The Prince and the Zombie (4 page)

“Mind your own business. I am a merchant and I need this extraordinarily beautiful cat's fur. I'll get a good price for it in the market,” said the man without pity. As he had the previous times, the young guitar player made a bargain to save the life of the mortally endangered animal. When the merchant saw the piece of gold, he did not hesitate long before taking the money. Thus the cat was saved and it quickly ran off into the wild.

“What a strange day,” thought Dranyen Tsikshipa, continuing down the road at a lively pace. He was very happy because he had been able to save the lives of three poor animals and at the same time prevent three men from committing an irreparable deed and thus accumulating bad karma.

After some time, he had the unpleasant feeling that he was being watched and followed by someone. To his great surprise, he saw that it was the same cat and the same dog whose lives he had saved.

“Woof, woof!” “Meow, meow!” they said. The two animals wanted no more than just to accompany him on his wanderings through the country. Touched, he accepted them as his traveling companions.

Night fell and they came to a vast empty plain. Little by little, they began to feel tired and hungry. Near a small rock, they decided to stop and eat a little
tsampa
and dried yak meat, which they divided three ways. After this small, typically Tibetan meal, they fell asleep at once, bundled against each other to keep warm. Fortunately, the musician had with him a coat of fur-lined yak leather that held the heat well.

Early the following morning, the rising sun woke the three friends, and they were about to resume their journey when they spied an immense palace, very splendid, rising in the middle of this vast plain, which the previous evening had appeared totally uninhabited. Before they could recover from their amazement, they saw a group of richly dressed young men and women coming out of the palace's majestic portal. The group moved in the direction of the small rock where the three friends were standing, their mouths gaping with disbelief. Very respectfully the group of young people approached them, and one of them, with great courtesy, addressed Dranyen Tsikshipa in the pure Tibetan of Lhasa: “Highly honorable guitarist, the omnipotent and splendid princess of this palace has sent us to welcome you into her country and to invite you to share with her her midday meal. Kindly grant her the honor of your presence and that of your two friends.”

The prince, unable to grasp what was happening, believing himself to be in the middle of a beautiful dream, could not utter a single word, but he soon found himself following the group into the palace, accompanied by his two faithful friends. Inside, they saw other people still more beautifully and richly dressed and adorned than the group that had come to meet them.

At last, in a great, splendidly decorated hall, they set eyes upon a young woman of unreal beauty, surpassing in splendor and richness all others in the hall. At this moment, this almost magical apparition addressed the musician in a very sweet voice:

“I am the princess of the
naga
people, protectors of nature. I have the custom of transforming myself into a white serpent when I rove through the countryside. In a moment of inattention, I was captured and almost killed by the herdsman of a flock of goats. Filled with compassion, you saved my life. Therefore I am inviting you to have a seat at my table with your friends and share a meal with me.”

Still thinking he was dreaming, Dranyen Tsikshipa took his seat at the table and did full justice to the sumptuous array of dishes he found there. The dog, who was a gregarious type with a ready palate, did not need to be asked twice and ate until he almost fell asleep on one of the tables. The cat, who had a more timid temperament, looked at all the good things set out on the immense and groaning board, and felt a little embarrassed to be seen taking too many helpings. But all three of them ate their fill and enjoyed the most wonderful moments of their lives.

At the end of this lavish meal, the princess announced: “And now I would very much like to fulfill the most dearly held wish of my rescuer. What would you like?”

The musician, surprised by this offer and not knowing what to say, did not even dare to look at the princess, so he lowered his eyes. In so doing, his gaze fell upon a beautiful jewel on the finger of his benefactress. So he said, “Nothing more than that simple ring on your finger would be the joy of my life.”

Suddenly very ill at ease, the princess replied, “You can have any of the riches of the world, but not this ring. It is the very source of my life force.”

But the artist stubbornly stuck to his idea, and in the end the princess yielded, telling herself that, after all, he had saved her life and she could refuse him nothing. But she set this condition: “I beg of you, this ring should not be worn by anyone beside yourself, and you must at no time let it fall into anyone else's hands.”

The guitar player, whose heart was pure, gave her his solemn promise. The princess added that in case of difficulty, her people and she herself would come to his aid if only he scratched the ring a little.

Thus it was that the three friends took leave of this marvelous company and set forth once more on their journey.

After having gone a certain distance, the artist and his friends turned around to have a last look at the palace, but to their great astonishment, it had disappeared and the vast plain appeared as deserted as before. The three friends almost thought that they had dreamed the whole adventure, but Dranyen Tsikshipa felt the princess's ring on his finger—the precious proof of what he had just experienced.

Carried away by the sly spirit's magnificent tale, Prince Dechö Zangpo's vigilance lapsed and he let the following words escape his lips: “Oh, how I would love, once in my life, to lay eyes on this beautiful
naga
princess!”

Instantly the sack on the prince's back opened all by itself and released its prisoner, Ngödrup Dorje. Gloating hugely, the zombie declared, “Here is the blow you deserve for talking back!” and he disappeared in a puff of wind.

Too late, the prince realized his fatal error. He was left all alone in this desolate region with an immense feeling of remorse and failure. “
Nga kugpa!
What an idiot I am!” he cried, full of anger toward himself. But neither his anger nor the tears that followed changed the situation in the least. Finally the prince regained his composure, took a firm hold on his courage, and decided to continue with the mission he had been given by the guru Gömpo Ludrup. The next time, he firmly resolved, he would be more vigilant.

