Journey to the West (vol. 1)

Chapter 29

Sanzang, Delivered, Crosses a Border

A Grateful Pig Tours Mountains and Forests

A poem says

If wild thoughts are not firmly suppressed

There is no point in seeking for the Truth;

If you wish to cultivate your nature before the Buddha,

Why stay halfway between awakening and confusion?

Once awakened you can achieve the Right in an instant;

The confused will drift for ten thousand aeons.

If you can invoke the Buddha and cultivate the Truth,

Sins countless as the Ganges sands can be wiped out.

Pig and Friar Sand had fought thirty inconclusive rounds with the monster. Do you know why they were inconclusive? As far as skill went not even twenty monks, let alone two, would have been a match for that evil I spirit. Yet because the Tang Priest was not fated to die he was being secretly protected by Dharma-guarding deities. There were also the Six 9” Dings, the Six Jias, the Revealers of the Truth of the Five Regions, the Four Duty Gods, and the Eighteen Defenders of the Faith helping Pig and Friar Sand in mid-air.

We must leave the three of them locked in struggle and return to Sanzang sobbing his heart out in the cave and speculating about his disciples. “I wonder if you have met a benefactor in a village somewhere, Pig,” he thought, tears streaming down his face, “and have been overcome by your greed for the offerings. Wherever are you looking for him, Friar Sand? Will you find him? Little do you know of my sufferings at the hands of this fiend I have run into. When will I see you again and be delivered from my troubles so that we can hurry to the Vulture Peak?” As he fretted and wailed he saw a woman come out from the innermost part of the cave. “Venerable father,” she said, leaning on the soul-fixing stake, “where have you come from? Why has he tied you here?” When Sanzang heard this he sneaked a quick look at her through his tears and observed that she was about thirty. “Don't ask me that, Bodhisattva,” he said, “I was fated to die: I walked into your home. Eat me if you must, but don't ask me why.”

“I don't eat people,” she replied. “My home is over a hundred miles West of here in the city called Elephantia. I'm the third daughter of the king, and my childhood name was Prettier-than-a-flower. Thirteen years ago, on the fifteenth night of the eighth month, that evil monster came and snatched me away in a whirlwind while we were out enjoying the full moon. I have been his wife all these thirteen years and borne him sons and daughters, but I've never been able to send any message home. I miss my parents, and I can never see them. Where did you come from to be caught by him?”

“I was sent to the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures,” replied Sanzang. “I never realized when I set out for a stroll that I would stumble into this. Now he's going to capture my two disciples and steam us all together, then eat us.”

“Don't worry, venerable sir,” said the princess with a smile. “As you are going to fetch scriptures I can save you. Elephantia lies on the main route to the West, and if you will take this letter to my parents for me, I'll make him spare your life.”

“If you save my wretched life, Bodhisattva,” said Sanzang with a bow, “I promise to be your messenger.”

The princess hurried back inside, wrote a letter to her family, sealed it, released Sanzang from the stake, and handed him the letter. “Bodhisattva,” he said, taking the letter now that he was free, “I am very grateful to you for saving my life. When I reach your country I shall give this to the King. My only worry is that after all these years your parents may not believe that the letter is from you, and what would I do then? I couldn't have them thinking that I was trying to deceive them.”

“That's no problem. My father has only us three daughters and no sons. If they see this letter they'll feel that they're seeing me.” Tucking the letter securely into his sleeve, he took his leave of the princess, and was on the point of going out when she pulled him back and said, “You won't be able to get out through the front gate. All those big and little monsters are outside the gates waving banners, shouting war-cries, and beating drums and gongs to help the monster king in his battle with your two disciples. You'd better go out the back way. If the monster king catches you he'll interrogate you under torture, and if the junior fiends grab you they'll kill you without a qualm. I'll go to see him and talk him over. If he's prepared to let you go, your disciples can ask his permission for all three of you to go together.” Sanzang kowtowed and, as she had told him, left her, slipped out through the back door, and hid among the thorns rather than travel alone.

The princess, who had thought out a clever plan, hurried out through the front gates and made her way through the hosts of demons great and small to hear the furious clash of arms. Pig and Friar Sand were still fighting with the monster in mid-air. “Lord Yellow Robe,” she shouted at the top of her voice, and as soon as he heard her the demon king left Pig and Friar Sand, landed his cloud, and grasping his steel sword, took his wife by the arm.

“What is it, wife?” he asked.

“I was lying in bed asleep just now, husband,” she replied, “and I dreamt that I saw a god in golden armor.”

“What sort of god in golden armor?” he asked. “Why did he come here?”

“When I was a child in the palace,” she said, “I made a secret vow that if I married a good husband I would climb holy mountains, visit Immortals, and give alms to monks. I have now been happily married to you for thirteen years without ever mentioning the vow before, and the god in golden armor came to make me fulfil it. His shouting made me wake up, and then I realized it was a dream. I tidied myself up and came straight to tell you about it. To my surprise I found a monk tied to the stake. I beg you, lord and master, to respect my vow and spare that monk in your mercy. This will count as feeding monks and will fulfil my vow. Will you do this?”

“What a fusser you are, wife,” he replied. “Nothing to it. If I want to eat people I can easily catch a few more. If that's how things stand, let the monk go.”

