第十三回

第十三回 陷虎穴金星解厄 双叉岭伯钦留僧

诗曰：

大有唐王降敕封，钦差玄奘问禅宗。

坚心磨琢寻龙穴，着意修持上鹫峰。

边界远游多少国，云山前度万千重。

自今别驾投西去，秉教迦持悟大空。

却说三藏自贞观十三年九月望前三日[1]，蒙唐王与多官送出长安关外，一二日马不停蹄，早至法门寺。本寺住持上房长老，带领众僧有五百馀人，两边罗列，接至里面，相见献茶。茶罢进斋。斋后不觉天晚。正是那：

影动星河近，月明无点尘。

雁声鸣远汉，砧韵响西邻。

归鸟栖枯树，禅僧讲梵音。

蒲团一榻上，坐到夜将分。

众僧们灯下议论佛门定旨，上西天取经的原由。有的说水远山高，有的说路多虎豹；有的说峻岭陡崖难度，有的说毒魔恶怪难降。三藏拑口不言，但以手指自心，点头几度。众僧们莫解其意，合掌请问道：“法师指心点头者，何也？”三藏答曰：“心生，种种魔生；心灭，种种魔灭。我弟子曾在化生寺对佛设下洪誓大愿，不由我不尽此心。这一去，定要到西天，见佛求经，使我们法轮回转，愿圣王皇图永固。”众僧闻得此言，人人称羡，个个宣扬，都叫一声：“忠心赤胆大阐法师！”夸赞不尽，请师入榻安寐。

早又是竹敲残月落，鸡唱晓云生。那众僧起来，收拾茶水早斋。玄奘遂穿了袈裟，上正殿，佛前礼拜，道：“弟子陈玄奘，前往西天取经，但肉眼愚迷，不识活佛真形。今愿立誓：路中逢庙烧香，遇佛拜佛，遇塔扫塔。但愿我佛慈悲，早现丈六金身，赐真经，留传东土。”祝罢，回方丈进斋。斋毕，那二从者整顿了鞍马，促趱[2]行程。三藏出了山门，辞别众僧。众僧不忍分别，直送有十里之遥，噙泪而返。三藏遂直西前进。正是那季秋天气，但见：

数村木落芦花碎，几树枫杨红叶坠。路途烟雨故人稀，黄菊丽，山骨细，水寒荷破人憔悴。　白红蓼霜天雪，落霞孤鹜长空坠。依稀黯淡野云飞，玄鸟去，宾鸿至，嘹嘹呖呖声宵碎。

师徒们行了数日，到了巩州城。早有巩州合属官吏人等，迎接入城中。安歇一夜，次早出城前去。一路饥餐渴饮，夜住晓行者三日，又至河州卫，此乃是大唐的山河边界。早有镇边的总兵与本处僧道，闻得是钦差御弟法师，上西方见佛，无不恭敬，接至里面供给了，着僧纲请往福原寺安歇。本寺僧人一一参见，安排晚斋。斋毕，分付二从者饱喂马匹，天不明就行。及鸡方鸣，随唤从者，却又惊动寺僧，整治茶汤斋供。斋罢，出离边界。

这长老心忙，太起早了。原来此时秋深时节，鸡鸣得早，只好有四更天气。一行三人，连马四口，迎着清霜，看着明月，行有数十里远近，见一山岭，只得拨草寻路，说不尽嵠岖难走，又恐怕错了路径。正疑思之间，忽然失足，三人连马都跌落坑坎之中。三藏心慌，从者胆战。却才悚惧，又闻得里面哮吼高呼，叫：“拿将来！拿将来！”只见狂风滚滚，拥出五六十个妖邪，将三藏、从者揪了上去。这法师战战兢兢的偷睛观看，上面坐的那魔王十分凶恶，真个是：

雄威身凛凛，猛气貌堂堂。

电目飞光艳，雷声振四方。

锯牙舒口外，凿齿露腮旁。

锦绣围身体，文斑裹脊梁。

钢须稀见肉，钩爪利如霜。

东海黄公[3]惧，南山白额王。

唬得个三藏魂飞魄散，二从者骨软筋麻。魔王喝令绑了，众妖一齐将三人用绳索绑缚。正要安排吞食，只听得外面喧哗，有人来报：“熊山君与特处士二位来也。”三藏闻言，抬头观看，前走的是一条黑汉。你道他是怎生模样：

雄豪多胆量，轻健夯[4]身躯。

涉水惟凶力，跑林逞怒威。

向来符吉梦，今独露英姿。

绿树能攀折，知寒善谕时。

唯灵惟显处，故此号山君。

又见那后边来的是一条胖汉。你道怎生模样：

嵯峨双角冠，端肃耸肩背。

性服青衣稳，蹄步多迟滞。

宗名父作牯，原号母称牸[5]。

能为田者功，因名特处士。

这两个摇摇摆摆，走入里面，慌得那魔王奔出迎接。熊山君道：“寅将军，一向得意。可贺！可贺！”特处士道：“寅将军丰姿胜常。真可喜！真可喜！”魔王道：“二公连日如何？”山君道：“惟守素耳。”处士道：“惟随时耳。”三个叙罢，各坐谈笑。

只见那从者绑得痛切悲啼。那黑汉道：“此三者何来？”魔王道：“自送上门来者。”处士笑云：“可能待客否？”魔王道：“奉承！奉承！”山君道：“不可尽用，食其二，留其一可也。”魔王领诺，即呼左右，将二从者剖腹剜心，剁碎其尸。将首级与心肝奉献二客，将四肢自食，其馀骨肉尽分给各妖。只听得啯啅[6]之声，真似虎啖羊羔，霎时食尽。把一个长老，几乎唬死。这才是初出长安第一场苦难。

