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

While rare flowers bloomed by the stream amid orchids.

Intricately shaped and strange were the rocks,

And sheer rose the crags.

Foxes and raccoon-dogs ran in packs;

Badgers and apes were playing in groups.

The travelers were worried by so high and steep a mountain:

Why was the ancient track so twisted?

While master and disciples were moving timidly ahead they heard the howling of a wind. “There's a wind,” said Sanzang in fear.

“In the spring there are mild winds,” Monkey replied, “in the summer hot ones, in the autumn golden ones and in the winter North winds. There are winds in all four seasons. What's so frightening about a wind?”

“This wind is blowing very hard,” Sanzang replied. “It is definitely not a wind from heaven.”

“But winds always come from the earth and clouds from mountains,” Monkey replied, “so how could there be a wind from heaven?” Before he had finished speaking a mist arose. That mist really was

Darkness joining up with the sky,

Obscurity making the whole earth dim.

The sun had completely vanished from sight

And no bird sang.

All was as indistinct as primal chaos,

And the air seemed filled with flying dust.

The trees on the mountain could not be seen

Where had the herb-gatherers gone?

“Wukong,” said Sanzang in fright, “why is there this mist when the wind is still blowing?”

“Don't get upset,” Monkey replied. “Get off your horse, Master. I'll go and see whether or not it's sinister while you two keep guard, brothers.”

The splendid Great Sage needed only to bow in order to be in mid-air. Holding his hand to his brow for shade, he opened his fiery eyes wide and looked down to see an evil spirit sitting at the foot of a beetling scar. Just look and see what he was like:

A mighty body full of charm,

A heroic manner of great vigor.

The fangs protruding from his mouth were drills of steel;

His nose hung like a jade hook in the middle.

His golden eyes with pupils round gave animals a fright;

Demons and gods were scared of his bristling silver whiskers.

He sat upright by the cliff in terrible might,

Making the mist and wind as he hatched his plot.

On either side of him some thirty or forty junior demons could be seen, all drawn up in line and blowing out mist and wind for all they were worth. Monkey grinned at this and thought, “So my master is clairvoyant. He said it wasn't a heavenly wind, and it was in fact caused by this evil spirit trying to fool us. Now if I went straight down and hit him with what they call a 'garlicsmasher' that'd kill him sure enough, but it would ruin my reputation.” Monkey had been a true hero all his life and was quite incapable of playing a dirty trick like that.

“I'd better go back and give Pig some attention. I'll ask him to hit the evil spirit first. If Pig's good enough to kill the evil spirit we'll be in luck. If he isn't and the evil spirit captures him I can come back to rescue him and win myself a bit of fame. He's always putting on such an act and being so lazy-he won't make an effort. Still, he is very greedy and partial to a good feed. I think I'll try a trick on him and see how that works.”

At once he brought his cloud down to land in front of Sanzang, who asked, “Are the wind and the mist sinister or not?”

“It's clear now,” Monkey replied. “They've gone.”

“Yes,” said Sanzang, “they have eased off a little.”

“Master,” said Monkey with a smile, “my eyesight is very good usually, but this time I was wrong. I thought there'd probably be a monster behind that wind and mist but there wasn't.”

“What caused them then?” Sanzang asked.

“There's a village not far ahead,” Monkey replied, “where the people are so pious that they're steaming white rice and white breadrolls to feed monks with. I think that the mist must have been steam escaping from their steamers. It was the result of their goodness.”

When Pig heard this he thought Monkey was telling the truth, so he grabbed hold of him and whispered, “Did you eat their food before you came back?”

“Only a bit,” Monkey replied. “The vegetable dishes were too salty-I didn't want to eat too much.”

“Screw that,” said Pig. “I'd eat my fill of it however salty it was. If it made me really thirsty I'd come back for a drink of water.”

“Would you like some?” Monkey asked.

“Sure thing,” Pig replied. “I'm hungry and I'd like some now. What do you think?”

“You mustn't even talk about it,” said Monkey. “As the ancient book says, 'When the father is present the son must do nothing on his own account.' Our master, who's as good as a father to you, is here, so none of us should dare go ahead.”

“If you'll say nothing about it, I'm going,” replied Pig with a grin.

“Let's see how you do it,” Monkey replied. “I'll say nothing.” When it came to eating the idiot knew a thing or two.

He went up to his master, made a loud “na-a-aw” of respect, and said, “Master, elder brother has just told me that there are people in a village ahead of us who feed monks. Just look at that horse. It looks as though it's going to start playing it up. We'll be causing a lot of trouble if we have to ask for grass and other fodder for it. Luckily the wind and the clouds have gone now, so why don't you all sit here for a while while I fetch some tender grass? We can go and beg for food from that house when we've fed the horse.”

“Splendid,” said the Tang Priest with delight. “I wondered why you've become so hardworking today. Be as quick as you can.”

Smiling secretly to himself the idiot started out. “Brother,” said Monkey, catching up and grabbing hold of him, “they feed monks all right, but only good-looking ones.”

“In that case I'll have to change again,” said Pig.

“Yes,” said Brother Monkey, “you change.”

The splendid idiot, who could perform thirty-six transformations, went into a hollow on the mountainside, made a spell with his hands, said the magic words, shook himself and turned himself into a short, skinny monk, beating a wooden fish-shaped dram with his hand and mumbling, “Oh great one, oh great one,” because he knew no scriptures to recite.

After putting away the wind and the mist the evil spirit ordered all his devils to form a circle round the main road, ready for any travelers. The idiot's luck was out, and he was soon inside the trap and surrounded by the devils, who grabbed at his clothes and his silken sash as they all crowded in on him together.

“Don't pull,” Pig said. “You can let me eat in all your houses in turn.”

“What do you want to eat, monk?” the devils asked. “You feed monks here,” Pig replied, “and I've come to be fed.”

“So you're hoping to be fed, are you, monk?” said the demons. “You don't seem to realize that what we like doing best here is eating monks. We're all evil immortals who've found the Way here in the mountains, and the only thing we want to do is to catch you monks, take you home with us, pop you in the steamer till you're tender and eat you. And you're still hoping for a vegetarian meal!”

At this Pig's heart was filled with terror, and he started complaining about Monkey. “That Protector of the Horses is a crook. He lied to me about them feeding monks in this village. There aren't any villagers here and there's nobody who feeds monks. They're all evil spirits.” The idiot was being tugged at so hard that he turned back into himself, pulled the rake out from his belt and struck out wildly, driving all the junior devils back.

They rushed back to report to the senior demon, “Disaster, Your Majesty.”

“What disaster?” the senior demon asked.