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

The Monk of the River was fated to suffer much;

In the faith of Nirvana it is hard to win merit.

Carrying the Tang Priest to the mouth of the cave, the monster stilled the hurricane and said to the gatekeepers, “Report to His Majesty at once that the Tiger of the Vanguard has caught a monk and is awaiting further instructions outside the gates.” He was then admitted on the orders of the chieftain. With his two bronze swords stuck in his belt and holding the Tang Priest in both hands, he went forward and genuflected before the chieftain. “Your Majesty,” he said, “your humble underling was patrolling the mountain as ordered when suddenly I met a monk. He is the Patriarch Sanzang, the younger brother of His Majesty the Great Tang Emperor, and he was going to the West to visit the Buddha and ask for the scriptures. I have captured him and now offer him as a dish for your table.”

The chieftain was astonished at the news. “I've heard tell of the Patriarch Sanzang, the holy priest sent by the Great Tang Emperor to fetch the scriptures. He has a disciple called Brother Monkey whose magical powers are tremendous and whose cunning is considerable. However did you manage to catch him?”

“He has two disciples. The first one to come at me was a fellow with a long nose and big ears who wields a nine-pronged rake, and the second one has a gold-banded iron cudgel and fiery eyes with golden pupils. When the pair of them were after me and about to attack, I used a 'golden cicada shedding its skin' trick to make my getaway, then I caught this monk to offer to Your Majesty as a snack.”

“He's not to be eaten yet,” the chieftain said.

“You must be off your food, Your Majesty, if you won't eat what's put before you,” said the Tiger of the Vanguard.

“You don't get my point,” the chieftain replied. “It's not eating him that worries me, but the thought that those two disciples of his may come here to make trouble, which would be dangerous. Tie him to the wind-settling stake in the garden at the back, and leave him there for a few days till we're sure his disciples won't be coming to make trouble for us. This way he'll be nice and clean, and we can do what we like with him without any arguments. Whether we have him boiled, steamed, fried or scrambled, we can eat him at our leisure.”

“Your Majesty's plans are most far-sighted, and you are quite right,” said the Tiger of the Vanguard, who then ordered his underlings to take Sanzang away.

Seven or eight of them crowded forward to tie up Sanzang and take him away; they were like hawks seizing bramblings as they bound him tightly. Then did the unfortunate Monk of the River long for Brother Monkey; the holy priest in his troubles wished Pig would come.

“Disciples,” he called out, “I don't know on what mountain you are catching monsters, or where you're subduing evil spirits, but I've met with disaster and been captured by a demon. Alas, when will I ever see you again? If you come soon, you can save my life, but if you are too long about it I will be finished.” His tears poured down like rain as he moaned and sighed.

As Monkey and Pig chased the tiger down the mountain side they saw that it had reached the bottom and was crouching at the foot of the cliff. Monkey raised his cudgel and brought it down as hard as he could, thus hurting his own hands. Pig took another swipe at the beast with his rake, which made its prongs splay apart. The Tiger turned out to be only a tiger skin spread over a rock shaped like crouching tiger.

“This is terrible,” said Monkey, “he's tricked us.”

“How?” Pig asked.

“The trick is called 'the golden cicada shedding its skin'. He put his tiger-skin over this rock and got away. We'd better go back and see that our master comes to no harm.” The two of them rushed back to find that Sanzang had disappeared. “Whatever shall we do?” cried Monkey in a voice as loud as thunder. “It's caught our master.”

Pig led the horse over and said through his tears, “Heaven help us. Wherever shall we look for him?”

“Don't cry,” said Monkey, raising his head, “don't cry. If you cry you'll dampen our spirits. I'm convinced he must be somewhere on this mountain. We must start searching for him.”

The two of them hurried deep into the mountain, going through passes and crossing ridges, and after they had been going for a long time they saw a cave palace at the foot of a rock-face. They stopped to gaze at it, and saw an awe-inspiring sight:

Screened by many a jagged peak,

With ancient paths winding around;

Green pines merged with bluish bamboo;

The softness of willows and wutong trees.

Odd boulders stood in pairs before the cliff,

While birds made couples hidden in the woods.

The water in the gully splashed against the rock-wall,

As the spring waters trickled over the sandbank.

Under the billowing clouds,

Rare herbs grew lush.

Fox spirits and crafty hares darted around;

Horned deer and river-deer fought for mastery.

Ancient creepers hung across the rocks,

And a thousand-year cypress was suspended in a chasm.

In pinnacled majesty it vied with Mount Hua;

The flowers and birdsong rivaled Tiantai Peak.

“Worthy brother,” said Monkey, “put our baggage in the wind-storing cave, let the horse out to pasture, and lie low while I go to the gates of that place and fight it out with them. I must catch that evil spirit before I can rescue our master.”

“There's no need to give me instructions,” Pig replied. “Go at once.”

Monkey straightened his tunic, tightened his tiger-skin kilt, and went straight to the gate with his cudgel in his hands. Above the gate he saw YELLOW WIND CAVE OF THE YELLOW WIND RIDGE written in large letters. Taking a firm stance and brandishing the club he shouted, “Evil monsters, send my master out if you don't want this den of yours turned upside-down and your home trampled flat.”

When the junior fiends heard this they were terrified, and they ran trembling inside to announce, “Your Majesty, a disaster.”

“What is it?” asked the Yellow Wind Monster who was sitting inside.

“There's a thunder-voiced, hairy-faced monk outside with a great thick iron cudgel in his hands, and he wants his master back,” they said.

The alarmed chieftain sent for the Tiger of the Vanguard and said to him, “When I sent you to patrol the mountain you were only supposed to catch mountain oxen, wild boar, deer, and goats. Why on earth did you bring that Tang Priest here? It's provoked his disciple into coming to make trouble. What are we to do?”

“There is no need for Your Majesty to worry,” the Tiger replied. “Your incompetent underling will take fifty junior officers out with me and bring back that Brother Monkey as a second course for the meal.”

“Apart from the higher and lower ranking commanders, we have about six hundred junior officers here,” said the chieftain. “Take as many of them as you like with you. If you catch that Monkey, we can dine off the priest at our leisure, and I promise to make you my sworn brother. But I'm afraid that you won't be able to get him, and that he'll kill you. If that happens, don't blame me.”

“Rest assured,” the tiger monster said, “rest assured. I'll soon be back with him.” Mustering fifty strong and spirited young fiends, he charged out of the gates with drums rolling and banners waving; his two bronze swords were tied to his body. “Where are you from, ape monk?” he shrieked at the top of his voice. “What do you mean by all this yelling and shouting?”

“You skinned beast,” Monkey retorted, “you played that trick of skinning yourself to capture my master, and you have the nerve to ask me what I'm doing! Bring my master out at once and I'll spare your life.”