正怆慌之间，渐渐的东方发白。那二怪至天晓方散，俱道：“今日厚扰，容日竭诚奉酬。”方一拥而退。不一时，红日高升。三藏昏昏沉沉，也辨不得东西南北。正在那不得命处，忽然见一老叟，手持拄杖而来，走上前用手一拂，绳索皆断。对面吹了一口气，三藏方苏，跪拜于地道：“多谢老公公搭救贫僧性命！”老叟答礼道：“你起来。你可曾疏失了甚么东西？”三藏道：“贫僧的从人，已是被怪食了。只不知行李、马匹在于何处？”老叟用杖指定道：“那厢不是一匹马，两个包袱？”三藏回头看时，果是他的物件，并不曾失落，心才略放下些，问老叟曰：“老公公，此处是甚所在？公公何由在此？”老叟道：“此是双叉岭，乃虎狼巢穴处。你为何堕此？”三藏道：“贫僧鸡鸣时出河州卫界，不料起得早了，冒霜拨露，忽失落此地。见一魔王，凶顽太甚，将贫僧与二从者绑了。又见一条黑汉，称是熊山君；一条胖汉，称是特处士；走进来，称那魔王是寅将军。他三个把我二从者吃了，天光才散。不想我是那里有这大缘大分，感得老公公来此救我？”老叟道：“处士者是个野牛精，山君者是个熊罴精，寅将军者是个老虎精。左右妖邪，尽都是山精树鬼，怪兽苍狼。只因你的本性元明，所以吃不得你。你跟我来，引你上路。”三藏不胜感激，将包袱捎在马上，牵着缰绳，相随老叟径出了坑坎之中，走上大路。却将马拴在道旁草头上，转身拜谢那公公，那公公遂化作一阵清风，跨一只朱顶白鹤，腾空而去。只见风飘飘遗下一张简帖，书上四句颂子。颂子云：

“吾乃西天太白星，特来搭救汝生灵。

前行自有神徒助，莫为艰难报怨经。”

三藏看了，对天礼拜道：“多谢金星，度脱此难。”拜毕，牵了马匹，独自个孤孤恓恓，往前苦进。这岭上真个是：

寒飒飒雨林风，响潺潺涧下水。香馥馥野花开，密丛丛乱石磊。闹嚷嚷鹿与猿，一队队獐和麂。喧杂杂鸟声多，静悄悄人事靡。那长老，战兢兢心不宁；这马儿，力怯怯蹄难举。

三藏舍身拼命，上了那峻岭之间。行经半日，更不见个人烟村舍。一则腹中饥了，二则路又不平。正在危急之际，只见前面有两只猛虎咆哮，后边有几条长蛇盘绕；左有毒虫，右有怪兽。三藏孤身无策，只得放下身心，听天所命。又无奈那马腰软蹄弯，便屎俱下，伏倒在地，打又打不起，牵又牵不动。苦得个法师衬身无地，真个有万分凄楚，已自分必死，莫可奈何。

却说他虽有灾迍[7]，却有救应。正在那不得命处，忽然见毒虫奔走，妖兽飞逃，猛虎潜踪，长蛇隐迹。三藏抬头看时，只见一人，手执钢叉，腰悬弓箭，自那山坡前转出，果然是一条好汉。你看他：

头上戴一顶艾叶花斑豹皮帽，身上穿一领羊绒织锦叵罗衣，腰间束一条狮蛮带，脚下一对麂皮靴。环眼圆睛如吊客[8]，圈须乱扰似河奎。悬一囊毒药弓矢，拿一杆点钢大叉。雷声震破山虫胆，勇猛惊残野雉魂。

三藏见他来得渐近，跪在路旁，合掌高叫道：“大王救命！大王救命！”那条汉到边前，放下钢叉，用手搀起道：“长老休怕。我不是歹人。我是这山中的猎户，姓刘名伯钦，绰号镇山太保。我才自来，要寻两只山虫食用，不期遇着你，多有冲撞。”三藏道：“贫僧是大唐驾下钦差往西天拜佛求经的和尚。适间来到此处，遇着些狼虎蛇虫，四边围绕，不能前进。忽见太保来，众兽皆走，救了贫僧性命。多谢！多谢！”伯钦道：“我在这里住人，专倚打些狼虎为生，捉些蛇虫过活，故此众兽怕我，走了。你既是唐朝来的，与我都是乡里。此间还是大唐的地界，我也是唐朝的百姓，我和你同食皇王的水土，诚然是一国之人。你休怕，跟我来。到我舍下歇马，明朝我送你上路。”三藏闻言，满心欢喜，谢了伯钦，牵马随行。

过了山坡，又听得呼呼风响。伯钦道：“长老休走，坐在此间。风响处，是个山猫来了。等我拿他家去管待你。”三藏见说，又胆战心惊，不敢举步。那太保执了钢叉，拽开步，迎将上去。只见一只斑斓虎，对面撞见。他看见伯钦，急回头就走。这太保霹雳一声，咄道：“那业畜！那里走！”那虎见赶，急转身抡爪扑来。这太保三股叉举手迎敌，唬得个三藏软瘫在草地。这和尚自出娘肚皮，那曾见这样凶险的勾当？太保与那虎在那山坡下，人虎相持，果是一场好斗。但见：

怒气纷纷，狂风滚滚。怒气纷纷，太保冲冠多膂力；狂风滚滚，斑彪逞势喷红尘。那一个张牙舞爪，这一个转步回身。三股叉擎天幌日，千花尾扰雾飞云。这一个当胸乱刺，那一个劈面来吞。闪过的再生人道，撞着的定见阎君。只听得那斑彪哮吼，太保声哏[9]。斑彪哮吼，振裂山川惊鸟兽；太保声哏，喝开天府现星辰。那一个金睛怒出，这一个壮胆生嗔。可爱镇山刘太保，堪夸据地兽之君。人虎贪生争胜负，些儿有慢丧三魂。

他两个斗了有一个时辰，只见那虎爪慢腰松，被太保举叉平胸刺倒，可怜呵，钢叉尖穿透心肝，霎时间血流满地。揪着耳朵，拖上路来。好男子！气不连喘，面不改色，对三藏道：“造化！造化！这只山猫，够长老食用几日。”三藏夸赞不尽，道：“太保真山神也！”伯钦道：“有何本事，敢劳过奖？这个是长老的洪福。去来！赶早儿剥了皮，煮些肉，管待你也。”他一只手执着叉，一只手拖着虎，在前引路。三藏牵着马，随后而行。迤逦行过山坡，忽见一座山庄。那门前真个是：

参天古树，漫路荒藤。万壑风尘冷，千崖气象奇。一径野花香袭体，数竿幽竹绿依依。卓门楼，篱笆院，堪描堪画；石板桥，白土壁，真乐真稀。秋容潇索，爽气孤高。道傍黄叶落，岭上白云飘。疏林内山禽聒聒，庄门外细犬嘹嘹。

