第二十回
第二十回 黄风岭唐僧有难 半山中八戒争先
偈曰：
法本从心生，还是从心灭。生灭尽由谁，请君自辨别。既然皆己心，何用别人说？只须下苦功，扭出铁中血。绒绳着鼻穿，挽定虚空结。拴在无为树，不使他颠劣。莫认贼为子，心法都忘绝。休教他瞒我，一拳先打彻。现心亦无心，现法法也辍。人牛不见时[1]，碧天光皎洁。秋月一般圆，彼此难分别。
这一篇偈子，乃是玄奘法师悟彻了《多心经》，打开了门户[2]。那长老常念常存，一点灵光自透。
且说他三众，在路餐风宿水，带月披星，早又至夏景炎天。但见那：
花尽蝶无情叙，树高蝉有声喧。
野蚕成茧火榴妍，沼内新荷出现。
那日正行时，忽然天晚，又见山路旁边有一村舍。三藏道：“悟空，你看那日落西山藏火镜，月升东海现冰轮。幸而道旁有一人家，我们且借宿一宵，明日再走。”八戒道：“说得是。我老猪也有些饿了，且到人家化些斋吃，有力气，好挑行李。”行者道：“这个恋家鬼！你离了家几日，就生报怨！”八戒道：“哥呵，似不得你这喝风阿烟的人。我从跟了师父这几日，长忍半肚饥，你可晓得？”三藏闻之道：“悟能，你若是在家心重呵，不是个出家的了，你还回去罢。”那呆子慌得跪下道：“师父，你莫听师兄之言。他有些赃埋人[3]。我不曾报怨甚的，他就说我报怨。我是个直肠的痴汉，我说道肚里饥了，好寻个人家化斋，他就骂我是恋家鬼。师父呵，我受了菩萨的戒行，又承师父怜悯，情愿要伏侍师父往西天去，誓无退悔。这叫做‘恨苦修行’。怎的说不是出家的话！”三藏道：“既是如此，你且起来。”
那呆子纵身跳起，口里絮絮叨叨的，挑着担子，只得死心塌地，跟着前来。早到了路旁人家门首，三藏下马，行者接了缰绳，八戒歇了行李，都伫立绿荫之下。三藏拄着九环锡杖，按按藤缠篾织斗篷，先奔门前。只见一老者，斜倚竹床之上，口里嘤嘤的念佛。三藏不敢高言，慢慢的叫一声：“施主，问讯了。”那老者一骨鲁跳将起来，忙敛衣襟，出门还礼道：“长老，失迎。你自那方来的？到我寒门何故？”三藏道：“贫僧是东土大唐和尚，奉圣旨，上雷音寺拜佛求经。适至宝方天晚，意投檀府告借一宵，万祈方便方便。”那老儿摆手摇头道：“去不得，西天难取经。要取经，往东天去罢。”三藏口中不语，意下沉吟：“菩萨指道西去，怎么此老说往东行？东边那得有经？……”腼腆难言，半晌不答。
却说行者素性凶顽，忍不住，上前高叫道：“那老儿，你这们大年纪，全不晓事。我出家人远来借宿，就把这厌钝[4]的话虎唬我。十分你家窄狭，没处睡时，我们在树底下，好道也坐一夜，不打搅你。”那老者扯住三藏道：“师父，你倒不言语，你那个徒弟，那般拐子脸、别颏腮[5]、雷公嘴、红眼睛的一个痨病魔鬼，怎么反冲撞我这年老之人！”行者笑道：“你这个老儿，忒也没眼色！似那俊刮[6]些儿的，叫做中看不中吃。想我老孙虽小，颇结实，皮裹一团筋哩。”
那老者道：“你想必有些手段。”行者道：“不敢夸言，也将就看得过。”老者道：“你家居何处？因甚事削发为僧？”行者道：“老孙祖贯东胜神洲海东傲来国花果山水帘洞居住。自小儿学做妖怪，称名悟空。凭本事，挣了一个齐天大圣。只因不受天禄，大反天宫，惹了一场灾愆。如今脱难消灾，转拜沙门，前求正果，保我这唐朝驾下的师父，上西天拜佛走遭，怕甚么山高路险，水阔波狂！我老孙也捉得怪，降得魔，伏虎擒龙，踢天弄井[7]，都晓得些儿。倘若府上有甚么丢砖打瓦，锅叫门开，老孙便能安镇。”
那老儿听得这篇言语，哈哈笑道：“原来是个撞头[8]化缘的熟嘴儿和尚。”行者道：“你儿子便是熟嘴！我这些时，只因跟我师父走路辛苦，还懒说话哩。”那老儿道：“若是你不辛苦，不懒说话，好道活活的聒杀我！你既有这样手段，西方也还去得，去得。你一行几众？请至茅舍里安宿。”三藏道：“多蒙老施主不叱之恩。我一行三众。”老者道：“那一众在那里？”行者指着道：“这老儿眼花，那绿荫下站的不是？”老儿果然眼花，忽抬头细看，一见八戒这般嘴脸，就唬得一步一跌，往屋里乱跑，只叫：“关门！关门！妖怪来了！”行者赶上扯住道：“老儿莫怕，他不是妖怪，是我师弟。”老者战兢兢的道：“好！好！好！一个丑似一个的和尚！”八戒上前道：“老官儿，你若以相貌取人，干净[9]差了。我们丑自丑，却都有用。”
那老者正在门前与三个和尚相讲，只见那庄南边有两个少年人，带着一个老妈妈，三四个小男女，敛衣赤脚，插秧而回。他看见一匹白马，一担行李，都在他家门首喧哗，不知是甚来历，都一拥上前问道：“做甚么的？”八戒调过头来，把耳朵摆了几摆，长嘴伸了一伸，吓得那些人东倒西歪，乱[10]乱跌。慌得那三藏满口招呼道：“莫怕！莫怕！我们不是歹人，我们是取经的和尚。”那老儿才出了门，搀着妈妈道：“婆婆起来，少要惊恐。这师父，是唐朝来的，只是他徒弟脸嘴丑些，却也山恶人善。带男女们家去。”那妈妈才扯着老儿，二少年领着儿女进去。
三藏却坐在他门楼里竹床之上，埋怨道：“徒弟呀，你两个相貌既丑，言语又粗，把这一家儿吓得七损八伤，都替我身造罪哩！”八戒道：“不瞒师父说，老猪自从跟了你，这些时俊了许多哩。若像往常在高老庄走时，把嘴朝前一掬，把耳两头一摆，常吓杀二三十人哩。”行者笑道：“呆子不要乱说，把那丑也收拾起些。”三藏道：“你看悟空说的话。相貌是生成的，你教他怎么收拾？”行者道：“把那个耙子嘴，揣在怀里，莫拿出来；把那蒲扇耳，贴在后面，不要摇动，这就是收拾了。”那八戒真个把嘴揣了，把耳贴了，拱着头，立于左右。行者将行李拿入门里，将白马拴在桩上。
只见那老儿才引个少年，拿一个板盘儿，托三杯清茶来献。茶罢，又分付办斋。那少年又拿一张有窟窿无漆水的旧桌，端两条破头折脚的凳子，放在天井中，请三众凉处坐下。三藏方问道：“老施主，高姓？”老者道：“在下姓王。”——“有几位令嗣[11]？”——道：“有两个小儿，三个小孙。”三藏道：“恭喜，恭喜。”又问：“年寿几何？”——道：“痴长六十一岁。”行者道：“好！好！好！花甲重逢矣。”三藏复问道：“老施主，始初说西天经难取者，何也？”老者道：“经非难取，只是道中艰涩难行。我们这向西去，只有三十里远近，有一座山，叫做八百里黄风岭。那山中多有妖怪。故言难取者，此也。若论此位小长老，说有许多手段，却也去得。”行者道：“不妨！不妨！有了老孙与我这师弟，任他是甚么妖怪，不敢惹我。”
正说处，又见儿子拿将饭来，摆在桌上，道声：“请斋。”三藏就合掌讽《启斋经》。八戒早已吞了一碗。长老的几句经还未了，那呆子又吃够三碗。行者道：“这个馕糠！好道汤[12]着饿鬼了！”那老王倒也知趣，见他吃得快，道：“这个长老，想着实饿了，快添饭来。”那呆子真个食肠大：看他不抬头，一连就吃有十数碗。三藏、行者俱各吃不上两碗。呆子不住，便还吃哩。老王道：“仓卒无肴，不敢苦劝，请再进一筯。”三藏、行者俱道：“够了。”八戒道：“老儿滴答[13]甚么！谁和你发课[14]，说甚么五爻六爻[15]，有饭只管添将来就是。”呆子一顿，把他一家子饭都吃得罄尽，还只说才得半饱。却才收了家火，在那门楼下，安排了竹床板铺睡下。
