Monkey (46 page)

In less than a day they had safely traversed the whole eight hundred leagues and arrived with dry hand and dry foot at the further shore. Tripitaka disembarked, and with palms pressed together thanked the turtle, saying, ‘It affects me deeply that I have nothing to give you in return for all your trouble. I hope that when I come back with the scriptures I shall be able to show you my gratitude.’

‘Master,’ said the turtle, ‘I should not dream of accepting a reward; but there is one thing you can do for me. I have heard that the Buddha of the Western Heaven knows both the past and the future. I have been perfecting myself here for about one thousand years. This is a pretty long span, and I have already been fortunate enough to learn human speech; but I still remain a turtle. I should indeed be very much obliged if you would ask the Buddha how long it will be before I achieve human form.’

‘I promise to ask,’ said Tripitaka.

The turtle then disappeared into the depths of the river. Monkey helped Tripitaka on to his horse, Pigsy shouldered the luggage and Sandy brought up the rear. They soon found
their way back to the main road and set out for the West.

If you do not know how far they still had to travel and whether disasters still awaited them, you must listen to what is told in the next chapter.

T
HEY
travelled westward for many months, and at last began to be aware that the country through which they were now passing was different from any that they had seen. Everywhere they came across gem-like flowers and magical grasses, with many ancient cypresses and hoary pines. In the villages through which they passed every family seemed to devote itself to the entertainment of priests and other pious works. On every hill were hermits practising austerities, in every wood pilgrims chanting holy writ. Finding hospitality each night and starting again at dawn, they journeyed for many days, till they came at last within sudden sight of a cluster of high eaves and towers.

‘Monkey, that’s a fine place,’ said Tripitaka, pointing to it with his whip.

‘Considering,’ said Monkey, ‘how often you have insisted upon prostrating yourself at the sight of false magicians’ palaces and arch impostors’ lairs, it is strange that when at last you see before you Buddha’s true citadel, you should not even dismount from your horse.’

At this Tripitaka in great excitement sprang from his saddle, and walking beside the horse was soon at the gates of the high building. A young Taoist came out to meet them. ‘Aren’t you the people who have come from the east to fetch scriptures ?’ he asked. Tripitaka hastily tidied his clothes and looking up saw that the boy was clad in gorgeous brocades and carried a bowl of jade dust in his hand. Monkey knew him at once.

‘This,’ he said to Tripitaka, ‘is the Golden Crested Great Immortal of the Jade Truth Temple at the foot of the Holy Mountain.’

Tripitaka at once advanced bowing. ‘Well, here you are at last!’ said the Immortal. ‘The Bodhisattva misinformed me. Ten years ago she was told by Buddha to go to China and find someone who would fetch scriptures from India. She
told me she had found someone who would arrive here in two or three years. Year after year I waited, but never a sign! This meeting is indeed a surprise.’

‘I cannot thank you enough, Great Immortal, for your patience,’ said Tripitaka.

Then they all went into the temple and were shown round by the Immortal; tea and refreshments were served, and perfumed hot water was brought for Tripitaka to wash in. Soon they all turned in for the night. Early next day Tripitaka changed into his brocaded cassock and jewelled cap, and staff in hand presented himself to the Immortal in the hall of the temple, to take his leave. ‘That’s better!’ said the Immortal. ‘Yesterday you were looking a bit shabby; but now you look a true child of Buddha!’

Tripitaka was just going when the Immortal stopped him, saying,’ You must let me see you off.’

‘It’s really not necessary,’ said Tripitaka. ‘Monkey knows the way.’

‘He only knows the way by air,’ said the Immortal. ‘You have got to go on the ground.’

‘That’s true enough,’ said Monkey. ‘We will trouble you just to set us on the right way. My Master is pining to get into the presence of the Buddha, and it would be a pity if there were any delay.’

Taking Tripitaka by the hand he led him right through the temple and out at the back. For the road did not go from the front gate, but traversed the courtyards and led on to the hill behind.

‘You see that highest point, wreathed in magic rainbow mists,’ said the Immortal, pointing to the mountain. ‘That is the Vulture Peak, the sacred precinct of the Buddha.’