伯钦到了门首，将死虎掷下，叫：“小的们何在？”只见走出三四个家僮，都是怪形恶相之类，上前拖拖拉拉，把只虎扛将进去。伯钦分付教：“赶早剥了皮，安排将来待客。”复回头迎接三藏进内。彼此相见，三藏又拜谢伯钦厚恩怜悯救命。伯钦道：“同乡之人，何劳致谢。”坐定茶罢，有一老妪领着一个媳妇，对三藏进礼。伯钦道：“此是家母、山妻。”三藏道：“请令堂上坐，贫僧奉拜。”老妪道：“长老远客，各请自珍，不劳拜罢。”伯钦道：“母亲呵，他是唐王驾下差往西天见佛求经者。适间在岭头上遇着孩儿，孩儿念一国之人，请他来家歇马，明日送他上路。”老妪闻言，十分欢喜道：“好！好！好！就是请他，不得这般恰好。明日你父亲周忌[10]，就浼[11]长老做些好事，念卷经文，到后日送他去罢。”这刘伯钦虽是一个杀虎手，镇山的太保，他却有些孝顺之心。闻得母言，就要安排香纸，留住三藏。

说话间，不觉的天色将晚。小的们排开桌凳，拿几盘烂熟虎肉，热腾腾的放在上面。伯钦请三藏权用，再另办饭。三藏合掌当胸道：“善哉！贫僧不瞒太保说：自出娘胎就做和尚，更不晓得吃荤。”伯钦闻得此说，沉吟了半晌道：“长老，寒家历代以来，不晓得吃素；就是有些竹笋，采些木耳，寻些干菜，做些豆腐，也都是獐鹿虎豹的油煎，却无甚素处。有两眼锅灶，也都是油腻透了。这等奈何？反是我请长老的不是。”三藏道：“太保不必多心，请自受用。我贫僧就是三五日不吃饭，也可忍饿，只是不敢破了斋戒。”伯钦道：“倘或饿死，却如之何？”三藏道：“感得太保天恩，搭救出虎狼丛里，就是饿死，也强如喂虎。”伯钦的母亲闻说，叫道：“孩儿不要与长老闲讲，我自有素物，可以管待。”伯钦道：“素物何来？”母亲道：“你莫管我，我自有素的。”叫媳妇将小锅取下，着火烧了油腻，刷了又刷，洗了又洗，却仍安在灶上。先烧半锅滚水别用；却又将些山地榆叶子，着水煎作茶汤；然后将些黄粱粟米，煮起饭来；又把些干菜煮熟；盛了两碗，拿出来铺在桌上。老母对三藏道：“长老请斋。这是老身与儿妇亲自动手，整理的些极洁极净的茶饭。”三藏下来谢了，方才上坐。那伯钦另设一处，铺排些没盐没酱的老虎肉、香獐肉、蟒蛇肉、狐狸肉、兔肉点剁[12]、鹿肉干巴，满盘满碗的，陪着三藏吃斋。方坐下，心欲举箸，只见三藏合掌诵经，唬得个伯钦不敢动箸，急起身立在旁边。三藏念不数句，却教：“请斋。”伯钦道：“你是个念短头经的和尚？”三藏道：“此非是经，乃是一卷揭斋之咒。”伯钦道：“你们出家人，偏有许多计较，吃饭便也念诵念诵。”

吃了斋饭，收了盘碗，渐渐天晚，伯钦引着三藏出中宅，到后边走走。穿过夹道，有一座草亭。推开门，入到里面，只见那四壁上挂几张强弓硬弩，插几壶箭；过梁上搭两块血腥的虎皮；墙根头插着许多枪刀叉棒；正中间设两张坐器。伯钦请三藏坐坐。三藏见这般凶险腌脏，不敢久坐，遂出了草亭。又往后再行，是一座大园子，却看不尽那丛丛菊蕊堆黄，树树枫杨挂赤。又见呼的一声，跑出十来只肥鹿，一大阵黄獐，见了人，呢呢痴痴[13]，更不恐惧。三藏道：“这獐鹿想是太保养家了的？”伯钦道：“似你那长安城中人家，有钱的集财宝，有庄的集聚稻粮；似我们这打猎的，只得聚养些野兽，备天阴耳。”他两个说话闲行，不觉黄昏，复转前宅安歇。

次早，那家老小都起来，就整素斋，管待长老，请开启念经。这长老净了手，同太保家堂[14]前拈了香，拜了家堂，三藏方敲响木鱼，先念了净口业的真言，又念了净身心的神咒，然后开《度亡经》一卷。诵毕，伯钦又请写荐亡疏一道。再开念《金刚经》、《观音经》，一一朗音高诵。诵毕，吃了午斋，又念《法华经》、《弥陀经》。各诵几卷，又念一卷《孔雀经》，及谈苾蒭洗业的故事[15]。早又天晚。献过了种种香火，化了众神纸马，烧了荐亡文疏。佛事已毕，又各安寝。

却说那伯钦的父亲之灵，超荐得脱沉沦，鬼魂儿早来到东家宅内，托一梦与合宅长幼道：“我在阴司里苦难难脱，日久不得超生。今幸得圣僧，念了经卷，消了我的罪业，阎王差人送我上中华富地、长者人家托生去了。你们可好生谢送长老，不要怠慢，不要怠慢。我去也。”这才是：万法庄严端有意，荐亡离苦出沉沦。那合家儿梦醒，又早太阳东上。伯钦的娘子道：“太保，我今夜梦见公公来家，说他在阴司苦难难脱，日久不得超生。今幸得圣僧念了经卷，消了他的罪业，阎王差人送他上中华富地、长者人家托生去，教我们好生谢那长老，不得怠慢。他说罢，径出门，徉徜去了。我们叫他不应，留他不住，醒来却是一梦。”伯钦道：“我也是那等一梦，与你一般。我们起去对母亲说去。”他两口子正欲去说，只见老母叫道：“伯钦孩儿，你来，我与你说话。”二人至前，老母坐在床上道：“儿呵，我今夜得了个喜梦，梦见你父亲来家，说多亏了长老超度，已消了罪业，上中华富地、长者家去托生。”夫妻们俱呵呵大笑道：“我与媳妇皆有此梦，正来告禀，不期母亲呼唤，也是此梦。”遂叫一家大小起来，安排谢意，替他收拾马匹，都至前拜谢道：“多谢长老超荐我亡父脱难超生，报答不尽！”三藏道：“贫僧有何能处，敢劳致谢？”