次日天晓，行者去背马[16]，八戒去整担，老王又教妈妈整治些点心汤水管待，三众方致谢告行。老者道：“此去倘路间有甚不虞，是必还来茅舍。”行者道：“老儿，莫说哈话[17]。我们出家人，不走回头路。”遂此策马挑担西行。
噫！这一去，果无好路朝西域，定有邪魔降大灾。三众前来，不上半日，果逢一座高山。说起来，十分险峻。三藏马到临崖，斜挑宝蹬观看，果然那：
高的是山，峻的是岭；陡的是崖，深的是壑；响的是泉，鲜的是花。那山高不高，顶上接青霄；这涧深不深，底中见地府。山前面，有骨都都[18]白云，屹嶝嶝怪石，说不尽千丈万丈挟魂崖。崖后有弯弯曲曲藏龙洞，洞中有叮叮当当滴水岩。又见些丫丫叉叉带角鹿，泥泥蚩蚩看人獐；盘盘曲曲红鳞蟒，耍耍顽顽白面猿。至晚巴山寻穴虎，带晓翻波出水龙，登的洞门唿喇喇响。草里飞禽，扑轳轳起；林中走兽，掬行。猛然一阵狼虫过，吓得人心趷蹬蹬惊。正是那当倒洞当当倒洞，洞当当倒洞当山；青岱染成千丈玉，碧纱笼罩万堆烟。
那师父缓促银，孙大圣停云慢步，猪悟能磨担[19]徐行。正看那山，忽闻得一阵旋风大作。三藏在马上心惊，道：“悟空，风起了！”行者道：“风却怕他怎的！此乃天家四时之气，有何惧哉！”三藏道：“此风甚恶，比那天风不同。”行者道：“怎见得不比天风？”三藏道：“你看这风：
巍巍荡荡飒飘飘，渺渺茫茫出碧霄。
过岭只闻千树吼，入林但见万竿摇。
岸边摆柳连根动，园内吹花带叶飘。
收网渔舟皆紧缆，落篷客艇尽抛锚。
途半征夫迷失路，山中樵子担难挑。
仙果林间猴子散，奇花丛内鹿儿逃。
崖前桧柏颗颗倒，涧下松篁叶叶凋。
播土扬尘沙迸迸，翻江搅海浪涛涛。”
八戒上前，一把扯住行者道：“师兄，十分风大！我们且躲一躲儿干净。”行者笑道：“兄弟不济！风大时就躲，倘或亲面撞见妖精，怎的是好？”八戒道：“哥呵，你不曾闻得‘避色如避仇，避风如避箭’哩！我们躲一躲，也不亏人。”行者道：“且莫言语，等我把这风抓一把来闻一闻看。”八戒笑道：“师兄又扯空头谎了，风又好抓得过来闻？就是抓得来，便也渍了去了。”行者道：“兄弟，你不知道老孙有个‘抓风’之法。”好大圣，让过风头，把那风尾抓过来闻了一闻，有些腥气，道：“果然不是好风！这风的味道不是虎风，定是怪风。断乎有些蹊跷。”
说不了，只见那山坡下，剪尾跑蹄，跳出一只斑斓猛虎。慌得那三藏坐不稳雕鞍，翻跟头跌下白马，斜倚在路旁，真个是魂飞魄散。八戒丢了行李，掣铁钯，不让行者走上前，大喝一声道：“业畜！那里走！”赶将去，劈头就筑。那只虎直挺挺站将起来，把那前左爪抡起，抠住自家的胸膛，往下一抓，滑剌的一声，把个皮剥将下来，站立道旁。你看他怎生恶相！咦，那模样：
血津津的赤剥身躯，红媸媸的弯环腿足。
火焰焰的两鬓蓬松，硬搠搠的双眉的竖[20]。
白森森的四个钢牙，光耀耀的一双金眼。
气昂昂的努力大哮，雄纠纠的厉声高喊。
喊道：“慢来！慢来！吾当不是别人，乃是黄风大王部下的前路先锋。今奉大王严命，在山巡逻，要拿几个凡夫去做案酒[21]。你是那里来的和尚，敢擅动兵器伤我？”八戒骂道：“我把你这个业畜！你是认不得我！我等不是那过路的凡夫，乃东土大唐御弟三藏之弟子，奉旨上西方拜佛求经者。你早早的远避他方，让开大路，休惊了我师父，饶你性命；若似前猖獗，钯举处，却不留情！”
那妖精那容分说，急近步，丢一个架子，望八戒劈脸来抓。这八戒忙闪过，抡钯就筑。那怪手内无兵器，下头就走，八戒随后赶来。那怪到了山坡下乱石丛中，取出两口赤铜刀，急抡起，转身来迎。两个在这坡前，一往一来，一冲一撞的赌斗。那里行者搀起唐僧道：“师父，你莫害怕。且坐住，等老孙去助助八戒，打倒那怪好走。”三藏才坐将起来，战兢兢的，口里念着《多心经》不题。
那行者掣了铁棒，喝声教：“拿了！”此时八戒抖擞精神，那怪败下阵去。行者道：“莫饶他！务要赶上！”他两个抡钉钯，举铁棒，赶下山来。那怪慌了手脚，使个“金蝉脱壳计”，打个滚，现了原身，依然是一只猛虎。行者与八戒那里肯舍，赶着那虎，定要除根。那怪见他赶得至近，却又抠着胸膛，剥下皮来，苫盖在那卧虎石上，脱真身，化一阵狂风，径回路口。路口上那师父正念《多心经》，被他一把拿住，驾长风摄将去了。可怜那三藏呵！江流注定多磨蜇，寂灭门中功行难。
那怪把唐僧擒来洞口，按住狂风，对把门的道：“你去报大王说，前路虎先锋拿了一个和尚，在门外听令。”那洞主传令，教：“拿进来。”那虎先锋腰撒[22]着两口赤铜刀，双手捧着唐僧，上前跪下道：“大王，小将不才，蒙钧令差山上巡逻，忽遇一个和尚。他是东土大唐驾下御弟三藏法师，上西方拜佛求经，被我擒来奉上，聊具一馔。”
那洞主闻得此言，吃了一惊道：“我闻得前者有人传说：三藏法师乃大唐奉旨意取经的神僧；他手下有一个徒弟，名唤孙行者，神通广大，智力高强。你怎么能够捉得他来？”先锋道：“他有两个徒弟：先来的，使一柄九齿钉钯，他生得嘴长耳大；又一个，使一根金箍铁棒，他生得火眼金睛。正赶着小将争持，被小将使一个‘金蝉脱壳’之计，撤身得空，把这和尚拿来，奉献大王，聊表一餐之敬。”洞主道：“且莫吃他着。”先锋道：“大王，见食不食，呼为劣蹶[23]。”洞主道：“你不晓得：吃了他不打紧，只恐怕他那两个徒弟上门吵闹，未为稳便。且把他绑在后园定风桩上，待三五日，他两个不来搅扰，那时节，一则图他身子干净，二来不动口舌，却不任我们心意？或煮或蒸，或煎或炒，慢慢的自在受用不迟。”先锋大喜道：“大王深谋远虑，说得有理。”教：“小的们，拿了去。”
旁边拥上七八个绑缚手，将唐僧拿去，好便似鹰拿燕雀，索绑绳缠。这的是苦命江流思行者，遇难神僧想悟能，道声：“徒弟呵！不知你在那山擒怪，何处降精，我却被魔头拿来，遭此毒害，几时再得相见！好苦啊！你们若早些儿来，还救得我命；若十分迟了，断然不能保矣！”一边嗟叹，一边泪落如雨。
却说那行者、八戒，赶那虎下山坡，只见那虎跑倒了，塌伏在崖前。行者举棒，尽力一打，转震得自己手疼。八戒复筑了一钯，亦将钯齿迸起。原来是一张虎皮，苫着一块卧虎石。行者大惊道：“不好了！不好了！中了他计也！”八戒道：“中他甚计？”行者道：“这个叫做‘金蝉脱壳计’：他将虎皮苫在此，他却走了。我们且回去看看师父，莫遭毒手。”两个急急转来，早已不见了三藏。行者大叫如雷道：“怎的好！师父已被他擒去了！”八戒即便牵着马，眼中滴泪道：“天那！天那！却往那里找寻！”行者抬着跳道：“莫哭！莫哭！一哭就挫了锐气。横竖想只在此山，我们寻寻去来。”
他两个果奔入山中，穿岗越岭，行够多时，只见那石崖之下，耸出一座洞府。两人定步观瞻，果然凶险。但见那：