Tripitaka at once began kow-towing. ‘Master,’ said Monkey, ‘you had better keep that for later on. If you are going to kow-tow all the way up to the top, there won’t be much left of your head by the time we get there. It’s still a long way off.’

‘You stand already on Blessed Ground,’ said the Immortal. “The Holy Mountain is before you. I shall now turn back.’

Monkey led them up the hill at a leisurely pace. They had
not gone more than five or six leagues when they came to a great water about eight leagues wide. It was exceedingly swift and rough. No one was to be seen in any direction.

‘I don’t think this can be the right way,’ said Tripitaka. ‘Do you think the Immortal can possibly have been mistaken? This water is so wide and so rough that we cannot possibly get across.’

‘This is the way all right,’ said Monkey. ‘Look! Just over there is a bridge. That’s the right way to Salvation.’

Presently Tripitaka came to a notice-board on which was written Cloud Reach Bridge. But it proved, when they came up to it, that the bridge consisted simply of slim tree trunks laid end on end, and was hardly wider than the palm of a man’s hand.

‘Monkey,’ protested Tripitaka in great alarm, ‘it’s not humanly possible to balance on such a bridge as that. We must find some other way to get across.’

‘This is the right way,’ said Monkey, grinning.

‘It may be the right way,’ said Pigsy, ‘but it’s so narrow and slippery that no one would ever dare set foot on it. And think how far there is to go, and what it’s like underneath.’

‘All wait where you are, and watch while I show you how,’ cried Monkey. Dear Monkey! He strode up to the bridge, leapt lightly onto it, and had soon slipped across. ‘I’m over!’ he shouted, waving from the other side. Tripitaka showed no sign of following him, and Pigsy and Sandy bit their fingers murmuring, ‘Can’t be done! Can’t be done!’ Monkey sprang back again and pulled at Pigsy, saying, ‘Fool, follow me across.’

But Pigsy lay on the ground and would not budge. ‘It’s much too slippery,’ he said. ‘Let me off. Why can’t I have a wind to carry me ?’

‘What would be the good of that?’ said Monkey. ‘Unless you go by the bridge you won’t turn into a Buddha.’

‘Buddha or no Buddha,’ said Pigsy, ‘I’m not going on to that bridge.’

The quarrel was at its height, when Sandy ran between them  and at last  succeeded in  making  peace.   Suddenly
Tripitaka saw someone punting a boat towards the shore and crying,’ Ferry, ferry!’

‘Stop your quarrelling, disciples,’ said Tripitaka. ‘A boat is coming.’

They all gazed with one accord at the spot to which he pointed. A boat was coming indeed; but when it was a little nearer they saw to their consternation that it had no bottom. Monkey with his sharp eyes had already recognized the ferryman as the Conductor of Souls, also called Light of the Banner. But he did not tell the others, merely crying ‘Ahoy, ferry, ahoy!’ When the boat was along shore, die ferryman again cried’ Ferry, ferry 1’

‘Your boat is broken and bottomless,’ said Tripitaka, much perturbed.’ How can you take people across ?’

‘You may well think,’ said the ferryman, ‘that in a bottomless boat such a river as this could never be crossed. But since the beginning of time I have carried countless souls to their Salvation.’

‘Get on board, Master,’ said Monkey. ‘You will find that this boat, although it has no bottom, is remarkably steady, however rough the waters may be.’

Seeing Tripitaka still hesitate, Monkey took him by the scruff of the neck and pushed him on board. There was nothing for Tripitaka’s feet to rest on, and he went straight into the water. The ferryman caught at him and dragged him up to the side of the boat. Sitting miserably there, he wrung out his clothes, shook out his shoes, and grumbled at Monkey for having got him into this scrape. But Monkey, taking no notice, put Pigsy and Sandy, horse and baggage, all on board, ensconcing them as best he could in the gunwale. The ferryman punted them dexterously out from shore. Suddenly they saw a body in the water, drifting rapidly down stream. Tripitaka stared at it in consternation. Monkey laughed.

‘Don’t be frightened, Master,’ he said. ‘That’s you.’

And Pigsy said, ‘It’s you, it’s you.’

Sandy clapped his hands. ‘It’s you, it’s you,’ he cried.

