The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (81 page)

That towered building, you see, had indeed been devised by a monster-spirit, who had spent the days ensnaring people at the place. As he sat in his
own
cave, he suddenly heard noises of complaint and expostulation. When he hurried out to have a look, he found two victims all tied up. The demon called up his little imps quickly and did away with the buildings and towers. The Tang Monk was seized, along with the white horse and the luggage. Then they herded all of them, including Eight Rules and Sha Monk, into the cave. After the old demon took his seat high in the middle, the little fiends pushed the Tang Monk forward and forced him to kneel down. “Where did you come from, monk?” asked the old demon. “How dare you be so bold as to steal my garments?”

As tears rolled down, the Tang Monk said, “This poor monk is someone sent by the Great Tang in the Land of the East to acquire scriptures in the Western Heaven. Stricken with hunger just now, I told my senior disciple to go to beg for food and he hasn’t returned. He told us to remain seated in the mountain, and if we had listened to him, we would not have trespassed your immortal court to find shelter from the cold wind. It was here that these two young disciples of mine grew covetous of small things after they found your clothes. Your poor monk certainly had no evil intentions, and they were told to return the vests to where they were found. Refusing to listen to me, they wanted to wear them just to warm their backs, and that was how they fell into the traps set by the Great King. Since you have caught me, I beg you to be merciful and spare my life so that I may proceed to acquire the true scriptures. I shall always be grateful for your grace and kindness, which I shall forever proclaim when I return to the Land of the East.”

“I have often heard,” said the demon, chuckling, “that if anyone eats a piece of the Tang Monk’s flesh, his white hair will turn black, and his fallen teeth will grow back once more. Today it is my good fortune that you have arrived without my beckoning. And you still expect me to spare you? What is the name of your big disciple? Where did he go to beg for food?” On hearing the question, Eight Rules said loudly and boastfully, “My Elder Brother is Sun Wukong, the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, who caused great havoc in Heaven five hundred years ago.”

When the demon heard that declaration, he became rather apprehensive. Though he did not utter a word, he thought to himself, “I have heard for a long time that that fellow has vast magic powers. I didn’t expect that I would meet him by chance like this.” Then he gave the order: “Little ones, tie them up also with two new ropes. Put them all in the rear. Wait until I have caught their big disciple. Then we can steam them all together to eat them.” The little fiends obeyed with a shout and tied up all three of them before they were carried to the rear. The white horse was chained in the stable and the luggage was left in the house. Then the various monster-spirits began sharpening their weapons to prepare to catch Pilgrim, and we shall leave them for the moment.

We
tell you now about Pilgrim Sun, who after he had stolen an alms bowlful of rice from the village in the south, mounted his cloud to return to where he began. By the time he reached the slope of the mountain and lowered his cloud, he saw that the Tang Monk was gone. The circle he drew with his rod could be seen on the ground, but neither the people nor the horse were anywhere in sight. He quickly turned his head to look toward the towered buildings and found that these, too, had disappeared. All he saw were strange rocks and mountain ridges. Aghast, Pilgrim said, “That’s it! They must have fallen into danger!” Following the tracks of the horse he hurried along the road toward the West.

He journeyed for about five or six miles, and as he became more and more dejected, he heard all at once someone speaking on the northern slope. When he looked, he saw that it was an old man, who had on a thick woolen robe, and his head was covered by a warm hat. On his feet he had on a pair of half-new leather boots which had been nicely waxed. He supported himself with a staff that had a dragon head, and he was followed by a young houseboy. The old man also carried a twig of winter-plum blossoms in his hand, and as he walked down the slope, he was humming some kind of song. Putting down his alms bowl, Pilgrim faced him and bowed, saying, “Old Grandpa, this humble priest salutes you.” Returning his bow, the old man said, “Where did you come from, elder?” Pilgrim said, “We came from the Land of the East, on our way to seek scriptures from Buddha in the Western Heaven. Master and disciples, there were altogether four of us. Because my master was hungry, I was sent to beg for some vegetarian food. I told the three of them to sit on a level spot by the mountain slope back there to wait for me. By the time I came back, however, they had disappeared. I don’t know which road they took. May I ask, Old Grandpa, whether you have seen them?” When the old man heard this, he snickered and said, “Was there someone with a long snout and huge ears among those three?” “Yes! Yes! Yes!” said Pilgrim.

“Was there also someone with a gloomy complexion tugging a white horse and leading a pale-faced stoutish monk?” “Yes! Yes! Yes!” said Pilgrim. The old man said, “You have taken the wrong road, all of you! Don’t bother to look for them. Each of you should flee for your life!” Pilgrim said, “The pale-faced one is my master, and those strange-looking priests are my younger brothers. They and I were united in our determination to go to the Western Heaven for scriptures. How could I not go to search for them?” “I passed through this region some time ago,” said the old man, “and I saw them taking the wrong road, which had to lead them straight into the mouth of demons.” “Old Grandpa,” said Pilgrim, “please tell me what kind of a demon there is and where does he live, so that I may demand their return at his door.”

The old man said, “This mountain is named the Golden Helmet Mountain, and in it there is a Golden Helmet Cave. The master of the cave is the
Great
King One-Horned Buffalo, who has vast magic powers and who is most capable in the martial arts. Your three companions this time must have lost their lives, and if you go there to search for them, I fear that you, too, may get yourself killed. Perhaps it’s better for you not to go. I don’t want to keep you from going, but I certainly am not going to encourage you either. It’s your decision.”