叠嶂尖峰，回峦古道。青松翠竹依依，绿柳碧梧冉冉。崖前有怪石双双，林内有幽禽对对。涧水远流冲石壁，山泉细滴漫沙堤。野云片片，瑶草芊芊。妖狐狡兔乱撺梭，角鹿香獐齐斗勇。劈崖斜挂万年藤，深壑半悬千岁柏。奕奕巍巍欺华岳，落花啼鸟赛天台。
行者道：“贤弟，你可将行李歇在藏风山凹之间，撒放马匹，不要出头。等老孙去他门首，与他赌斗。必须拿住妖精，方才救得师父。”八戒道：“不消分付，请快去。”行者整一整直裰，束一束虎裙，掣了棒，撞至那门前，只见那门上有六个大字，乃“黄风岭黄风洞”，却便丁字脚站定，执着棒，高叫道：“妖怪！趁早儿送我师父出来，省得掀翻了你窝巢，平了你住处！”
那小怪闻言，一个个害怕，战兢兢的，跑入里面报道：“大王！祸事了！”那黄风怪正坐间，问：“有何事？”小妖道：“洞门外来了一个雷公嘴毛脸的和尚，手持着一根许大[24]粗的铁棒，要他师父哩！”那洞主惊张，即唤虎先锋道：“我教你去巡山，只该拿些山牛、野彘、肥鹿、胡羊，怎么拿那唐僧来！却惹他那徒弟来此闹吵，怎生区处？”先锋道：“大王放心稳便，高枕勿忧，小将不才，愿带领五十个小妖校出去，把那甚么孙行者拿来凑吃。”洞主道：“我这里除了大小头目，还有五七百名小校，凭你选择领多少去。只要拿住那行者，我们才自自在在吃那和尚一块肉，情愿与你拜为兄弟；但恐拿他不得，反伤了你，那时休得埋怨我也。”
虎怪道：“放心！放心！等我去来。”果然点起五十名精壮小妖，擂鼓摇旗，缠两口赤铜刀，腾出门来，厉声高叫道：“你是那里来的个猴和尚？敢在此间大呼小叫的做甚？”行者骂道：“你这个剥皮的畜生！你弄甚么脱壳法儿，把我师父摄了，倒转问我做甚！趁早好好送我师父出来，还饶你这个性命！”虎怪道：“你师父是我拿了，要与我大王做顿下饭。你识起倒[25]，回去罢！不然，拿住你一齐凑吃，却不是‘买一个又饶一个’？”行者闻言，心中大怒；扢迸迸，钢牙错啮；滴流流，火眼睁圆；掣铁棒喝道：“你多大欺心，敢说这等大话！休走！看棍！”那先锋急持刀按住。这一场果然不善，他两个各显威能。好杀：
那怪是个真鹅卵，悟空是个鹅卵石。
赤铜刀架美猴王，浑如垒卵来击石。
鸟鹊怎与凤凰争？鹁鸽敢和鹰鹞敌？
那怪喷风灰满山，悟空吐雾云迷日。
来往不禁三五回，先锋腰软全无力。
转身败了要逃生，却被悟空抵死逼。
那虎怪撑持不住，回头就走。他原来在那洞主面前说了嘴，不敢回洞，径往山坡上逃生。行者那里肯放，执着棒，只情赶来，呼呼吼吼，喊声不绝，却赶到那藏风山凹之间。正抬头，见八戒在那里放马。八戒忽听见呼呼声喊，回头观看，乃是行者赶败的虎怪，就丢了马，举起钯，刺斜着头一筑。可怜那先锋，脱身要跳黄丝网，岂知又遇罩鱼人。却被八戒一钯，筑得九个窟窿鲜血冒，一头脑髓尽流干。有诗为证。诗曰：
三二年前归正宗，持斋把素悟真空。
诚心要保唐三藏，初秉沙门立此功。
那呆子一脚住他的脊背，两手抡钯又筑。行者见了，大喜道：“兄弟，正是这等！他领了几十个小妖，敢与老孙赌斗！被我打败了，他转不往洞跑，却跑来这里寻死。亏你接着，不然又走了。”八戒道：“弄风摄师父去的可是他？”行者道：“正是，正是。”八戒道：“你可曾问他师父的下落么？”行者道：“这怪把师父拿在洞里，要与他甚么鸟大王做下饭。是老孙恼了，就与他斗将这里来，却着你送了性命。兄弟呀，这个功劳算你的。你可还守着马与行李，等我把这死怪拖了去，再到那洞口索战。须是拿得那老妖，方才救得师父。”八戒道：“哥哥说得有理。你去，你去。若是打败了这老妖，还赶将这里来，等老猪截住杀他。”好行者，一只手提着铁棒，一只手拖着死虎，径至他洞口。正是：法师有难逢妖怪，情性相和伏乱魔。毕竟不知此去可降得妖怪，救得唐僧，且听下回分解。
[1] 人牛不见时：佛教用牛比喻修行进度，有所谓《十牛图》。第八种境界为人牛俱忘，即人牛不见时，认为这是大乘的“我法俱空”的成就。
[2] 打开门户：指懂得、领悟所谓修道的门径。
[3] 赃埋人：栽赃、诬蔑、栽人的意思。
[4] 厌钝：扫兴、不顺遂。
[5] 别颏腮：别，“瘪”的同音字。别颏腮就是瘪嘴巴、瘪腮帮子。后文第二十三回“肚别腰松”、第二十七回“嘴唇往下别”的“别”与此同。
[6] 俊刮：漂亮、俊俏、刮净、利落。
[7] 踢天弄井：上天入地的事都能做，形容本事大。
[8] 撞头：胡乱撞。
[9] 干净：完全的意思。
[10] （qiānɡ）：这里是形容行路歪斜的样子。
[11] 令嗣：对方儿子的尊称。
[12] 汤（tánɡ）：搪、碰。后文第二十二回写作“荡”。
[13] 滴答：啰嗦的意思。
[14] 发课：即“起课”，一种占卜方法。
[15] 五爻六爻：爻是《易经》组成卦象的基本符号，包括阳爻“—”和阴爻“--”。卦象都由六个爻由下到上组成，最上边的两个分别是五爻和六爻。前边老人说的“无肴”是指没有菜肴，八戒故意说成“五爻六爻”来打趣。
[16] 背马：即鞴马，把鞍辔套在马身上。
[17] 哈话：愚蠢的话、丢人话。
[18] 骨都都：形容连续不断地向外冒。
[19] 磨担：挑东西时换肩的动作。
[20] 的竖：直竖。
[21] 案酒：下酒物。第四十一回亦作“按酒”。
[22] 撒：方言词。把物品捆紧。
[23] 劣蹶：通常形容马不驯顺。因为马在犯性的时候，尥蹶子、咬群，给它好的草料也不吃。此处就是用这个意思做比喻。
[24] 许大：偌大、很大。
[25] 起倒：犹高低、抬举。
CHAPTER 20. At Yellow Wind Ridge the Tang Monk meets adversity; In mid-mountain, Eight Rules strives to be first.
The dharma is born through the mind;
It’ll be destroyed, too, through the mind.
By whom it is destroyed or born,
That you must determine yourself.
If it is through your own mind,
Why do others need to tell you?
All that you need is your hard work
To draw blood out of iron ore.
Let a silk cord puncture your nose
To tie a firm knot on the void;
Fasten that to the no-work tree,1
That you’d not be vicious and wild.
Regard not the thief as your son,
And forget all dharma and mind.
Let not the Other deceive me:
