the idiot asked.

“Look after the master and patrol the mountains,” Monkey replied.

“But looking after the master means staying put,” said Pig, “and patrolling means moving. You can't ask me to stay put for a bit then move for a bit. I can't do both at once.”

“I'm not asking you to do them both,” said Monkey, “I just want you to do one of them.”

“That's much easier,” said Pig with a smile, “though I don't know what you mean by looking after the master or by patrolling the mountains. Tell me what you want, then I can do the one that suits me.”

“Looking after the master,” said Monkey, “means that if he wants to go for a stroll you must support him, and if he wants to eat you must beg some food for him. If he's hungry you'll be beaten. If he looks at all sallow you'll be beaten. If he's any thinner you'll be beaten.”

“That's very difficult,” said Pig with alarm. “There's nothing to looking after him or holding him up-even carrying him would be easy enough. But if he sends me to beg for food in a village the people on this path to the West won't realize that I'm a monk going to fetch the scriptures. They'll think that I'm a growing wild boar come down from the mountains. A crowd of men with forks, rakes and brooms will surround me, capture me, slaughter me, and salt me down for the New Year celebrations. That would be the end of me, wouldn't it?”

“Then you can patrol the mountains,” said Brother Monkey.

“What would that involve?” asked Pig.

“You would have to go into these mountains,” said Monkey, “to find out how many monsters there are, and all about the mountains, and what the monsters' caves are like, so that we can go across it.”

“Nothing to it,” replied Pig. “I'll patrol the mountains.” The idiot hitched up his tunic, grasped his rake, and proudly struck deep into the mountains. His spirits were high as he hurried along the path.

Monkey could not hold back an unkind laugh. “Wretched ape,” said Sanzang, “you haven't a shred of affection for your brothers, only jealousy. You trick him into patrolling the mountain with your cunning words, and then you laugh at him.”

“I'm not laughing at him,” said Monkey. “My laugh means something. Just you see-he won't patrol the mountains or dare to visit any monsters. He'll hide up somewhere for a while then make up some story to fool us with.”

“How do you know so much about him?” asked Sanzang.

“It's what I reckon he'll do,” replied Monkey “and if you don't believe me I'll go and take a look at him. I can help him subdue any demons and find out at the same time how sincere is his wish to see the Buddha.”

“Very good,” said Sanzang, “very good. But don't you go making a fool of him.” Monkey assented, and as he hurried up the mountainside he turned himself into the tiniest of insects with a shake of his body. He now looked very neat and small:

On his delicate wings he could lightly dance in the breeze;

His slim waist was as fine as a needle.

As he darted through the reeds or passed under flowers

He was faster than a shooting star.

Bright were his eyes,

Delicate his voice.

Of all insects he was the smallest,

Slim and elegant, but deeply clever.

If he were resting in the woods on a day off,

You would never see him,

And a thousand eyes could never find him.

He flew off, soon caught up with Pig, and perched on a bristle behind his ear; but Pig walked on, unaware that he was carrying a passenger. After two or three miles Pig dropped his rake, turned back to look at the Tang Priest, and began to curse at him, gesticulating widely.

“Soft-headed old monk,” he said, “vicious Monkey, and weak-minded Friar Sand. They're all enjoying themselves back there while they fool me into walking off here. We're all going to fetch the scriptures and we all want our reward, so why should I be the one to reconnoiter these mountains? Hm! If they know there are monsters around we should hide up for a while. But that's not even half good enough for them. They have to send me off by myself to find them. What lousy luck. I'll go and have a sleep somewhere. When I go back I can give him some kind of vague answer and say I've reconnoitered the mountains. That'll pay them back.”

Feeling pleased with himself for the moment Pig grasped his rake and set off. When he saw a reddish grassy slope in a mountain hollow he went straight to it, made himself a bed with the help of his rake, and lay down to sleep, saying as he stretched himself out, “This is the life. Not even Monkey can be as comfortable as I am.” Monkey, of course, had heard every word form behind his ear, and he could not resist the temptation to fly round and tease him. He shook himself and turned into a woodpecker.

His sharp iron beak was coloured red,

His green-blue feathers were glistening bright.

His steel claws were as sharp as nails,

And when hungry he broke the forest silence.

Dry and rotten timber was what he loved;

He hated lone and sturdy old trees.

His round eyes and flicking tail made him a lively creature,

And pleasant was the sound of his tapping.