The ferryman too joined in the chorus. ‘Thereto* go!’ he cried. ‘My best congratulations.’ He went on punting, and in a very short while they were all safe and sound at the
other side. Tripitaka stepped lightly ashore. He had discarded his earthly body; he was cleansed from the corruption of the senses, from the fleshly inheritance of those bygone years. His was now the transcendent wisdom that leads to the Further Shore, the mastery that knows no bounds.

When they were at the top of the bank, they turned round and found to their astonishment that boat and ferryman had both vanished. Only then did Monkey tell them who the ferryman was. Tripitaka began thanking his disciples for all they had done for him. ‘Every one of us,’ said Monkey, ‘is equally indebted to the other. If the Master had not received our vows and accepted us as his disciples we should not have had the chance to do good works and win salvation. If we had not protected the Master and mounted guard over him, he would never have got rid of his mortal body. Look, Master, at this realm of flowers and happy creatures – of phoenixes, cranes, and deer. Is it not a better place indeed than the haunted deserts through which you and I have passed?’ Tripitaka still murmured his thanks, and with a strange feeling of lightness and exhilaration they all set off up the Holy Mountain and were soon in sight of the Temple of the Thunder Clap, with its mighty towers brushing the firmament, its giant foundations rooted in the seams of the Hill of Life.

Near the top of the hill they came upon a party of Upasakas filing through the green pinewoods, and under a clump of emerald cedars they saw bands of the Blessed. Tripitaka hastened to bow down to them. Worshippers male and female, monks and nuns pressed together the palms of their hands, crying, ‘Holy priest, it is not to us that your homage should be addressed. Wait till you have seen Sakyamuni, and afterwards come and greet us each according to his rank.’

‘He’s always in too much of a hurry,’ laughed Monkey. ‘Come along at once and let us pay our respects to the people at the top.’

Twitching with excitement Tripitaka followed Monkey to the gates of the Temple. Here they were met by the Vajrapani of the Four Elements.

‘So your Reverence has at last arrived I’ he exclaimed.

‘Your disciple Hsiian Tsang has indeed arrived,’ said Tripitaka, bowing.

‘I must trouble you to wait here a moment, till your arrival has been announced,’ said the Vajrapani.

He then gave instructions to the porter at the outer gate to tell the porter at the second gate that the Vajrapani wished to report that the priest from China had arrived. The porter at the second gate sent word to the porter at the third gate. At this gate were holy priests with direct access to the Powers Above. They hurried to the Great Hall and informed the Tathagata, the Most Honoured One, even Sakyamuni Buddha himself that the priest from the Court of China had arrived at the Mountain to fetch scriptures.

Father Buddha was delighted. He ordered the Bodhisattva, Vajrapanis, Arhats, Protectors, Planets, and Temple Guardians to form up in two lines. Then he gave orders that the priest of T’ang was to be shown in. Again the word was passed along from gate to gate: ‘The priest of Ta’ng is to be shown in.’ Tripitaka, Monkey, Pigsy, and Sandy, carefully following the rules of etiquette prescribed to them, all went forward, horse and baggage following. When they reached the Great Hall they first prostrated themselves before the Tathagata and then bowed to right and left. This they repeated three times, and then knelt before the Buddha and presented their passports. He looked through them one by one and handed them back to Tripitaka, who bent his head in acknowledgement, saying, ‘The disciple Hsiian Tsang has come by order of the Emperor of the great land of T’ang, all the way to this Holy Mountain, to fetch the true scriptures which are to be the salvation of all mankind. May the Lord Buddha accord this favour and grant me a quick return to my native land.’

Hereupon the Tathagata opened the mouth of compassion and gave vent to the mercy of his heart: ‘In all the vast and populous bounds of your Eastern Land, greed, slaughter, lust, and lying have long prevailed. There is no respect for Buddha’s teaching, no striving towards good works. So full and abundant is the measure of the people’s sins that they go down forever into the darkness of Hell, where some are
pounded in mortars, some take on animal form, furry and horned. In which guise they are done by as they did on earth, their flesh becoming men’s food. Confucius stood by their side teaching them all the virtues, king after king in vain corrected them with fresh penalties and pains. No law could curb their reckless debauches, no ray of wisdom penetrate their blindness.