伯钦把三口儿的梦话，对三藏陈诉一遍，三藏也喜。早供给了素斋，又具白银一两为谢。三藏分文不受。一家儿又恳恳拜央，三藏毕竟分文未受，但道：“是你肯发慈悲送我一程，足感至爱。”伯钦与母、妻无奈，急做了些粗面烧饼干粮，叫伯钦远送。三藏欢喜收纳。太保领了母命，又唤两三个家僮，各带捕猎的器械，同上大路。看不尽那山中野景，岭上风光。

行经半日，只见对面处有一座大山，真个是高接青霄，崔巍险峻。三藏不一时到了边前，那太保登此山如行平地。正走到半山之中，伯钦回身立于路下道：“长老，你自前进，我却告回。”三藏闻言，滚鞍下马道：“千万敢劳太保再送一程！”伯钦道：“长老不知：此山唤做两界山。东半边属我大唐所管，西半边乃是鞑靼的地界。那厢狼虎，不伏我降，我却也不能过界，故此告回，你自去罢。”三藏心惊，抡开手，牵衣执袂，滴泪难分。正在叮咛拜别之际，只听得山脚下叫喊如雷道：“我师父来也！我师父来也！”唬得个三藏痴呆，伯钦打挣。毕竟不知是甚人叫喊，且听下回分解。

[1] 望前三日：指十二日。古代以每月十五日为望日。

[2] 促趱（zǎn）：催着快走。

[3] 东海黄公：古代传说东海有个叫黄公的人，能用法术治虎。后年迈力衰，饮酒过度，不能复行其术，结果被虎吃了。

[4] 夯（bèn）：蠢、笨。后文第十九回的“夯货”，则是骂人蠢东西。

[5] 牸（zì）：一般指雌性牲畜。此处指母牛。前文“牯”指公牛。

[6] 啯（ɡuō）啅（zhuó）：形容吞咽食物的声音。

[7] 灾迍（zhūn）：灾祸，困顿。

[8] 吊客：与下文的“河奎”，都是古代凶神名字。

[9] 哏（hěn）：同“狠”，后文第十五回的哏哏，就是狠狠的意思。

[10] 周忌：死者的周年纪念日。

[11] 浼（měi）：请求，央求。

[12] 点剁：剁碎的肉。

[13] 呢呢痴痴：形容柔驯无猜的神态。

[14] 家堂：原指安放祖先神位的房间，后也指祖先的神位。

[15] 苾（bì）蒭（chú）洗业的故事：佛教相传，如来在给孤独园东北一座塔下，看见一个愁苦独居的修行人，如来问他：“为甚么独居愁苦？”他说：“有病无人看顾。”如来用手抚摩他，他的病就好了。如来将他扶出屋外，给他盥洗，改穿新衣，劝他努力。这个修行人，从此心身感到非常的愉快。这个故事，佛教称为“苾蒭洗业的故事”。苾蒭，也作比丘，是印度称修行人的音译。业，梵语羯磨的译意。属于过去的为宿业，现在的为现业。这里是指宿业言。

CHAPTER 13. In the den of tigers, the Gold Star brings deliverance; At Double-Fork Ridge, Boqin detains the monk.

The rich Tang ruler issued a decree,

Deputing Xuanzang to seek the source of Chan.

He bent his mind to find the Dragon Den,

With firm resolve to climb the Vulture Peak.1

Through how many states did he roam beyond his own?

Through clouds and hills he passed ten thousand times.

He now leaves the throne to go to the West;

He’ll keep law and faith to reach the Great Void.

We shall now tell you about Tripitaka, who, on the third day before the fifteenth of the ninth month in the thirteenth year of the period Zhenguan, was sent off by the Tang emperor and many officials from outside the gate of Chang’an. For a couple of days his horse trotted without ceasing, and soon they reached the Temple of the Law Gate. The abbot of that temple led some five hundred monks on both sides to receive him and took him inside. As they met, tea was served, after which a vegetarian meal was presented. Soon after the meal, dusk fell, and thus

Shadows moved to the Star River’s nearing pulse;

The moon was bright without a speck of dust.

The wild geese called from the distant sky,

And washing flails beat from nearby homes.

As birds returned to perch on withered trees,

The Chan monks conversed in their Sanskrit tones.

On rush mats placed upon a single bunk,

They sat until halfway through the night.

Beneath the lamps the various monks discussed Buddhist doctrines and the purpose of seeking scriptures in the Western Heaven. Some pointed out that the waters were wide and the mountains very high; others mentioned that the roads were crowded with tigers and leopards; still others maintained that the precipitous peaks were difficult to scale; and another group insisted that the vicious monsters were hard to subdue. Tripitaka, however, kept his mouth shut tightly, but he pointed with his finger to his own heart and nodded his head several times. Not perceiving what he meant, the various monks folded their hands and asked, “Why did the Master of the Law point to his heart and nod his head?”

“When the mind is active,” Tripitaka replied, “all kinds of māra come into existence; when the mind is extinguished, all kinds of māra will be extinguished. This disciple has already made an important vow before Buddha in the Temple of Transformation, and he has no alternative but to fulfill it with his whole heart. If I go, I shall not turn aside until I have reached the Western Heaven, seen Buddha, and acquired the scriptures so that the Wheel of the Law will be turned to us2 and the kingdom of our lord will be secured forever.” When the various monks heard this statement, everyone congratulated and commended him, saying, “A loyal and valiant master!” They praised him unceasingly as they escorted him to bed.

Soon

The bamboos struck down the setting moon3

And the cocks crowed to gather the clouds of dawn.

The various monks arose and prepared some tea and the morning meal. Xuanzang put on his cassock and went to worship Buddha in the main hall. “Your disciple, Chen Xuanzang,” he said, “is on his way to seek scriptures in the Western Heaven. But my fleshly eyes are dim and unperceptive and do not recognize the true form of the living Buddha. Now I wish to make a vow: that throughout this journey I shall burn incense whenever I come upon a temple, I shall worship Buddha whenever I meet a Buddha, and I shall sweep a pagoda whenever I reach a pagoda. May our Buddha be merciful and soon reveal to me his Diamond Body sixteen feet tall. May he grant me the true scriptures so that they may be preserved in the Land of the East.”

