Wu Cheng-en - Journey to the West (vol. 3)

The idiot lifted his rake and rushed up the steep slope shouting. “Come out, evil spirit! Come and fight your ancestor Pig!” The herald with the blue flag rushed back to report, “Your Majesty, there's a monk with a long snout and big ears here.” The second demon chief came out of the encampment, saw Pig, and without a word thrust his spear straight at Pig's face. The idiot raised his rake and went forward to parry the blow. The two of them joined battle in front of the mountainside, and before they had fought seven or eight rounds the idiot began to weaken. He was no longer able to hold the evil spirit off.

“Brother,” he shouted, turning back in a hurry, “pull in the lifeline, pull in the lifeline!” When the Great Sage heard this from where he stood he loosened his hold on the rope and dropped it. The idiot started to run back now that he was defeated. At first he had not noticed the rope trailing behind him, but after he turned back, relaxing the tension on it, it started to get tangled round his legs. He tripped himself over, climbed to his feet and tripped over again. At first he only staggered, but then he fell facedown into the dust. The evil spirit caught up with him, unwound his trunk that was like a python, wrapped it round Pig and carried him back in triumph to the cave. The devilish host chorused a paean of victory as they swarmed back.

When Sanzang saw all this from the foot of the slope he became angry with Monkey. “Wukong,” he said, “no wonder Wuneng wishes you were dead. You brother-disciples don't love each other at all. All you feel is jealousy. He told you to pull in his lifeline, so why didn't you? Why did you drop the rope instead? What are we to do now you have got him killed?”

“You're covering up for him again, Master,” said Monkey, “and showing favoritism too. I'm fed up. When I was captured it didn't bother you at all. I was dispensable. But when that idiot gets himself caught you blame me for it. Let him suffer. It'll teach him how hard it is to fetch the scriptures.”

“Disciple,” said Sanzang, “was I not worried when you went? I remembered that you could change into other things, so I was sure you would come to no harm. But the idiot was born clumsy and can't transform himself, which makes this a very dangerous business. You must go and rescue him.”

“Stop complaining, Master,” said Brother Monkey. “I'll go and save him.”

Monkey rushed up the mountain thinking resentfully, “I'm not going to make life easy for that idiot if he wishes me dead. I'll go and see what the evil spirits are doing with him. Before I rescue him I'll let him suffer a bit.” He then made magic with his hands, said the words of a spell, shook himself, turned into the tiniest of insects and flew into the cave, where he landed at the bottom of one of Pig's ears to be taken inside with the evil spirit. The second demon chief had led his three thousand junior devils trumpeting and drumming loudly to the cave, where they stopped.

He now took Pig inside and said, “I've got one, elder brother.”

“Show me,” the senior demon replied.

Unwinding his trunk the second demon chief flung Pig to the ground and said, “There he is.”

“That one's useless,” said the senior demon.

“Your Majesty,” put in Pig when he heard this, “if I'm no use let me go and find a more useful one to capture.”

“He may not be any use,” said the third demon chief, “but he is the Tang Priest's disciple Zhu Bajie. Tie him up and put him to soak in the pool at the back. When his bristles have been soaked off we can open his belly up, salt him and dry him in the sun. He'll go down well with some wine on a rainy day.”

“That's that then,” exclaimed Pig in horror. “I've fallen into the clutches of a demon who's a salt-pork peddler.” The demon hordes fell on him, tied his hands and feet together, carried him to the pool at the back, pushed him in and went back.

When the Great Sage flew there to have a look he saw the idiot with his four limbs pointing upwards and his snout downwards as he half floated and was half sinking, grunting through his snout. He really was a ridiculous sight, like a big blackened frost-bitten lotus pod that has shed its seeds in September or October. Seeing his face the Great Sage felt both loathing and pity for him.

“What shall I do?” he wondered. “After all, he is another member of the Dragon Flower Assembly. I just wish he wouldn't keep trying to divide up the luggage, split our band, and incite the master to say the Band-tightening Spell. The other day I heard Friar Sand say that he'd stashed some money away for himself. I wonder if it's true. I'll give him a scare and find out.”

The splendid Great Sage flew down to his ear and called in a disguised voice, “Zhu Wuneng, Zhu Wuneng.”

“This is terrible,” thought Pig in alarm, “Wuneng is the name the Bodhisattva Guanyin gave me. I've been called Zhu Bajie all the time I've been with the Tang Priest. How can there be anyone here who knows my name is Wuneng?” So he could not restrain himself from asking, “Who's that calling my Buddhist name?”

“Me,” said Monkey.

“Who are you?” the idiot asked.

“I'm a catcher,” Monkey replied.

“Where from, sir?” asked Pig in terror.

“From the Fifth King of the Underworld, and he's sent me to fetch you,” said Monkey.

“Then please go back and ask the Fifth King as he's such a good friend of my senior fellow-disciple Sun Wukong to give me a day's grace. You can come for me tomorrow.”

“You're talking nonsense,” Monkey replied. “If King Yama of Hell decides you're to die in the third watch nobody will keep you till the fourth. Come with me at once if you don't want me to put a rope round your neck and drag you off.”

“Do me a favour,” said the idiot. “Even with a face like mine still want to go on living. I'll certainly die if I have to, but give me a day till these evil spirits have captured my master and the rest of us, so I can see them again before we're all done for.”

“Very well then,” said Monkey, grinning to himself. “I've got about thirty people to capture around here in this batch. When I've caught them I'll come back for you. That'll give you a day's grace. Give me some money. I'm sure you've got some.”

“Oh dear,” said Pig, “we monks don't have money.”

“If you haven't then I'm dragging you off,” said Brother Monkey. “Come with me.”

“Don't be so impatient, sir,” said the idiot, panicking. “I know that rope of yours is what they call the life-taking rope. Once It's round you you're dead. Yes, I have got some money. I've got a bit, but not much.”

“Where is it?” Monkey demanded. “Give it me at once.”

“Oh dear, what a pity!” said Pig. “From when I became a monk right up till now the kind people who feed monks have given me a bit more alms than the others because my belly's so big. I saved all the little bits of silver till I had about half an ounce. They were awkward to keep, so when we were in a city some time ago I asked a silversmith to melt them all together. The wicked man stole a few grains of it, so the ingot he made only weighed forty-six hundredths of an ounce. Take it.”

“The idiot hasn't even got his trousers on,” grinned Monkey to himself, “so where can he have hidden it? Hey, where's your silver?”

“It's stuffed inside my left ear,” Pig replied. “I can't get it myself because I'm tied up, so take it out yourself.” When Monkey heard this he put his hand out and took the silver from inside Pig's ear. It was indeed an ingot shaped like a saddle that weighed only forty-five or forty-six hundredths of an ounce. As he held it in his hands Monkey could not help roaring with laughter.

Recognizing Monkey's voice the idiot started cursing him wildly from the water: “Damn and blast you, Protector of the Horses, for coming to extort money from me when I'm in such misery.”