With one big punch strike him out first.
The manifest mind’s also no mind;
Manifest Law is law that’s stopped.
When both Bull2 and Man disappear,
The jade-green sky is bright and clear.
Any autumn moon’s just as round:
You can’t tell one from the other.
This enigmatic gāthā was composed by Xuanzang, master of the law, after he had thoroughly mastered the Heart Sūtra, which had, in fact, broken through the gate of his understanding. He recited it frequently, and the beam of spiritual light penetrated by itself to his innermost being.
We turn now to tell you about the three travelers, who dined on the wind and rested by the waters, who clothed themselves with the moon and cloaked themselves with the stars on their journey. Soon, it was the scene of summer again, beneath a torrid sky. They saw
Flowers gone, and butterflies cared not to linger;
On tall trees the cicada chirp turned brazen.
Wild worms made their cocoons, fair pomegranates their fire,
As new lilies in the ponds appeared.3
As they were traveling one day, it was growing late again when they saw a hamlet beside the mountain road. “Wukong,” said Tripitaka, “look at that sun setting behind the mountain, hiding its fiery orb, and the moon rising on the eastern sea, revealing an icy wheel. It’s a good thing that a family lives by the road up there. Let us ask for lodging for the night and proceed tomorrow.” “You are right!” said Eight Rules. “Old Hog is rather hungry, too! Let’s go and beg for some food at the house. Then I can regain my strength to pole the luggage.”
“This family-hugging devil!” said Pilgrim. “You only left the family a few days ago, and you are already beginning to complain.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “I’m not like you—I can’t imbibe the wind and exhale the mist. Since I began following our master a few days ago, I’ve been half hungry all the time. Did you know that?” Hearing this, Tripitaka said, “Wuneng, if your heart still clings to the family, you are not the kind of person who wants to leave it. You may as well turn back!” Idiot was so taken aback that he fell on his knees and said, “Master, please do not listen to the words of Elder Brother. He loves to put blame on others: I haven’t made any complaint, but he said that I was complaining. I’m only an honest moron, who said that I was hungry so that we could find some household to beg for food. Immediately he called me a family-hugging devil! Master, I received the commandments from the Bodhisattva and mercy from you, and that was why I was determined to serve you and go to the Western Heaven. I vow that I have no regrets. This is, in fact, what they call the practice of strict austerities. What do you mean, I’m not willing to leave the family?” “In that case,” said Tripitaka, “you may get up.”