He finished his prayer and went back to the hall for the vegetarian meal, after which his two attendants made ready the saddle and urged him to begin his journey. Going out of the temple’s gate, Tripitaka took leave of the monks, who grieved to see him go. They accompanied him for ten miles before turning back, tears in their eyes, as Tripitaka proceeded directly toward the West. It was the time of late autumn. You see

Trees growing bare in hamlets as rush petals break;

From every maple column the red leaves fall.

Trekkers through paths of mist and rain are few.

The fair chrysanthemums,

The sharp mountain rocks,

Cold streams and cracked lilies all make one sad.

Snow falls from a frosty sky on rushes and reeds.

One duck at dusk descends in the distant void.

Clouds o’er the wilds move through the gathering gloom.

The swallows depart;

The wild geese appear—

Their cries, though loud, are halting and forlorn.4

After traveling for several days, master and disciples arrived at the city of Gongzhou. They were met at once by the various municipal officials of that city, where they spent the night. The next morning they set off again, taking food and drink along the way, resting by night and journeying by day. In two or three days, they arrived at the District of Hezhou, which formed the border of the Great Tang Empire. When the garrison commander of the border as well as the local monks and priests heard that the Master of the Law, a bond brother of the emperor, was on his way to the Western Heaven to see Buddha by royal commission, they received the travelers with due reverence. Some chief priests then invited them to spend the night at Fuyuan Temple, where every resident cleric came to pay respect to the pilgrims. Dinner was served, after which the two attendants were told to feed the horses well, for the Master wanted to leave before dawn. At the first crowing of the cock, he called for his attendants and aroused the monks of that temple. They hastened to prepare tea and breakfast, after which the pilgrims departed from the border.

Because he was somewhat impatient to get going, the Master arose a trifle too early. The fact is that this was late autumn, when cocks crow rather early—at about the time of the fourth watch. Facing the clear frost and the bright moon, the three of them (the horse made up the fourth member of the team) journeyed for some twenty or thirty miles, when they came upon a mountain range. It soon became exceedingly difficult for them to find their way. As they had to poke around in the grass to look for a path, they began to worry that they might be heading in the wrong direction. In that very anxious moment, they suddenly tripped; all three of them as well as the horse tumbled into a deep pit. Tripitaka was terrified; his companions all shook with fear. They were still trembling when they heard voices shouting, “Seize them! Seize them!” A violent wind swept by, and a mob of fifty or sixty ogres appeared, who seized Tripitaka with his companions and hauled them out of the pit. Quivering and shivering, the Master of the Law stole a glance around and saw a ferocious Monster King seated up on high. Truly he had

A figure most awesomely bold,

A face most distinctly fierce.

Light flashed from his lightninglike eyes;

All quaked at his thunderous voice.

His sawlike teeth jutted outward,

Like fangs they emerged from his jaws.

Brocade wrapped his body around,

And coiling stripes covered his spine.

They saw flesh through sparse, steely whiskers.

Keen-edged were his claws like sharp swords.

Even Huang Gong of East Sea would fear5

This white-browed King of Mount South.

Tripitaka was so frightened that his spirit left him, while the bones of his followers grew weak and their tendons turned numb.

The Monster King shouted for them to be bound, and the various ogres tied up all three of them with ropes. They were being prepared to be eaten when a clamor was heard outside the camp. Someone came in to report: “The Bear Mountain Lord and the Steer Hermit have arrived.” Hearing this, Tripitaka looked up. The first one to come in was a swarthy fellow. “How did he look?” you ask.

He seemed valiant and courageous,

With body both tough and brawny.

His great strength could ford the waters.

He prowled the woods, flaunting his power.

Ever a good omen in dreams,6

He showed now his forceful features.

He could break or climb the green trees,

And predicted when winter was near.

Truly he was most clever.

Hence Mountain Lord was his name.

Following behind him was another husky fellow. “How did he look?” you ask.

A cap of twin horns rugged,

And a humpback most majestic.

His green robe showed his calm nature,

He walked with a slumberous gait.

He came from a father named Bull;

His mother’s proper name was Cow.

A great boon to people who plowed,

He was thus called the Steer Hermit.

The two of them swaggered in, and the Monster King hurried out to receive them. The Bear Mountain Lord said, “You are in top form, General Yin. Congratulations! Congratulations!” “General Yin looks better than ever,” said the Steer Hermit. “It’s marvelous! It’s marvelous!” “And you two gentlemen, how have you been these days?” asked the Monster King. “Just maintaining my idleness,” said the Mountain Lord. “Just keeping up with the times,” said the Hermit. After these exchanges, they sat down to chat some more.

Meanwhile, one of Tripitaka’s attendants was bound so tightly that he began to moan pitifully. “How did these three get here?” asked the swarthy fellow. “They practically presented themselves at the door!” said the Monster King. “Can they be used for the guests’ dinner?” asked the Hermit, laughing. “By all means!” said the Monster King. “Let’s not finish them all up,” said the Mountain Lord. “We’ll dine on two of them and leave one over.” The Monster King agreed. He called his subordinates at once to have the attendants eviscerated and their carcasses carved up; their heads, hearts, and livers were to be presented to the guests, the limbs to the host, and the remaining portions of flesh and bone to the rest of the ogres. The moment the order was given, the ogres pounced on the attendants like tigers preying on sheep: munching and crunching, they devoured them in no time at all. The priest nearly died of fear, for this, you see, was his first bitter ordeal since his departure from Chang’an.

As he was nursing his horror, light began to grow in the east. The two monsters did not retire until dawn. Saying, “We’re beholden to your generous hospitality today. Permit us to repay in kind in another time,” they left together. Soon the sun rose high in the sky, but Tripitaka was still in a stupor, unable to discern which way was north, south, east, or west. In that half-dead condition, he suddenly saw an old man approaching, holding a staff in his hands. Walking up to Tripitaka, the man waved his hands and all the ropes snapped. He then blew on Tripitaka, and the monk began to revive. Falling on the ground, he said, “I thank the aged father for saving the life of this poor monk!” “Get up,” the old man said, returning his salute, “have you lost anything?”