Bowing again and again to thank him, Pilgrim said, “I am grateful to the Old Grandpa for his instructions. But I cannot possibly give up my search!” He was about to pour out the rice that he took from the village in the south to give to the old man so that he could put away the empty bowl when the old man lay down his staff and took away the alms bowl. All at once the houseboy and the old man both revealed their true forms and went to their knees to kowtow. “Great Sage,” they cried in unison, “these humble deities dare not hide anything from you. We are the mountain god and the local spirit of this region, and we have come to receive you here. Let us keep the bowl and the rice for the moment, so that the Great Sage can exercise his power. When the Tang Monk is rescued, the rice will then be presented to him and he will appreciate what reverence and devotion the Great Sage has shown him.”

“You are asking to be beaten, clumsy ghosts!” bellowed Pilgrim. “If you knew that I had arrived, why didn’t you show up earlier to meet me? Why must you come in shabby disguises?” “The Great Sage is rather impetuous,” said the local spirit, “and this humble deity dares not confront you directly. That’s why we camouflage ourselves to report to you.” Calming down more and more, Pilgrim said, “I’ll only make a note of your beating this time! Take care of that alms bowl for me, and let me go and catch that monster-spirit.” The local spirit and the mountain god obeyed.

Tightening his sash on his tiger-skin kilt which he hitched up, our Great Sage dashed into the mountain to look for the fiend’s cave, holding high his golden-hooped rod. He passed one of the cliffs and saw more strange boulders and two stone doors just beneath a green ledge. In front of the doors were many little imps, wielding lances and waving swords. Truly there were

    
Mists in auspicious folds;

    
Moss in bluish clumps;

    
Strange rugged rocks stood in array;

    
Rough winding paths coiled round and round.

    
Apes cried and birds sang in this lovely scene;

    
Phoenixes, male and female, danced as in Peng-Ying.
⁵

    
A few plums, facing the east, began to bloom;

    
Warmed by the sun, the bamboos displayed their green.

    
Beneath the steep ridge—

    
Within
the deep brook—

    
Beneath the steep ridge snow piled high like powder;

    
Within the deep brook water froze as ice.

    
Pines and cedars fresh for a thousand years;

    
Bunches of mountain tea all glowing red.

As he did not go there merely to admire the scenery, our Great Sage strode up to the doors and cried out in a severe voice, “Little imps! Go inside quickly and tell your cave master that I am Sun Wukong, the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, and the disciple of the holy monk from the Tang court. Tell him to send out my master quickly so that all of your lives may be spared.”

That group of fiends dashed inside to report, “Great King, there is a hairy-faced priest with a curved beak outside. He calls himself Sun Wukong, the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, and he has come to demand the return of his master.” When he heard this announcement, the demon king was delighted. “I wanted him to come!” he said. “Since I left my former palace and descended to earth, I have never had a chance to practice martial art. Today he is here and he will be a worthy opponent.” He gave the order at once for his weapon to be brought out, and every one of those fiends, young and old, in the cave aroused himself. They hurriedly hauled out a twelve-foot-long spotted-steel lance to present to the old fiend. Then the old fiend gave this order: “Little ones, all of you must follow orders. Those who advance will be rewarded; those who retreat will be executed.” The fiends all obeyed and followed the old demon, who, when he walked out of the cave, asked aloud, “Who is Sun Wukong?” On one side Pilgrim took a look at that demon king and saw that he was ugly and ferocious indeed:

    
A jagged, single horn;

    
A pair of gleaming eyes;

    
Coarse skin swelling up from his head;

    
Dark flesh glowing beneath his ears.

    
A long tongue oft’ licking his nose;

    
A wide mouth full of yellow teeth.

    
His hide is like indigo blue;

    
His tendons are tough as steel.

    
Rhino-like, though he can’t light up the stream;
⁶

    
Steer-like, though he can’t plow the fields.

    
He has no use at all for tilling the soil,

    
Though he has the strength to shake Heav’n and Earth.

    
His two dyed-blue hands with tendons brown

    
Grasp firmly the long, straight, spotted-steel lance.

    
You’ll see why, if you stare at his fierce form,

    
He’s called Great King One-Horned Buffalo.

Pilgrim
Sun walked up to him and said, “Your Grandpa Sun is here! Give me back my master quickly, and you will suffer no harm. Utter but half a ‘No,’ and I’ll see to it that you die faster than you can select your burial ground!” “You audacious, brazen monkey-spirit!” shouted the demon. “What abilities do you have that you dare indulge in such tall talk?” “You brazen fiend,” said Pilgrim, “it’s only you who has never seen the abilities of old Monkey!” The demon said, “Your master stole some garments of mine and I caught him all right. And now I am just about to have him steamed and eaten. What kind of a warrior are you that you dare demand his return at my door?” “My master is an honest and upright priest,” said Pilgrim. “It’s impossible that he should want to steal things from a fiend like you!” The demon replied, “I created an immortal village beside the mountain, and your master sneaked into one of the buildings. What he saw he coveted, and he took three of my vests of silk brocade and put them on. I had proof derived from both the stolen goods and witnesses, and that was why I seized him. If you indeed are able, you should try your hand with me. If you can withstand me for three rounds, I will spare your master’s life. If you can’t, I’ll send you to the Region of Darkness!”

With a laugh, Pilgrim said, “Brazen creature! No need for this bravado! If you speak of trying my hand, you are after old Monkey’s own heart. Come up here and have a taste of my rod!” The fiendish creature, of course, was in no wise afraid of any combat. Raising his lance, he stabbed at Pilgrim’s face. This was quite a marvelous battle! Look at

    
The golden-hooped rod upraised—

    
The long-shaft ed lance going out—