Leaping up with a bound, Idiot was still muttering something as he picked up the pole with the luggage. He had no choice but to follow his companions with complete determination up to the door of the house by the wayside. Tripitaka dismounted, Pilgrim took the reins, and Eight Rules put down the luggage, all standing still beneath the shade of a large tree. Holding his nine-ringed priestly staff and pressing down his rain hat woven of straw and rattan, Tripitaka went to the door first. He saw inside an old man reclining on a bamboo bed and softly reciting the name of Buddha. Tripitaka dared not speak loudly; instead, he said very slowly and quietly, “Patron, salutations!” The old man jumped up and at once began to straighten out his attire. He walked out of the door to return the greeting, saying, “Honored Priest, pardon me for not coming to meet you. Where did you come from? What are you doing at my humble abode?” “This poor monk,” said Tripitaka, “happens to be a priest from the Great Tang in the Land of the East. In obedience to an imperial decree, I am journeying to the Great Thunderclap Temple to seek scriptures from the Buddha. It was getting late when I arrived in your esteemed region, and I would beg for shelter for one night in your fine mansion. I beseech you to grant me this favor.” “You can’t go there,” said the old man, shaking his head and waving his hand, “it’s exceedingly difficult to bring scriptures back from the Western Heaven. If you want to do that, you might as well go the Eastern Heaven!” Tripitaka fell silent, thinking to himself, “The Bodhisattva clearly told me to go to the West. Why does this old man now say that I should head for the East instead? Where in the East would there be any scriptures?” Terribly flustered and embarrassed, he could not make any reply for a long time.
We now tell you about Pilgrim, who had always been impulsive and mischievous. Unable to restrain himself, he went forward and said in a loud voice, “Old man! Though you are of such great age, you don’t have much common sense. We monks have traveled a great distance to come and ask you for shelter, and here you are trying to intimidate us with discouraging words. If your house is too small and there’s not enough space for us to sleep, we’ll sit beneath the trees for the night and not disturb you.” “Master!” said the old man, taking hold of Tipitaka, “you don’t say anything. But that disciple of yours with a pointed chin, shriveled cheeks, a thunder-god mouth, and blood-red eyes—he looks like a demon with a bad case of consumption—how dare he offend an aged person like me!”
“An old fellow like you,” said Pilgrim with a laugh, “really has very little discernment! Those who are handsome may be good for their looks only! A person like me, old Monkey, may be small but tough, like the skin around a ball of ligaments!” “I suppose you must have some abilities,” said the old man. “I won’t boast,” said Pilgrim, “but they are passable.” “Where did you used to live?” asked the old man, “and why did you shave your hair to become a monk?” “The ancestral home of old Monkey,” said Pilgrim, “is at the Water-Curtain Cave in the Flower-Fruit Mountain, in the Aolai Country of the East Pūrvavideha Continent. I learned to be a monster-spirit in my youth, assuming the name of Wukong, and with my abilities I finally became the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven. Because I did not receive any acceptable appointment in Heaven, I caused great turmoil in the Celestial Palace, and incurred great calamities for myself. I was, however, delivered from my ordeals and have turned to Buddhism instead to seek the fruits of Truth. As a guardian of my master, who is in the service of the Tang court, I am journeying to the Western Heaven to worship Buddha. Why should I fear tall mountains, treacherous roads, wide waters, and wild waves? I, old Monkey, can apprehend monsters, subdue demons, tame tigers, capture dragons—in sum, I know a little about all the matters that a person needs to know to go up to Heaven or to descend into Earth. If by chance your household is suffering from some such disturbances as flying bricks and dancing tiles, or talking pots and doors opening by themselves, old Monkey can quiet things down for you.”
When that old man heard this lengthy speech, he roared with laughter and said, “So you are really a garrulous monk who begs for alms from place to place!” “Only your son is garrulous!” said Pilgrim. “I’m not very talkative these days, because following my master on his journey is quite tiring.” “If you were not tired,” said that old man, “and if you were in the mood to chatter, you would probably talk me to death! Since you have such abilities, I suppose you can go to the West successfully. How many of you are there? You may rest in my thatched hut.” “We thank the old patron for not sending us away,” said Tripitaka; “there are three of us altogether.” “Where is the third member of your party?” asked the old man. “Your eyes must be somewhat dim, old man,” said Pilgrim. “Isn’t he over there standing in the shade?” The old man did indeed have poor sight; he raised his head and stared intently. The moment he saw Eight Rules with his strange face and mouth, he became so terrified that he started to rush back into the house, tripping at every step. “Shut the door! Shut the door!” he cried. “A monster is coming!” Pilgrim caught hold of him, saying, “Don’t be afraid, old man! He’s no monster; he’s my younger brother.” “Fine! Fine! Fine!” said the old man, shaking all over. “One monk uglier than another!”
Eight Rules approached him and said, “You are really mistaken, Aged Sir, if you judge people by their looks. We may be ugly, but we are all useful.” As the old man was speaking with the three monks in front of his house, two young men appeared to the south of the village, leading an old woman and several young children. All of them had their clothes rolled up and were walking barefoot, for they were returning after a day’s planting of young shoots of grain. When they saw the white horse, the luggage, and the goings-on in front of their house, they all ran forward, asking, “What are you people doing here?” Turning his head, Eight Rules flapped his ears a couple of times and stuck out his long snout once, so frightening the people that they fell down right and left, madly scattering in every direction. Tripitaka, alarmed, kept saying, “Don’t be afraid! Don’t be afraid! We are not bad people! We are monks in quest of scriptures.” Coming out of his house, the old man helped the old woman up, saying, “Mama, get up! Calm yourself. This master came from the Tang court. His disciples may look hideous, but they are really good people with ugly faces. Take the boys and girls back into the house.” Clutching at the old man, the old woman walked inside with the two young men and their children.
Sitting on the bamboo bed in their house, Tripitaka began to protest, saying, “Disciples! The two of you are not only ugly in appearance, but you are also rude in your language. You have scared this family badly, and you are causing me to sin.” “To tell you the truth, Master,” said Eight Rules, “since I started accompanying you, I have become a lot better behaved. At the time when I was living in Old Gao Village, all I needed to do was to pout and flap my ears once, and scores of people would be frightened to death!” “Stop talking rubbish, Idiot,” said Pilgrim, “and fix your ugliness.” “Look at the way Wukong talks,” said Tripitaka. “Your appearance comes with your birth. How can you tell him to fix it?” “Take that rakelike snout,” said Pilgrim, “put it in your bosom, and don’t take it out. And stick your rush-leaf-fan ears to the back of your head, and don’t shake them. That’s fixing it.” Eight Rules did indeed hide his snout and stick his ears to the back of his head; with his hands folded in front of him to hide his head, he stood on one side of his master. Pilgrim took the luggage inside the main door, and tied the white horse to one of the posts in the courtyard.