“The followers of your poor monk,” said Tripitaka, “have been eaten by the monsters. I have no idea where my horse is or my luggage.” “Isn’t that your horse over there with the two bundles?” asked the old man, pointing with his staff. Tripitaka turned around and discovered that his belongings had indeed remained untouched. Somewhat relieved, he asked the old man, “Aged father, what is this place? How do you happen to be here?” “It is called the Double-Fork Ridge, a place infested with tigers and wolves. How did you manage to get here?” “At the first crow of the cock,” said Tripitaka, “your poor monk left the District of Hezhou. Little did I realize that we had risen too early, and we lost our way tramping through fog and dew. We came upon this Monster King so exceedingly ferocious that he captured me and my two followers. There was also a swarthy fellow called the Bear Mountain Lord and a husky fellow called the Steer Hermit. They arrived and addressed the Monster King as General Yin. All three of them devoured my two followers and retired only at dawn. I have no idea where I accrued the fortune and merit that caused the aged father to rescue me here.”

“That Steer Hermit,” said the old man, “is a wild bull spirit; the Mountain Lord, a bear spirit; and General Yin, a tiger spirit. The various ogres are all demons of mountains and trees, spirits of strange beasts and wolves. Because of the primal purity of your nature, they cannot devour you. Follow me now, and I shall lead you on your way.” Tripitaka could not be more thankful. Fastening the bundles on the saddle and leading his horse, he followed the old man out of the pit and walked toward the main road. He tied the horse to the bushes beside the path and turned to thank the aged father. At that moment a gentle breeze swept by, and the old man rose into the air and left, riding on a white crane with a crimson head. As the wind subsided, a slip of paper fluttered down, with four lines of verse written on it:

I am the Planet Venus from the West,

Who came to save you by special request,

Some pupils divine will come to your aid.

Blame not the scriptures for hardships ahead.

When Tripitaka read this, he bowed toward the sky saying, “I thank the Gold Star for seeing me through this ordeal.” After that, he led his horse off again on his lonely and melancholy journey.

On this ridge truly you have

Cold and soughing, the wind of the rainforest;

Purling and gurgling, the water of the brooklets;

Fragrant and musky, wildflowers in bloom;

In clutters and clumps, rough rocks piled high;

Chattering and clattering, the apes and the deer;

In rank and file, the musk and the fallow deer.

Chirping and cooing, birds frequently call.

Silent and still, not one man is in sight.

That master

Shivers and quivers to his anxious mind.

This dear horse,

Scared and nervous, can barely raise his legs.

Ready to abandon his body and sacrifice his life, Tripitaka started up that rugged mountain. He journeyed for half a day, but not a single human being or dwelling was in sight. He was gnawed by hunger and disheartened by the rough road. In that desperate moment, he saw two fierce tigers growling in front of him and several huge snakes circling behind him; vicious creatures appeared on his left and strange beasts on his right. As he was all by himself, Tripitaka had little alternative but to submit himself to the will of Heaven. As if to complete his helplessness, his horse’s back was sagging and its legs were buckling; it went to its knees and soon lay prostrate on the ground. He could budge it neither by beating nor by tugging. With hardly an inch of space to stand on, our Master of the Law was in the depths of despair, thinking that certain death would be his fate. We can tell you, however, that though he was in danger, help was on its way. For just as he thought he was about to expire, the vicious creatures began to scatter and the monstrous beasts fled; the fierce tigers vanished and the huge snakes disappeared. When Tripitaka looked further ahead, he saw a man coming over the mountain slope with a steel trident in his hands and bow and arrows at his waist. He was indeed a valiant figure! Look at him:

He had on his head a cap

Of leopard skin, spotted and artemisia white;

He wore on his body a robe

Of lamb’s wool with dark silk brocade.

Around his waist was tied a lion king belt,7

And on his feet he wore tall boots of suede.

His eyes would bulge like those of someone hung.

His beard curled wildly like a fierce god’s!

A bow and poisoned arrows hung on him.

He held a huge trident of finest steel.

His voice like thunder appalled mountain cats,

And wild pheasants quaked at his truculence.

When Tripitaka saw him draw near, he knelt at the side of the path and called out, his hands clasped in front of him, “Great king, save me! Great king, save me!” The fellow came up to Tripitaka and put down his trident. Raising up the monk with his hands, he said, “Don’t be afraid, Elder, for I’m not a wicked man. I’m a hunter living in this mountain; my surname is Liu and my given name is Boqin. I also go by the nickname of Senior Guardian of the Mountain. I came here to find some animals to eat, not expecting to run into you. I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“Your poor monk,” said Tripitaka, “is a cleric who has been sent by his Majesty, the Tang emperor, to seek scriptures from Buddha in the Western Heaven. When I arrived here a few moments ago, I was surrounded by tigers, wolves, and snakes, so that I could not proceed. But when the creatures saw you coming they all scattered, and you have thus saved my life. Many thanks! Many thanks!” “Since I live here and my livelihood depends on killing a few tigers and wolves,” said Boqin, “or catching a few snakes and reptiles, I usually frighten the wild beasts away. If you have come from the Tang empire, you are actually a native here, for this is still Tang territory and I am a Tang subject. You and I both live off the land belonging to the emperor so that we are in truth citizens of the same nation. Don’t be afraid. Follow me. You may rest your horse at my place, and I shall see you off in the morning.” Tripitaka was filled with delight when he heard these words, and he led his horse to follow the hunter.

They passed the slope and again heard the howling of the wind. “Sit here, Elder,” said Boqin, “and don’t move. The sound of that wind tells me that a mountain cat is approaching. I’ll take him home so that I can make a meal of him for you.” When Tripitaka heard this, his heart hammered and his gall quivered and he became rooted to the ground. Grasping his trident, that Guardian strode forward and came face to face with a great striped tiger. Seeing Boqin, he turned and fled. Like a crack of thunder, the Guardian bellowed, “Cursed beast! Where will you flee?” When the tiger saw him pressing near, he turned with flailing claws to spring at him, only to be met by the Guardian with uplifted trident. Tripitaka was so terrified that he lay paralyzed on the grass. Since leaving his mother’s belly, when had he ever witnessed such violent and dangerous goings-on? The Guardian went after that tiger to the foot of the slope, and it was a magnificent battle between man and beast. You see

Raging resentment,

And churning whirlwind.

In raging resentment

The potent Guardian’s hair pushed up his cap;

Like churning whirlwind

The striped prince belched dust, displaying his might.

