Monkey (43 page)

‘What are your names ?’ he presently asked.

‘I am War Boy,’ said Monkey, ‘and the girl is called Load of Gold.’

‘Well, War Boy and Load of Gold,’ said the monster, ‘I must tell you that” this sacrifice is a very old institution. You have been offered to me by your parents according to custom, and I am now going to eat you.’

‘Help yourself I’ said Monkey. ‘We shan’t put any obstacle in your way.’

On hearing this the monster again hesitated. ‘Now, none of your sauce!’ he said. ‘You’re too forward. I usually begin with the boy, but this time I think I’ll begin with the girl instead.’

‘Stick to your rule, Great King,’ gasped Pigsy. ‘It’s always a pity when old customs disappear.’

But the monster was not in the mood to start a discussion, and striding forward he grabbed at Pigsy. That fool leapt off the dish, changed into his proper form, and seized his rake. The monster fled, but Pigsy was in time to get in a tremendous blow. Something fell to the ground with a clang. ‘I’ve smashed his helmet!’ cried Pigsy. And Monkey, resuming his proper shape, picked up a great fish scale, about the size of an ice-dish. ‘Up we go!’ he shouted, and both of them sprang into the air. It so happened that the monster was on his way to a dinner-party and was therefore unarmed.

‘Who are you?’ he shouted up at them, ‘that you should come here interfering with my rights and damaging my reputation?’

‘It is time you should know,’ said Monkey. ‘We are disciples of Tripitaka, who is going to India to get scriptures. We heard last night of the filthy orgies in which you indulge, and determined to save the lives of the victims and put you under arrest. Come now, confess the truth. How long has this been going on? How many boys and girls have you devoured? If you render me a full account, perhaps I will spare your life.’

At this, the monster fled, and before Pigsy could get in another blow he had changed into a gust of wind and disappeared into the river.

‘We won’t waste time in chasing him,’ said Monkey. ‘Tomorrow we’ll arrange a plan for disposing of him finally, and getting our Master across the river.’ They went back to the temple, and collecting the beasts and other things brought for the sacrifice, they returned to the farm. Tripitaka, Sandy, and the two brothers were anxiously waiting for news, when Monkey and Pigsy suddenly appeared in the courtyard, driving the sacrificial animals and dumping down the holy gear. ‘How did the sacrifice go?’ asked Tripitaka. Monkey told them what had happened. The two old men were delighted, and at once ordered the best room to be got ready for the pilgrims. Soon all were soundly asleep.

When the monster got back to his palace under the river, he threw himself on to his throne and sat in complete silence. His watery kinsfolk were astonished to see him looking so glum.

‘You are usually in such high spirits after the sacrifice,’ they said.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and I have always been able to bring back some tit-bits for all of you. But today I didn’t even get anything to eat myself. I met my match, and came near to losing my life.’ And he told them his story. ‘Tripitaka,’ he added, ‘is of such sanctity that anyone who ate the least scrap of his flesh would live for ever. But now that he has got such disciples as this, I very much doubt if I can catch him.’ Then from among his watery kinsmen there stepped out a stripy-coated perch-mother, wriggling and bowing.

‘If you want to catch Tripitaka,’ she said, ‘nothing could be easier. But if I tell you how, what reward will you give me?’

‘If you have a good plan and enable me to catch him,’ said the monster, ‘I will adopt you as my sister and you shall eat him sitting with me on the same mat.’

‘Well then,’ she said, ‘I know that you can call the wind and make rain. But can you bring down snow ?’

‘Certainly,’ he said.

‘And can you make it so cold that everything freezes ?’

‘I can,’ he said.

‘In that case,’ she said, ‘all is easy.’

‘Let’s hear about it,’ said the monster.

‘It is already the third night watch,’ said the perch-mother. ‘You must get to work at once. First you must raise a cold wind, then send down a great fall of snow, and make it so cold that the river freezes right across. Some of us who are good at transformations must take on human form and must go about on the ice, where the road runs down to the river, shouldering packs, umbrella in hand. Tripitaka is in a great hurry to get to India, and when he sees people walking on the ice he will insist on going across. You will be sitting quietly here at the heart of the river, and as soon as you hear his footsteps above you, will cause the ice to crack. He and his disciples will all fall into the hole, and at one stroke you will have them all in your power.’