The old man then brought a young man in to present three cups of tea placed on a wooden tray. After the tea, he ordered a vegetarian meal to be prepared. Then the young man took an old, unvarnished table full of holes and several stools with broken legs, and placed them in the courtyard for the three of them to sit where it was cool. Only then did Tripitaka ask, “Old patron, what is your noble surname?” “Your humble servant goes by the surname of Wang,” said the old man. “And how many heirs do you have?” asked Tripitaka. “I have two sons and three grandchildren,” said the old man. “Congratulations! Congratulations!” said Tripitaka. “And what is your age?” “I have foolishly lived till my sixty-first year,” the old man said. “Good! Good! Good!” said Pilgrim. “You have just begun a new sexagenary cycle.” “Old patron,” said Tripitaka again, “you said when we first came that the scriptures in the Western Heaven were difficult to get. Why?” “The scriptures are not hard to get,” said the old man, “but the journey there is filled with hazards and difficulties. Some thirty miles west of us there is a mountain called the Yellow Wind Ridge of Eight Hundred Miles. Monsters infest that mountain, and that’s what I meant by difficulties. Since this little priest claims that he has many abilities, however, you may perhaps proceed after all.” “No fear! No fear!” said Pilgrim. “With old Monkey and his younger brother around, we’ll never be touched, no matter what kind of monster we meet.”
While they spoke, one of the sons brought out some rice and placed it on the table, saying, “Please eat.” Tripitaka immediately folded his hands to begin his grace, but Eight Rules had already swallowed a whole bowl of rice. Before the priest could say the few sentences, Idiot had devoured three more bowlfuls. “Look at the glutton!” said Pilgrim. “It’s like we’ve met a preta!” Old Wang was a sensitive person. When he saw how fast Eight Rules was eating, he said, “This honored priest must be really hungry! Quick, bring more rice!” Idiot in truth had an enormous appetite. Look at him! Without lifting his head once, he finished over ten bowls, while Tripitaka and Pilgrim could hardly finish two. Idiot refused to stop and wanted to eat still more. “In our haste we have not prepared any dainty viands,” said old Wang, “and I dare not press you too much. Please take at least one more helping.” Both Tripitaka and Pilgrim said, “We have had enough.” “Old man,” said Eight Rules, “what are you mumbling about? Who’s having a game of divination with you? Why mention all that about the fifth yao and the sixth yao?4 If you have rice, just bring more of it, that’s all!” So Idiot in one meal finished all the rice in that household, and then he said he was only half full! The tables and dishes were cleared away, and after bedding had been placed on the bamboo bed and on some wooden boards, the travelers rested.
The next morning, Pilgrim went to saddle the horse, while Eight Rules put their luggage in order. Old Wang asked his wife to prepare some refreshments and drinks to serve them, after which the three of them expressed their thanks and took leave of their host. The old man said, “If there is any mishap on your journey after you leave here, you must feel free to return to our house.” “Old man,” said Pilgrim, “don’t speak such disconcerting words. Those of us who have left the family never retrace our steps!” They then urged on the horse, picked up the luggage, and proceeded toward the West. Alas! What this journey means for them is that
There’s no safe way which leads to the Western Realm;
There’ll be great disasters brought by demons vile.
Before the three of them had traveled for half a day, they did indeed come upon a tall mountain, exceedingly rugged. Tripitaka rode right up to the hanging cliff and looked around, sitting sideways on his saddle. Truly
Tall was the mountain;
Rugged, the peak;
Steep, the precipice;
Deep, the canyon;
Gurgling, the stream;
And fresh were the flowers.
This mountain, whether tall or not,
Its top reached the blue sky;
This stream, whether deep or not,
Its floor opened to Hell below.
Before the mountain,
White clouds rose in continuous rings
And boulders in shapes grotesque.
Countless the soul-rending cliffs ten thousand yards deep;
Behind them, winding, twisting, dragon-hiding caves,
Where water dripped from ledges drop by drop.
He also saw some deer with zigzag horns;
Dull and dumbly staring antelopes;
Winding and coiling red-scaled pythons;
Silly and foolish white-faced apes;
Tigers that climbed the hills to seek their dens at night;
Dragons that churned the waves to leave their lairs at dawn.
If one stepped before a cave’s entrance,
The dead leaves crackled;
The fowls in the grass
Darted up with wings loudly beating;
The beasts in the forest
Walked with paws noisily scratching.
Suddenly wild creatures hurried by,
Making hearts beat with fear.
Thus it was that the Due-to-Fall Cave duly faced the Due-to-Fall Cave,5
The Cave duly facing the Due-to-Fall Cave duly faced the mount.
One blue bill dyed like a thousand yards of jade,
Mist-veiled like countless mounds of jade-green gauze.
The master rode forward very slowly, while the Great Sage Sun also walked at a slower pace and Zhu Wuneng proceeded leisurely with the load. As all of them were looking at the mountain, a great whirlwind suddenly arose. Alarmed, Tripitaka said, “Wukong, the wind is rising!” “Why fear the wind?” said Pilgrim. “This is the breath of Heaven in the four seasons, nothing to be afraid of.” “But this is a terribly violent wind, unlike the kind that comes from Heaven,” said Tripitaka. “How so?” said Pilgrim. Tripitaka said, “Look at this wind!
Augustly it blows in a blusterous key,
An immense force leaving the jade-green sky.
It passes the ridge, just hear the trees roar.
It moves in the wood, just see the poles quake.
Willows by the banks are rocked to the roots;
Blown garden flowers now soar with their leaves.
Fishing boats, nets drawn, make their hawsers taut;
Vessels with sails down have their anchors cast.
Trekkers in mid-journey have lost their way;
Woodsmen in the hills cannot hold their loads.
From woods with fruits divine the apes disperse;
From clumps of rare flowers the small fawns flee.
Before the cliff cypress fall one by one;
Downstream bamboo and pine die leaf by leaf.
Earth and dust are scattered while sand explodes;
Rivers and seas overturned, waves churn and roll.”
Eight Rules went forward and tugged at Pilgrim, saying, “Elder Brother, the wind is too strong! Let’s find shelter until it dies down.” “You are too soft, Brother,” said Pilgrim, laughing, “when you want to hide the moment the wind gets strong. What would happen to you if you were to meet a monster-spirit face to face?” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “you probably haven’t heard of the proverb,
Flee the fair sex like a foe;
Flee the wind like an arrow!
We suffer no loss if we take shelter just for a little while.”
“Stop talking,” said Pilgrim, “and let me seize the wind and smell it.” “You are fibbing again, Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, with a laugh, “for how can the wind be seized for you to smell? Even if you manage to catch hold of it, it will slip past you at once.” “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “you didn’t know that I have the magic to ‘seize the wind.’” Dear Great Sage! He allowed the head of the wind to move past but he caught hold of its tail and sniffed at it. Finding it somewhat fetid, he said, “This is indeed not a very good wind, for it smells like a tiger or else like a monster; there’s something definitely strange about it.”