This one bared its teeth and wielded its paws;

That one stepped sideways, yet turning to fight.

The trident reached skyward, reflecting the sun.

The striped tail stirred up both fog and cloud.

This one stabbed madly at the breast of his foe;

That one, facing him would swallow him whole.

Stay away and you may live out your years.

Join the fray and you’ll meet Yama, the king!

You hear the roar of the striped prince

And the harsh cries of the Guardian.

The roar of the striped prince

Shook mountains and streams to frighten birds and beasts;

The harsh cries of the Guardian

Unlocked the Heavens to make the stars appear.

The gold eyeballs of this one protruded,

And wrath burst from the bold heart of that one.

Lovable was Liu the Mountain Guardian;

Praiseworthy was this king of the wild beasts.

So tiger and man fought, each craving life—

A little slower, and one forfeits his soul!

The two of them fought for about an hour, and as the paws of the tiger began to slow and his torso to slacken, he was downed by the Guardian’s trident stabbing him through the chest. A pitiful sight it was! The points of the trident pierced the heart, and at once the ground was covered with blood.

The Guardian then dragged the beast by the ear up the road. What a man! He hardly panted, nor did his face change color. He said to Tripitaka, “We’re lucky! We’re lucky! This mountain cat should be sufficient for a day’s food for the elder.” Applauding him unceasingly, Tripitaka said, “The Guardian is truly a mountain god!” “What ability do I have,” said Boqin, “that I merit such acclaim? This is really the good fortune of the father. Let’s go. I’d like to skin him quickly so that I can cook some of his meat to entertain you.” He held the trident in one hand and dragged the tiger with the other, leading the way while Tripitaka followed him with his horse. They walked together past the slope and all at once came upon a mountain village, in front of which were

Old trees soaring skyward,

Roads filled with wild creepers.

In countless canyons the wind was cool;

On many ridges came strange sounds and sights.

One path’s wild blooms, their scent clung to one’s body;

A few poles of bamboo, what enduring green!

The portal of grass,

The wattle-fenced yard—

A picture to paint or sketch.

The stone-slab bridge,

The white-earth walls—

How charming indeed, and rare!

Now in the wistful face of autumn,

The air was cool and brisk,

By the wayside yellow leaves fell;

Over the peaks the white clouds drifted.

In thinly-grown woods the wild fowls twittered,

And young dogs yelped outside the village gate.

When Boqin reached the door of his house, he threw down the dead tiger and called, “Little ones, where are you?” Out came three or four houseboys, all looking rather unattractive and mean, who hauled the tiger inside. Boqin told them to skin it quickly and prepare it for the guest. He then turned around to welcome Tripitaka into his dwelling, and as they greeted each other, Tripitaka thanked him again for the great favor of saving his life. “We are fellow countrymen,” said Boqin, “and there’s little need for you to thank me.” After they had sat down and drunk tea, an old woman with someone who appeared to be her daughter-in-law came out to greet Tripitaka. “This is my mother, and this my wife,” said Boqin. “Pray ask your parent to take the honored seat,” said Tripitaka, “and let your poor monk pay his respects.” “Father is a guest coming from great distance,” said the old woman. “Please relax and don’t stand on ceremony.” “Mother,” said Boqin, “he has been sent by the Tang emperor to seek scriptures from Buddha in the Western Heaven. He met your son just now at the ridge. Since we are fellow countrymen, I invited him to the house to rest his horse. Tomorrow I shall see him on his way.”

When she heard these words, the old woman was very pleased. “Good! Good! Good!” she said. “The timing couldn’t be better, even if we had planned to invite him. For tomorrow happens to be the anniversary of your late father’s death. Let us invite the elder to perform some good deeds and recite an appropriate passage of scripture. We shall see him off day after tomorrow.” Although he was a tiger slayer, a so-called “Guardian of the Mountain,” our Liu Boqin had a good deal of filial feeling for his mother. When he heard what she said, he immediately wanted to prepare the incense and the paper money, so that Tripitaka might be asked to stay.

As they talked, the sky began to darken. The servants brought chairs and a table and set out several dishes of well-cooked tiger meat, steaming hot. Boqin invited Tripitaka to begin, telling him that rice would follow. “O dear!” said Tripitaka, his hands folded. “To tell you the truth, I have been a monk since leaving my mother’s womb, and I have never eaten any meat.” Hearing this, Boqin reflected awhile. He then said, “Elder, for generations this humble family has never kept a vegetarian diet. We could, I suppose, find some bamboo shoots and wood ears and prepare some dried vegetables and bean cakes, but they would all be cooked with the fat of deer or tigers. Even our pots and pans are grease-soaked! What am I to do? I must ask the elder’s pardon.” “Don’t fret,” said Tripitaka. “Enjoy the food yourself. Even if I were not to eat for three or four days, I could bear the hunger. But I dare not break the dietary commandment.” “Suppose you starve to death,” said Boqin, “what then?” “I am indebted to the Heavenly kindness of the Guardian,” said Tripitaka, “for saving me from the packs of tigers and wolves. Starving to death is better than being food for a tiger.”

When Boqin’s mother heard this, she cried, “Son, stop such idle talk with the elder. Let me prepare a vegetarian dish to serve him.” “Where would you get such a dish?” said Boqin. “Never mind. I’ll fix it,” said his mother. She asked her daughter-in-law to take down a small cooking pan and heat it until much of the grease had burned off. They washed and scrubbed the pan again and again and then put it back on the stove and boiled some water in it. Taking some elm leaves from the mountain, they made soup with it, after which they cooked some rice with yellow millet mixed with Indian corn. They also prepared two bowls of dried vegetables and brought it all out to the table. “Elder,” the aged mother said to Tripitaka, “please have some. This is the cleanest and purest food that my daughter-in-law and I have ever prepared.” Tripitaka left his seat to thank her before sitting down again. Boqin removed himself to another place; dishes and bowls full of unsauced and unsalted tiger meat, musk deer meat, serpent meat, fox flesh, rabbit, and strips of cured venison were set before him. To keep Tripitaka company, he sat down and was about to pick up his chopsticks when he saw Tripitaka fold his hands and begin to recite something. Startled, Boqin dared not touch his chopsticks; he jumped up instead and stood to one side. Having uttered no more than a few phrases, Tripitaka said to him, “Please eat.” “You are a priest who likes to recite short scriptures,” said Boqin. “That was not scripture,” said Tripitaka, “only a prayer to be said before meals.” “You people who leave your families,” said Boqin, “are particular about everything! Even for a meal you have to mumble something!”

