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

Further along a strong mountain wind blew a dead tree down and sent it tumbling towards him, at which he stamped, beat his chest and said, “What a way to treat me, brother. I said I wouldn't lie, but you go and turn yourself into a tree to attack me.”

A little later he saw a white-necked crow cawing in front of him. “You're shameless, brother,” he said, “shameless. I meant it when I said I wouldn't lie, so why've you turned into a crow? Come to listen to me?” In fact Monkey was not following him this time, and Pig's crazed suspicions that Monkey was there wherever he went were the product of his own imagination. We will leave the idiot with his frights for the time being.

In this Flat-top Mountain there was a Lotus Flower Cave where there dwelt two fiends, the Senior King Gold Horn and the Junior King Silver Horn. Gold Horn sat in his chair of office and said to Silver Horn, “It's a long time since we patrolled the mountain.”

“A fortnight,” replied Silver Horn.

“You should make a patrol today,” said Gold Horn.

“Why today?” asked Silver Horn.

“You can't have heard the news,” said Gold Horn, “that the Tang Priest, the younger brother of the Tang Emperor in the East, has been sent to worship the Buddha in the West. He has three followers called Sun the Novice, Pig and Friar Sand, so with their horse there are five of them in all. Find them and bring them to me.”

“If we want to eat some humans,” said Silver Horn, “we can catch a few anywhere. Why not let this monk go wherever he's going?”

“You don't realize,” replied Gold Horn, “that when I left Heaven a few years back I heard that the Tang Priest was a mortal incarnation of the Venerable Golden Cicada, and a holy man who had pursued goodness for ten lives and lost not a drop of his original essence. Anyone who eats his flesh will live forever.”

“If you can live for ever by eating his flesh,” said Silver Horn, “we won't have to bother with meditation, winning merit, refinish elixirs, or matching the male and female. All we need do is eat him. I'm off to fetch him.”

“You're too impatient, brother,” said Gold Horn. “Don't be in such a hurry. It would be wrong to rush out and catch some monk who isn't the Tang Priest. I remember what he looks like and I once drew pictures of him and his disciples. Take them with you and check any monks you meet against them.” He went on to tell him all their names, and when Silver Horn had their pictures and knew their names he went out of the cave, mustered thirty underlings, and left to patrol the mountain.

Pig's luck was out. He walked straight into the gang of monsters who blocked his way and said, “Who are you? Where are you from?” The idiot looked up, lifted his ears from over his eyes, and saw to his horror that they were evil ogres.

“If I say I'm a pilgrim,” he thought, “they'll catch me. I'll say I'm just a traveler.” The junior demon reported to the king that he was a traveler. Among the thirty junior demons there were some who had recognized him and some who had not, and one of these who had recognized him remembered Silver Horn being given his instructions.

He said, “This monk looks like Pig in the picture, Your Majesty.”

Silver Horn had the picture hung up, which made Pig think with horror, “No wonder I'm in such low spirits these days-they've got my spirit here.”

As the junior devils held it up with their spears, Silver Horn pointed at it and said, “The one on the white horse is the Tang Priest, and the hairy-faced one is Sun the Novice.”

“City god,” thought Pig, “you can leave me out. I'll offer you the triple sacrifice and 24 cups of pure wine…”

He muttered prayers as the devil continued, “The tall dark one is Friar Sand, and that's Pig with a long snout and big ears.” At the mention of himself Pig tucked his snout into his clothes.

“Bring your snout out, monk,” said the monster.

“I was born like this,” said Pig, “so I can't bring it out.” The monster ordered the junior devils to pull it out with hooks, at which Pig hastily thrust it out and said, “I just feel shy about it. Here it is. Look at it if you must, but don't hook it.”

Recognizing Pig, the monster raised his sword and hacked at him. Pig parried him with his rake and said, “Behave yourself, my lad, and take this.”

“You took your vows quite late,” said the monster with a smile.

“Clever boy,” replied Pig, “but how did you know?”

“From the way you handle that rake,” the monster said, “you used it to level up the ground in a vegetable garden. You must have stolen it.”

“You don't know this rake, my boy,” said Pig. “It's not the sort used in ground-leveling:

Its teeth are like a dragon's claws,

Flecked with gold in tigerish shapes.

Against a foe it blows a freezing wind,

And in a battle it shoots out flame.

It brushes away obstacles in the Tang Priest's path,

Capturing devils on the way to the Western Heaven.

When whirled, its vapors obscure the sun and moon,

And its black clouds darken the stars.

When it flattens Mount Tai the tigers tremble;

Dragons are frightened when it overturns the ocean.

Even if you have some tricks, you monster,

One blow from this rake will leave nine bloody holes.”

This made the monster more determined that ever, and with his Seven-starred Sword he battled thorough twenty inconclusive rounds with Pig on the mountain. Pig fought back with deadly fury, and at the sight of him pricking up his ears, spewing out saliva, and waving his rake with grunts and shouts, the frightened demon turned round to bring all his underlings into the battle beside him.

Had he been fighting only the one enemy, Pig would have done fine, but when all the little devils rushed him he lost control, could no longer put up any resistance, and fled in defeat. As he was not paying attention to the uneven path he tripped over a creeper and fell over. He was just picking himself up and starting off again when a junior demon who was lying there tugged at his ankle and brought him tumbling down like a dog eating muck. A crowd of demons seized him and carried him back to the cave, holding him by the bristles, ears, legs and tail. Indeed:

A single demon is hard enough to destroy;

Countless disasters can barely be averted.

If you don't know whether Pig lived or not, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

Heterodoxy Confuses the True Nature

The Primal Deity Helps the Original Heart

Taking Pig into the cave the monster said, “Here's one, brother.”

“Let me have a look at him,” said the older demon with delight.

“Isn't this the one?” asked the younger demon.

“No,” the other replied, “you've caught the wrong one. He's useless.”

“Your Majesty,” said Pig, taking his chance, “I'm just a useless monk, so let me go. I'm scarcely human.”

“No, don't let him go, brother,” said the younger monster. “He may be no use himself, but he's with the Tang Priest. Pig's his name. We can soak him in the drinking-water pool at the back till his bristles come out, salt him and dry him to eat with our wine some rain day.”

“Dammit,” said Pig, “I would have to run into a devil who's a salt-pork peddler.” The junior demons carried Pig inside and threw him into the pool.

Sanzang meanwhile was sitting on the slope feeling uneasy. His ears were hot and his eyes twitched. “Wukong,” he said, “Pig's been a long time patrolling the mountain. Why isn't he back?”

“Don't you understand his mentality yet, Master?” said Monkey.

“What mentality?” Sanzang asked.