Hardly had he finished speaking when from over a hump of the mountain a fierce striped tiger with a whiplike tail and powerful limbs appeared. Tripitaka was so horrified that he could no longer sit on the saddle; he fell head over heels from the white horse and lay beside the road, half out of his wits. Throwing down the luggage, Eight Rules took up his muckrake and rushed past Pilgrim. “Cursed beast!” he shouted. “Where are you going?” He lunged forward and struck at the beast’s head. That tiger stood straight up on his hind legs and, raising his left paw, punctured his own breast with one jab. Then, gripping the skin, he tore downward with a loud rending noise and he became completely stripped of his own hide as he stood there by the side of the road. Look how abominable he appears! Oh! That hideous form:
All smeared with blood, the naked body;
Most sickly red, the warped legs and feet;
Like shooting flames, wild hair by the temples;
Bristlingly hard, two eyebrows pointing upward;
Hellishly white, four steel-like fangs;
With light aglow, a pair of gold eyes;
Imposing of mien, he mightily roared;
With power fierce, he cried aloud.
“Slow down! Slow down!” he shouted. “I am not any other person. I am the vanguard of the forces commanded by the Great King Yellow Wind. I have received the Great King’s strict order to patrol this mountain and to catch a few mortals to be used as hors d’oeuvres for him. Where did you monks come from that you dare reach for your weapons to harm me?” “Cursed beast that you are!” cried Eight Rules. “So you don’t recognize me! We are no mortals who just happen to be passing by; we are the disciples of Tripitaka, the royal brother of the Great Tang Emperor in the Land of the East, who by imperial decree is journeying to the Western Heaven to seek scriptures from the Buddha. You better stand aside quickly for us to pass, and don’t alarm my master. Then I’ll spare your life. But if you are impudent as before, there will be no clemency when this rake is lifted up!”
That monster-spirit would not permit any further discussion. He quickly drew near, assumed a fighting pose, and clawed at Eight Rules’s face. Dodging the blow, Eight Rules struck at once with his rake. Since the monster had no weapons in his hands, he turned and fled, with Eight Rules hard on his heels. Racing to the slope below, the monster took out from beneath a clump of rocks a pair of bronze scimitars, with which he turned to face his pursuer. So the two of them clashed right in front of the mountain slope, closing in again and again. Meanwhile, Pilgrim lifted up the Tang Monk and said, “Master, don’t be afraid. Sit here and let old Monkey go help Eight Rules strike down that monster so that we can leave.” Only then did Tripitaka manage to sit up; trembling all over, he began to recite the Heart Sūtra, but we shall say no more of that.
Whipping out the iron rod, Pilgrim shouted, “Catch him!” Eight Rules at once attacked with even greater ferocity, and the monster fled in defeat. “Don’t spare him,” yelled Pilgrim. “We must catch him!” Wielding rod and rake, the two of them gave chase down the mountain. In panic, the monster resorted to the trick of the gold cicada casting its shell: he rolled on the ground and changed back into the form of a tiger. Pilgrim and Eight Rules would not let up. Closing in on the tiger, they intended to dispose of him once and for all. When the monster saw them approaching, he again stripped himself of his own hide and threw the skin over a large piece of rock, while his true form changed into a violent gust of wind heading back the way he had come. Suddenly noticing the master of the law sitting by the road and reciting the Heart Sūtra, he caught hold of him and hauled him away by mounting the wind. O, pity that Tripitaka,
The River Float fated to suffer oft!
It’s hard to make merit in Buddha’s gate!
Having taken the Tang Monk back to the door of his cave, the monster stopped the wind and said to the one standing guard at the door, “Go report to the Great King and say that the Tiger Vanguard has captured a monk. He awaits his order outside the door.” The Cave Master gave the order for him to enter. The Tiger Vanguard, with the two bronze scimitars hanging from his waist, lifted up the Tang Monk in his hands. He went forward and knelt down, saying, “Great King! Though your humble officer is not talented, he thanks you for granting him the honored command of doing patrol in the mountain. I encountered a monk who is Tripitaka, master of the law and brother to the Throne of the Great Tang in the Land of the East. While he was on his way to seek scriptures from Buddha, I captured him to present to you here for your culinary pleasure.” When the Cave Master heard this, he was a little startled. “I have heard some rumor,” he said, “that the master of the law Tripitaka is a divine monk who is going in search of scriptures by imperial decree of the Great Tang. He has under him a disciple whose name is Pilgrim Sun and who possesses tremendous magical power and prodigious intelligence. How did you manage to catch him and bring him here?”
“He has, in fact, two disciples,” said the Vanguard. “The one who appeared first used a nine-pronged muckrake, and he had a long snout and huge ears. Another one used a golden-hooped iron rod, and he had fiery eyes and diamond pupils. As they were chasing me to attack me, I used the trick of the gold cicada casting its shell and succeeded not only in eluding them but also in catching this monk. I now respectfully present him to the Great King as a meal.” “Let’s not eat him yet,” said the Cave Master.
“Great King,” said the Vanguard, “only a worthless horse turns away ready feed!” “You haven’t considered this,” said the Cave Master. “There’s nothing wrong with eating him, but I’m afraid his two disciples may come to our door and argue with us. Let’s tie him instead to one of the posts in the rear garden and wait for three or four days. If those two don’t show up to disturb us, then we can enjoy the double benefit of having his body cleaned and not having to bicker with our tongues. Then we can do what we want with him, whether we wish him boiled, steamed, fried, or sautéed; we can take our time to enjoy him.” Highly pleased, the Vanguard said, “The Great King is full of wisdom and foresight, and what he says is most reasonable. Little ones, take the priest inside.”
Seven or eight demons rushed up from the sides and took the Tang Monk away; like hawks catching sparrows, they bound him firmly with ropes. This is how that
Ill-fated River Float on Pilgrim broods;
The god-monk in pain calls Wuneng to mind.
“Disciples,” he said, “I don’t know in what mountain you are catching monsters, or in what region you are subduing goblins. But I have been captured by this demon from whom I have to suffer great injury. When shall we see each other again? Oh, what misery! If you two can come here quickly, you may be able to save my life. But if you tarry, I shall never survive!” As he lamented and sighed, his tears fell like rain.
We now tell you about Pilgrim and Eight Rules, who, having chased the tiger down the slope of the mountain, saw him fall and collapse at the foot of the cliff. Lifting his rod, Pilgrim brought it down on the tiger with all his might, but the rod bounced back up and his hands were stung by the impact. Eight Rules, too, gave a blow with his muckrake, and its prongs also rebounded. They then discovered that it was nothing but a piece of tigerskin covering a large slab of stone. Greatly startled, Pilgrim said, “Oh, no! Oh, no! He’s tricked us!” “What trick?” asked Eight Rules. Pilgrim replied, “This is called the trick of the gold cicada casting its shell. He left his skin covering the stone here to fool us, but he himself has escaped. Let’s go back at once to take a look at Master. Let’s hope that he has not been hurt.” They retreated hurriedly, but Tripitaka had long vanished. Bellowing like thunder, Pilgrim cried, “What shall we do? He has taken Master away.” “Heavens! Heavens!” wailed Eight Rules, leading the horse, as tears fell from his eyes, “where shall we go to look for him?” With head held high, Pilgrim said, “Don’t cry! Don’t cry! The moment you cry, you already feel defeated. They have to be somewhere in this mountain. Let’s go and search for them.”