‘Splendid!’ cried the monster, and leaving his watery home he went up into the sky, set the wind in motion, made a snow-storm and caused the great river to freeze all over.

Just before dawn, Tripitaka and his disciples suddenly began to shiver. Pigsy kept on sneezing and coughing, and could not sleep. ‘Brother, it’s very cold!’ he called out at last.

‘Fool,’ said Monkey. ‘Where’s your spirit? Pilgrims don’t feel either heat or cold. What does it matter to us how much it freezes ?’

‘Disciple,’ said Tripitaka, ‘there is something in what he says; it is remarkably cold.’ None of them could sleep, and soon they all tumbled out of bed, dressed, opened the door, and looked out. Everything was white; it had evidently been snowing hard for some time. ‘It’s no wonder you were cold,’ said Monkey, ‘in such a snow-storm as this.’ They all gazed at the lovely snow. Down it fluttered, in pale silken threads and flying splinters of jade. When they had admired its beauty for some time, two servants of the house came along and began to brush the paths. Others brought them hot water to wash in; and hot tea and milk-cakes soon followed. Braziers were brought and they all sat down in the parlour. By the time they had finished breakfast, it was snowing harder than ever, and soon there was more than two
feet of snow on the ground. Tripitaka became very uneasy about the prospects of the journey, and burst into tears.

‘Calm yourself, Father,’ said Mr Ch’en. ‘The sight of so much snow need not distress you. The house is well stocked with provisions, and we can provide for you as long as you choose to stay.’

‘You do not understand the cause of my anxiety,’ said Tripitaka. ‘When I received the Emperor’s bidding to go upon this pilgrimage, his Majesty accompanied me to the frontier, and when presenting the cup of parting he asked me how long I should be away. I had no idea how difficult the journey would prove and promptly replied, “It will take me three years to fetch the scriptures and bring them back.” But seven years have passed, and still I have not seen Buddha’s face. The thought that I have exceeded the appointed time weighs heavily upon me. Fortunately my disciples were able last night to render you a small service, and I was thinking of making bold to ask you if you could give us a boat in which to cross the river. But now this great snow-storm threatens to postpone our journey for I know not how many months, and my return is again delayed.’

‘Surely a few days one way or the other cannot make all that difference,’ said Mr Ch’en. ‘Wait till the weather clears, and I will undertake to get you across the river, even if it costs my whole patrimony.’

So elaborate was the luncheon that was served, that Tripitaka became quite uneasy. ‘We can only consent to a further stay,’ he said, ‘if you are willing to treat us informally, as members of the family.’

“There is no number of banquets, however many days running,’ said the old man, ‘that could ever repay you for saving our children from their doom.’ Soon afterwards the snow stopped, and people began to go about again. Seeing that Tripitaka was looking depressed, Mr Ch’en had the paths of the flower garden swept. A big brazier was brought, and they all were invited to come and sit in a snow-cave, by way of distraction.

‘What’s this old fellow thinking of?’ cried Pigsy. ‘A flower garden is a place to go to in spring time. In this cold, with
everything buried under the snow, what pleasure can it be?’

‘Fool!’ said Monkey. ‘You do not know what you are talking about. Snow-bound scenes have a mysterious calm which is delightful to enjoy, and will soothe our Master’s feelings.’

When they had admired the scene for some while, they sat in the snow-cave, and some neighbours who had joined them were told about the pilgrimage. When they had all drunk perfumed tea Mr Ch’en asked, ‘Do you reverend gentlemen drink wine ?’

‘I do not,’ said Tripitaka, ‘but my disciples will drink a cup or two of weak wine.’ It was now getting late, and it was announced that supper was ready in the house. At this moment someone in the street was heard saying, ‘This is something like cold! The river has frozen.’

‘Monkey, that sounds bad for us,’ groaned Tripitaka.

‘The cold came on very suddenly,’ said Mr Ch’en. ‘Probably it only means that the shallow water near the bank has frozen.’

