Wu Cheng-en - Journey to the West (vol. 2)

Lord Lao Zi then took his leave of the gods, mounted the buffalo, and rode on his multicolored cloud up to the Tushita Heaven, taking the demon with him on its lead.

Only then could the Great Sage Sun, Heavenly King Li and all of the host charge into the cave, killing all the hundred and more big and little devils and recovering their weapons and equipment. Monkey thanked Heavenly King Li and Nezha, who went back to Heaven; the thunder gods, who returned to their residence; the Star Lord of Fire, who went to his palace; the Earl of the Yellow River who went to his river; and the arhats, who returned to the Western Heaven. Finally he released the Tang Priest, Pig and Friar Sand and took back his iron cudgel. When the three of them had thanked Monkey the horse and the luggage were got ready and master and disciples left the cave to find the main route to the West.

As they were walking along they heard a call of “Holy Tang Priest, have a vegetarian meal,” which startled the master. If you do not know who was calling, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

The Dhyana Master Conceives after Eating a Meal

The Yellow-Wife Brings Waster to Remove a Devil Foetus

Eight hundred kinds of virtue must be cultivated,

Three thousand good deeds must be secretly performed.

Do not distinguish objects from self, or friend from foe:

That conforms with the teaching of the Western Heaven.

The rhinoceros demon feared no weapons;

No blame attached to the failure of water and fire.

Lord Lao Zi subdued him and took him to Heaven,

Turning the buffalo round with a smile.

The story goes on to tell who was calling by the wayside. The mountain god and local deity of Mount Jindou came out carrying a bowl of purple gold. “Holy monk,” they said, “this bowl of rice was begged by the Great Sage Monkey from a pious household. You fell into the clutches of an evil demon because you would not heed good advice, putting the Great Sage to endless trouble before he was finally able to free you today. Please eat this food before continuing on your way, and do not be ungrateful for the Great Sage's respect and sense of duty.”

“I am very grateful to you, disciple,” said Sanzang, “and I cannot find words to express all my thanks. If I had realized before that I should not step out of the circle I would never have been in such danger of being killed.”

“I tell you frankly, Master,” said Brother Monkey, “that because you did not trust the ring I drew you ended up the victim of someone else's ring. It caused so much trouble and suffering. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!”

“What do you mean about another ring?” Pig asked.

“It was all your fault, you evil-tongued cretin, for getting the master into that terrible danger,” said Monkey. “I had to turn heaven and earth upside down to fetch heavenly soldiers, water, fire, and even the Buddha's cinnabar sand, all of which was caught by his gleaming white ring. It was only because the Buddha gave a hint to the arhats who told me where the demon had come from that I could fetch Lord Lao Zi to subdue him. He was a water-buffalo turned demon.”

“Good disciple,” said Sanzang with infinite gratitude when he heard this, “after this experience I shall definitely take your advice in future.” The four of them then ate the steaming food. “Why is this rice still hot after such a long time?” Monkey asked. “I heated it up myself when I knew that the Great Sage had succeeded,” replied the local deity on his knees. The food was soon eaten, after which they put the bowl away and took their leave of the local deity and the mountain god. The master remounted and they crossed the high mountain. Their minds freed from worries, they returned to true perception; dining on the wind and sleeping in the dew they continued to the West. When they had been travelling for a long time it was once again early spring. They heard

The soft call of swallows,

The beauty of orioles.

The soft call of swallows tiring their fragrant voices;

The beauty of orioles and their frequent song.

The land is covered with flowers like brocade,

The emerald-green hills seem piled with cushions.

Fruit forms on the greengage trees on the ridge,

While an ancient cypress holds a cloud before the scar.

Pale is the misty light on the fertile plain;

Warm sands are bathed in the glow of sunset.

Orchards and trees now break into blossom;

Willows grow new shoots as the spring returns.

As they were walking along they came to a little river in which the water flowed cool, pure and deep. When he reined in his horse for a better look the Tang Priest could make out some of the roof of a thatched cottage under the green shade of willows. “That must be a ferryman's house,” said Monkey, pointing at the cottage. “It looks likely enough,” replied Sanzang, “but I would not like to be too sure as I cannot see any boat.”

“Ferryman!” yelled Pig at the top of his voice, putting the luggage down. “Bring the boat over.” After a number of these shouts a rowing boat came creaking out from under the willows and was soon near their bank. When they looked carefully this is what they saw:

Short oars dividing the waves,

Lightly skimming on the water.

The hull is painted in many colours,

Enclosing a full hold.

Iron chains are neatly coiled in the bows,

And bright is the tiller in the stern.

Although the skiff is only as light as a reed

It is the equal of an ocean-going vessel.

It may have no ivory mast or silken rigging,

But it does have cassia oars and a sternpost of pine.

Indeed this is no ship for mighty voyages,

Just a ferry fit to cross a single stream,

Coming and going between the river's banks,

Never leaving the ancient crossing place.

The boat was soon at the bank, “This way to cross the river,” called the boatman. Urging the horse forward for a closer look, Sanzang saw that the boatman looked like this:

A head wrapped in a toweling cloth,

Feet in black shoes of silk.

Many a patch on cotton-padded tunic and trousers,

And around the waist was a much-stitched cotton apron.

Horny skin on the hands, and muscles hard,

Eyes dim, a wrinkled brow, and an aged face.

But the voice was a melodious as an oriole's song;

At a closer look she was clearly an old woman.

“Do you do the ferrying?” asked Monkey, approaching the boat.

“Yes,” the woman replied.

“Why isn't the ferryman here?” Monkey asked. “Why has he left it to his wife to pole the boat?”

The woman smiled and said nothing as she put the gangplank into position. Friar Sand carried the luggage aboard while Monkey helped the master on then followed himself. Pig led the horse on, after which the plank was stowed. The woman pushed off and quickly rowed them across the river.

When they were on the Western bank Sanzang told Friar Sang to open one of the bundles and take out some coins to give her. The ferry woman did not argue about the amount, but moored the boat by its painter to a stake beside the water and went back into her cottage chuckling.

As he was thirsty and the water was so clear Sanzang said to Pig, “Get the bowl and fetch me some water to drink.” Pig did as he was told and handed the water to his master, who drank only about a third of it, leaving two-thirds for the idiot to snatch and down in a single draft before helping the master back on his horse.

Master and disciples had been going less than an hour on the road West when Sanzang started to groan, “My stomach's hurting.”

“I've got the bellyache too,” said Pig, who was behind him.