The two of them indeed rushed up the mountain, passing the ridges and scaling the heights. After traveling for a long time, they suddenly beheld a cave dwelling emerging from beneath a cliff. Pausing to take a careful look around, they saw that it was indeed a formidable place. You see
A pointed peak fortresslike;
An old path ever winding;
Blue pines and fresh bamboos;
Green willows and verdant wu-trees;6
Strange rocks in twos below the cliff;
Rare fowls in pairs within the woods.
A stream flowing far away spills over a wall of stones;
The mountain brook reaches the sandy banks in small drops.
Wasteland clouds in clusters;
And grass as green as jade.
The sly vixen and hare scamper wildly about;
Horned deer and musk deer lock to contest their strength.
Slanted across the cliff dangles an aged vine;
Half down the gorge an ancient cedar hangs.
August and grand, this place surpasses Mount Hua;7
The falling blooms and singing birds rival Tiantai’s.
“Worthy Brother,” said Pilgrim, “you may leave the luggage in the fold of the mountain, where it will be protected from the wind. Then you can graze the horse nearby and you need not come out. Let old Monkey go fight with him at his door. That monster has to be caught before our master can be rescued.” “No need for instructions,” said Eight Rules. “Go quickly!” Pulling down his shirt and tightening his belt on the tiger-skin skirt, Pilgrim grasped his rod and rushed up to the cave, where he saw six words in large letters above the door: “Yellow Wind Cave, Yellow Wind Peak.” He at once poised himself for battle, with legs apart and one foot slightly ahead of the other. Holding his rod high, he cried, “Monster! Send out my master at once, lest I overturn your den and level your dwelling!”
When the little demons heard this, every one of them was panic-stricken and ran inside to make the report, “Great King, disaster!” The Yellow Wind Monster, who was sitting there, asked, “What’s the matter?” “Outside the cave door there’s a monk with a thunder-god mouth and hairy face,” said one of the little demons, “holding in his hands a huge, thick, iron rod and demanding the return of his master.” Somewhat fearful, the Cave Master said to the Tiger Vanguard, “I asked you to patrol the mountain, and you should merely have caught a few mountain buffalo, wild boar, fat deer, or wild goats. Why did you have to bring back a Tang Monk? Now we have provoked his disciple to come here to create all sorts of disturbance. What shall we do?” “Don’t be anxious, Great King,” said the Vanguard, “and put your worries to rest. Though this junior officer is untalented, he is willing to lead fifty soldiers out there and bring in that so-called Pilgrim Sun as a condiment for your meal.” “In addition to the various officers here,” said the Cave Master, “we have some seven hundred regulars. You may pick as many of them as you want. Only if that Pilgrim is caught will we be able to enjoy a piece of that monk’s flesh with any comfort. And if that happens, I’m willing to become your bond brother. But I fear that if you can’t catch him, you may even get hurt. You mustn’t blame me then!”
“Relax! Relax! Let me go now!” said the Tiger Monster. He checked off the roll fifty of the toughest little demons, who began beating drums and waving banners. He himself took up the two bronze scimitars and leaped out of the cave, crying with a loud voice, “Where did you come from, you monkey-monk, that you dare make such a racket here?!’ “You skin-flaying beast!” shouted Pilgrim. “You were the one who used that shell-casting trick to take away my master. Why do you question me instead? You better send out my master immediately, or I’ll not spare your life.” “I took your master,” said the Tiger Monster, “so that he could be served to my Great King as meat for his rice. If you know what’s good for you, get away from here. If not, I’ll catch you too, and you’ll be eaten along with him. It will be like ‘one free piece of merchandise with every purchase!’” When he heard this, Pilgrim was filled with anger. With grinding teeth and fiery eyes all ablaze, he lifted his iron rod and yelled, “What great ability do you have, that you dare talk like that? Don’t move! Watch this rod!” Wielding his scimitars swiftly, the Vanguard turned to meet him. It was truly some battle as the two of them let loose their power. What a fight!
That monster is truly a goose’s egg,
But Wukong is a goose-egg stone no less!
When bronze swords fight Handsome Monkey King,
It’s like eggs coming to strike at stones.
How can sparrows quarrel with the phoenix?
Dare pigeons oppose the eagles and hawks?
The monster belches wind—the mount’s filled with dust;
Wukong spits out fog and clouds hide the sun.
They fight for no more than four or five rounds;
The Vanguard grows weak, having no strength left.
He turns in defeat to flee for his life,
Hard pressed by Wukong, who seeks his death.
Not able to hold out any longer, the monster turned and fled. But since he had boasted in front of the Cave Master, he dared not go back to the cave; instead, he fled toward the mountain slope. Pilgrim, of course, would not let him go; holding his rod, he gave chase relentlessly, shouting and crying along the way. As they reached the fold of the mountain, which formed a wind break, he happened to look up, and there was Eight Rules grazing the horse. Hearing all the shouts and clamor, Eight Rules turned around and saw that it was Pilgrim chasing a defeated Tiger Monster. Abandoning the horse, Eight Rules lifted his rake and approaching from one side brought it down hard on the monster’s head. Pity that Vanguard!
He hoped to leap clear of the brown-rope net,
Not knowing he would meet the fisher’s coop.
One blow from Eight Rules’s rake produced nine holes, from which fresh blood spurted out, and the brains of the monster’s whole head ran dry! We have a poem as a testimony for Eight Rules, which says:
Returning to True Teaching some years ago,
He kept a chaste diet to realize the Real Void.
To serve Tripitaka is his pious wish:
This, a new Buddhist convert’s first merit.
Idiot put his foot on the monster’s spine and brought down the rake on him once more. When Pilgrim saw that, he was very pleased, saying, “That’s right, Brother! He was audacious enough to lead scores of little demons against me, but he was defeated. Instead of fleeing back to the cave, he came here seeking death. It’s a good thing you are here, or else he would have escaped again.” “Is he the one who took our master with the wind?” asked Eight Rules. “Yes! Yes!’’ said Pilgrim. “Did you ask him the whereabouts of our master?’’ said Eight Rules. “This monster brought Master to the cave,” said Pilgrim, “to be served to some blackguard of a Great King as meat for his rice. I was enraged, fought with him, and chased him here for you to finish him off. Brother, this is your merit! You can remain here guarding the horse and luggage, and let me drag this dead monster back to the mouth of the cave to provoke battle again. We must capture the old monster before we can rescue Master.” “You are right, Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules. “Go, go now! If you beat that old monster, chase him here and let old Hog intercept and kill him.” Dear Pilgrim! Holding the iron rod in one hand and dragging the dead tiger with the other, he went back to the mouth of the cave. So it was that
The dharma-master met monsters in his ordeal;
Feeling and nature in peace wild demons subdued.
We do not know whether he managed this time to overcome the monster and rescue the Tang Monk; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.