But the man who had given the news replied, ‘It is frozen the whole way across, smooth as the face of a mirror, and people are walking about on the ice, where the road goes down to the river.’ When Tripitaka heard that people were walking on the ice, he wanted to go at once and look. ‘Don’t be in a hurry,’ said Mr Ch’en. ‘It’s late now. Tomorrow we will go and look.’ They then parted with the neighbours, and when supper was over retired to rest. Pigsy, when he woke, announced that it was colder than ever. Tripitaka went to the door and prostrating himself uttered the following prayer: ‘Deities that guard the Faith, in our journey to the west we have braved the perils of hill and stream, that we might at last see Buddha face to face. Never have we grumbled or repined. Now we see before us strong evidence of Heaven’s help, in that this river has frozen so that it can be crossed. We swear that on our return we will inform our Emperor of this favour, and he will repay you with manifold offerings.’

Then he ordered Pigsy to saddle the horse, and get ready to cross the river while it was still frozen.

‘Don’t be in a hurry,’ said Mr Ch’e’n. ‘In a few days the ice will have melted and I will do my poor best to provide you with a boat.’

‘I’m not either for going at once or for staying on,’ said Sandy. ‘We have only heard about the river being frozen and have not seen for ourselves. While we are saddling the horses, I suggest that the Master should go and have a look.’

‘There is some sense in that,’ said Mr Ch’en. And he told his servants to saddle six horses, but not to let Tripitaka’s horse be saddled for the present. Then they all rode down to the river to look. It was true enough that people were walking across the ice.

‘Where are they going ?’ asked Tripitaka.

‘They are traders,’ said Mr Ch’en, ‘from the country on the other side of the river. Things that here are worth a hundred strings of cash are worth ten thousand on the other side. And things that are there worth only a hundred are here worth two thousand. So great are the profits to be made that they are willing to undertake the journey even at the risk of their lives. In ordinary times six or seven or even ten will pack into one boat and cross even in the heaviest storms. And directly they saw that the river was frozen they have naturally come pouring across on foot.’

‘The men of the world,’ said Tripitaka, ‘stake all on profit and fame. But it must not be forgotten that we pilgrims too, in carrying out the Imperial behest, are also seeking fame, and we must not allow ourselves to feel too superior. Monkey, go back at once to our benefactor’s house, put together the luggage, saddle the horse, and let us cross while the ice is thick.’

‘Master,’ said Sandy, ‘the proverb says, “In a thousand days one eats up a thousand measures of rice.” As we are offered the use of Mr Ch’en’s house, would it not be wiser to wait a few days till the weather changes and the ice melts, and then cross in a boat? It is a mistake to be in too much of a hurry.’

‘I am surprised that you should take such a view,’ said Tripitaka. ‘If it were the end of winter and getting warmer every day, it might be good to wait till the ice melts. But it is
the eighth month, when the weather grows colder every day If we wait, we shall lose half a year of travelling.’

‘Stop your chattering,’ said Pigsy, dismounting from his horse, ‘and let me go and see how thick the ice really is.’

‘Fool,’ said Monkey, ‘do you think you can find that out by throwing a stone, as you found out how deep the water was before?’

‘You don’t understand,’ said Pigsy. ‘I’ll strike the ice with my rake. If the ice breaks, that means it’s thin and we won’t trust it. If it doesn’t give, that means it’s thick, and we can walk on it.’

‘That sounds sensible,’ said Tripitaka.

The fool hitched up his coat, went to the edge of the river, and lifting the rake in both hands struck with all his might. There was a tremendous bang and nine white marks appeared on the ice. ‘Let’s be off!’ he cried. ‘I’ll guarantee that it’s firm right to the bottom.’ Tripitaka was delighted. They all went back to Mr Ch’en’s, and prepared for the journey. Unable to prevail upon them to stay, Mr Ch’en insisted upon their accepting some dried provisions and pastries to take with them, and all the household gathered round bowing and kow-towing. A dish of broken pieces of gold and silver was also brought, and Mr Ch’en asked them to accept a small contribution to the expenses of their journey, as a return for the service that they had rendered to the family. Tripitaka shook his head. ‘I have left the world,’ he said. ‘Of what use is money to me? It is our duty to live entirely on such alms as are offered to us upon the road. It is enough that we should accept the provisions you have kindly offered.’ When the old man had renewed the offer several times, Monkey plunged his hand into the dish and brought out some pieces worth about five string of cash in all. Giving them to Tripitaka he said, ‘Here’s some pocket money for you. Take it, or Mr Ch’en will be disappointed.’ Then they parted and made for the river bank. When they got on to the ice, the horse began to slip about and Tripitaka was nearly thrown.