5

Hunting Down the Zombie Again

S
O IT WAS
that Prince Dechö Zangpo once again traveled across the whole breadth of the kingdom in order to return to India to the place described by the spiritual master, the dwelling place of the dead. He had hardly arrived there when he was surrounded by large numbers of dead beings elbowing each other and all calling out at the same time: “
Halala!
” and “
Hululu!
” “I am the one you are looking for. Take me! Take me!”

Again, following the teacher's instructions, he touched the heads of the dead beings with the cone-shaped red object, repeating over and over, “You are not the one. You are not the one.” This caused them to flee immediately.

Looking around, he saw a dead being who had a very singular appearance. The top of him was gold, the bottom of him was silver, and he had a mane of pure turquoise. As the guru had predicted, this one fled to the top of a sandalwood tree, saying, “I am not the right one! I am not the right one!” Having successfully located the zombie Ngödrup Dorje, “He Who Fulfills All Dreams,” the prince took up the second object the guru had given him, the ax, with which he lightly touched the sandalwood tree. This simple action alone made the top of the tree tremble, and the prince began to speak to Ngödrup Dorje: “Come down to the ground. If you don't, I will cut down this sandalwood tree.”

Very cunning and sure of being invincible, the spirit replied, “Poor prince, you will tire yourself out. Therefore I will be the one to make the effort, and I'll come down to where you are.”

The prince grabbed him and put him in the sack, which immediately adjusted to the size of its captive. Then at once the prince tied the sack up with the magic rope. Because the prince was still carrying the red cone in his hand, the other dead beings did not approach again. Well content, the prince started out on the return journey with the intention of placing his precious burden before the guru as quickly as possible.

On the sixth day, when the prince again was crossing the great barren plain, Ngödrup Dorje began speaking to him in a very sweet and soothing voice: “In this desolate region, there are no people and you will not find a place to rest, not even a place the size of a prairie-dog dropping. So to make this long journey a little more pleasant, I propose two solutions. Either you, who are a living being, tell me a story, or I, who am a dead being, will tell you one.”

The prince, who was very much on his guard, did not utter a word, and so the zombie picked up where he had left off telling the adventures of the guitar player and his friends.

6

The Guitar Player and the Quality of Vigilance

A
S THEY WENT ALONG
their way, the three friends met a merchant who pretended to enjoy the music of the guitar player very much and invited them to come to his house for tea. On the high Tibetan plateau, also called the Roof of the World, it is important to drink tea with salted butter regularly, from morning till night. This national drink is more than just ordinary tea—it is a rich brew based on black tea that is very comforting and provides lots of physical force.

Not hesitating, the friends blithely accepted this invitation. After the meal, the musician allowed himself to be drawn into a game of
sho
, a dice game that is traditional in Tibet and is played for hours at a time with two, three, or four players. The merchant had gotten around a great deal in his life; he had certainly spotted the special ring on the musician's finger, and he intended to get it away from the young man by any means. Deviously, he cheated at the game of dice. Little by little, the musician lost all the money and gold pieces he had earned through his music. Then, without regret, because he was not very attached to wealth, he prepared to leave with his two friends, who were bored stiff. However, exercising his considerable powers of persuasion, his cunning host succeeded in getting the musician to stay for a final game of
sho
, in which the merchant declared he would stake all the money and gold pieces he had won against the musician's ring. The warnings of his two four-footed friends were of no avail, for the guitar player had drunk not only tea but also a few bowls of
chang
, a beer made with barley very much appreciated by many Tibetans. Under the influence of the alcohol, he had become quite reckless and readily consented to a final game. But the merchant cheated, and the unfortunate young man lost yet again. This time it was the precious gift of the
naga
princess that changed hands. The worst had occurred. All of a sudden, the musician realized what had taken place—that he had stupidly allowed his dishonest host to get him drunk and rob him. But it was too late! As friendly and hospitable as the merchant had been at the beginning, that is how hard and malevolent he became the moment that his ends had been achieved. With the help of his hired henchmen and his formidable guard dog, a mastiff bred by Tibetan nomads, he threw all three of the friends out onto the street.

Sad and at the same time furious with himself, the musician departed along with his friends. The three of them together gave the impression of a funeral procession as they walked in silence one behind the other, heads down and with a downcast air. The cat, unable to bear seeing his friend in such a state of despair, began thinking how he might be able to remedy the situation. Then he remembered a very old and good friend of his, a mouse with a lively mind who had the ability to deal with any circumstances. Without mentioning it to anyone, the cat got in touch with his old friend, told him what had happened, and asked him what they might be able to do to recover the ring taken by the dishonest merchant. The mouse had an excellent idea. It snuck into the thief's house—right under the nose of the guard dog, who saw nothing but a brief flicker—and found the bedroom where the merchant was snoring away. The whole room smelled from
chang
. Apparently, the culprit had celebrated his victory with plenty of drink. His heavy slumber facilitated the little mouse's job. It was easily able to take back the ring, which the merchant had left on his night table. Fortunately for the
naga
princess, the ring had been too small for his finger, and he had set it to the side, hoping to get a tidy sum for it.