They ate their dinner and the dishes and bowls were taken away. Evening was setting in when Boqin led Tripitaka out of the main hall to go for a walk at the back of the dwelling. They passed through a corridor and arrived at a straw shed. Pushing open the door, they walked inside, where they found several heavy bows and some quivers of arrows hanging on the walls. Two pieces of tiger skin, stinking and bloodstained, were draped over the cross beams, and a number of spears, knives, tridents, and rods were stuck into the ground at one corner. There were two seats in the middle of the shed, and Boqin invited Tripitaka to sit for a moment. Seeing that the place was so gruesome and putrid, Tripitaka dared not linger. They soon left the shed and walked further back to a huge garden, where there seemed to be no end of thick clumps of chrysanthemum piling their gold and stands of maple hoisting their crimson. With a loud rustle, more than a dozen fat deer and a large herd of musk deer jumped out. Calm and mild-mannered, they were not at all frightened at the sight of human beings. Tripitaka said, “You must have tamed these animals.” “Like the people in your city of Chang’an,” said Boqin, “where the affluent store up wealth and treasures and the landlords gather rice and grain, so we hunters must keep some of these wild beasts to prepare against dark days. That’s all!” As they walked and conversed, it grew dark, and they returned to the house to rest.

As soon as the members of the family, young and old, arose next morning, they went to prepare vegetarian food to serve to the priest, who was then asked to begin his recitations. Having first washed his hands, the priest went to the ancestral hall with the Guardian to burn incense. Only after he had bowed to the house shrine did Tripitaka beat on his wooden fish and recite first the true sentences for the purification of the mouth, and then the divine formula for the purification of mind and body. He went on to the Sūtra for the Salvation of the Dead, after which Boqin requested him to compose in writing a specific prayer for the deliverance of the deceased. He then took up the Diamond Sūtra and the Guanyin Sūtra, each of which was given a loud and clear recitation. After lunch, he recited several sections from the Lotus Sūtra and the Amitāyus Sūtra, before finishing with the Peacock Sūtra and a brief recounting of the story of Buddha healing a bhikṣu.8 Soon it was evening again. All kinds of incense were burned together with the various paper horses, images of the deities, and the prayer for the deliverance of the deceased. The Buddhist service was thus completed, and each person retired.

We shall now tell you about the soul of Boqin’s father, verily a ghost redeemed from perdition, who came to his own house and appeared to all the members of his family in a dream. “It was difficult,” he said, “for me to escape my bitter ordeals in the Region of Darkness, and for a long time I could not attain salvation. Fortunately, the holy monk’s recitations have now expiated my sins. King Yama has ordered someone to send me to the rich land of China, where I may assume my next incarnation in a noble family. All of you, therefore, must take care to thank the elder, and see that you are not negligent in any way. Now I leave you.” So it is that

There is, in all things, a solemn purpose:

To save the dead from perdition and pain.

When the whole family awoke from the dream, the sun was already rising in the east. The wife of Boqin said, “Guardian, I dreamed last night that father came to the house. He said that it was difficult for him to escape his bitter ordeals in the Region of Darkness, and that for a long time he could not attain salvation. Fortunately, the holy monk’s recitations have now expiated his sins, and King Yama has ordered someone to send him to the rich land of China where he may assume his next incarnation in a noble family. He told us to take care to thank the elder and not be negligent in any way. After he had finished speaking, he drifted away, despite my plea for him to stay. I woke up and it was all a dream!”

“I had a dream also,” said Boqin, “one exactly like yours! Let’s get up and talk to mother about this.” The two of them were about to do so when they heard the old mother calling, “Boqin, come here. I want to talk to you.” They went in and found the mother sitting up in bed. “Son,” she said, “I had a happy dream last night. I dreamed that your father came to the house saying that, thanks to the redemptive work of the elder, his sins had been expiated. He is on his way to the rich land of China, where he will assume his next incarnation in a noble family.” Husband and wife laughed uproariously.

Boqin said, “Your daughter-in-law and I both had this dream, and we were just coming to tell you. Little did we expect that mother’s call also had to do with this dream.” They therefore called on every member of the family to express their gratitude and prepare the monk’s horse for travel. They came bowing before the priest and said, “We thank the elder for providing life and deliverance for our deceased father, for which we can never repay you sufficiently.” “What has this poor monk accomplished,” said Tripitaka, “that merits such gratitude?” Boqin gave a thorough account of the dream that the three of them had, and Tripitaka was also very pleased. A vegetarian meal was again served, and a tael of silver was presented as a token of their gratitude.

Tripitaka refused to accept so much as a penny, though the whole family begged him earnestly. He only said, “If, in compassion, you can escort me on the first part of my way, I shall ever be grateful for such kindness.” Boqin and his mother and wife had little alternative but hastily to prepare some biscuits from unrefined flour, which Tripitaka was glad to accept. Boqin was told to escort him as far as possible. Obeying his mother’s bidding, the Guardian also ordered several houseboys to join them, each bringing hunting equipment and weapons. They walked to the main road, and there seemed to be no end to the scenic splendor of the mountains and peaks.

When they had traveled for half a day, they came upon a huge mountain so tall and rugged that it truly seemed to touch the blue sky. In a little while the whole company reached the foot of the mountain, and the Guardian began to ascend it as if he were walking on level ground. Halfway up, Boqin turned around and stood still at the side of the road, saying, “Elder, please go on yourself. I must now take leave of you and turn back.” When Tripitaka heard these words, he rolled down from his saddle and said, “I beg you to escort me a little further.” “You do not realize, Elder,” said Boqin, “that this mountain is called the Mountain of Two Frontiers; the eastern half belongs to our Great Tang domain, but the western half is the territory of the Tartars. The tigers and wolves over there are not my subjects, nor should I cross the border. You must proceed by yourself.” Tripitaka became fearful; he stretched out his hands and clutched at the sleeves of the hunter, tears pouring from his eyes.

It was at this tender moment of farewell that there came from beneath the mountain a thunderous voice crying, “My master has come! My master has come!” Tripitaka was dumbfounded, and Boqin trembled. We do not know who was crying; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.