“Please may he be released through the back door, husband?”

“What a thing to bother me with. Let him go, and I don't care whether it's by the front way or the back way.” The monster then grasped his sword once more and shouted, “Come here, Pig. I'm not afraid of you, but I'm not fighting you any longer. For my wife's sake I've spared your master, so hurry round and find him at the back door and carry on West. If you set foot in my territory again I won't let you off a second time.”

This news made Pig and Friar Sand feel as if they had been let out through the gates of Hell. They scurried away with the horse and the baggage, and going round to the other end of the Moon Waters Cave they called “Master” outside the back entrance. Sanzang recognized their voices and called back from among the thorn bushes. Friar Sand made his way through the undergrowth, helped his master out, and hurriedly helped him mount the horse.

When he was threatened by the terrible blue-faced monster

He was lucky to meet the devout princess.

Escaping from the golden hook, the turtle

Swam off through the waves with a flick of his tail.

With Pig leading and Friar Sand bringing up the rear, they left the pine forest and traveled along the main track. The two disciples grumbled and complained, while Sanzang tried to conciliate them. Every evening they would find lodgings, and they would be up again at cock-crow. They covered stage after stage of their journey, sometimes longer and sometimes shorter, and before they realized it they had done ninety-nine miles. Suddenly they looked up and there was a fine city in front of them. This was Elephantia, and it was a splendid place:

Distant clouds,

A long road;

Although this was a distant land,

The scenery was as fine as home.

Auspicious mists enshrouded the city;

Fresh breezes were blowing under the clear moon.

Towering mountains, seen from afar,

Were spread out like a picture.

Rivers flowed rippling,

Like streams of crushed jasper.

There were fields upon fields of farmland

Where new crops sprouted close together.

A handful of fishermen worked three stretches of water,

A wood-gatherer carried twigs from a couple of hills.

The outer wall

And the inner wall of the city,

Were rock-solid.

The houses

And homes

Vied in elegance.

Nine-storied pavilions were like palaces,

High towers like imperial columns.

There was a Hall of the Great Ultimate,

A Flowery Canopied Hall,

A Hall of Incense,

A Hall of Literary Perusal,

A Hall of Government Proclaimed,

A Hall of Splendor Extended,

All with steps of jade and gold

Where civil and military officers stood in their ranks.

There was also a Great Brightness Palace,

A Palace of Shining Radiance,

A Palace of Eternal Joy,

A Palace of Illustrious Purity,

A Palace of Established Enlightenment,

A Palace of Inexhaustible Glory.

In every palace were gongs, drums, pipes and flutes,

Lamenting the sorrows of spring and the harem's woes.

Then there were imperial parks

Where dew bathed the flowers' tender petals;

And royal canals

Where willows bent their slender waists in the wind.

On the highways

Were belted gentlemen in official hats,

Attired in all their splendor

As they rode in five-horsed chariots;

In remote corners

Were archers with bows and arrows

Whose shots split the clouds apart

And skewered pairs of hawks.

What with the willow-lined streets,

And the houses full of music,

This spring scene rivaled the Luoyang Bridge.

The pilgrim who was seeking the sutras

Was torn with nostalgia for the Great Tang;

The disciples accompanying their master

In a rest-house found happiness in their dream.

Gazing at the view of Elephantia the master and his two disciples dealt with the luggage and the horse and settled down in a rest-house.

The Tang Priest went on foot to the palace gates, where he said to the High Custodian of the gate, “I beg you to report that there is a monk from the Tang Court who has come for a personal audience with His Majesty and has a letter of credentials.”

A eunuch messenger hurried to the white jade steps and announced, “Your Majesty, a distinguished priest from the Tang Court has come for an audience as he has a letter of credentials to deliver.” The king was delighted to hear that he was from the mighty land of Tang and was himself a venerable and holy monk, so he gave his approval at once with the words, “Call him in.”

Sanzang was summoned to the golden steps, where he danced in obeisance and called out the correct greeting. On either side the many civil and military officers all sighed with admiration and said, “What impressive music and ritual this gentleman from that distinguished country has.”

“Venerable sir, why have you come to my country?” the king asked.

“I am a Buddhist from the land of Tang,” Sanzang replied, “and I am going to the Western Heaven on the Emperor's orders to fetch the scriptures. I am carrying a letter of credentials, and now that I have arrived in Your Majesty's country it seems proper to hand it to you. Not knowing whether to advance or retreat, I must apologize for disturbing the Dragon Countenance.”

“If you have Tang credentials,” the king replied, “bring them here for me to see.” Sanzang handed the letter up respectfully with both hands and unfolded it on the king's table. It read:

From the Tang Emperor of the Great Tang Kingdom, who reigns by order of Heaven, in the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa.

Despite our feeble virtues we have succeeded to the throne, and in worshipping the gods and ruling the people we are as careful morning and night as if we were on the edge of a precipice or treading on thin ice. Because we failed to save the Dragon King of the Jing River, punishment was visited on our august self; our souls were rushed to the underworld and we became a guest in the land of death. As our lifespan was not yet over, the Lord of Darkness sent us back to the world of the living. We held a Great Assembly of monks and built a holy altar where the souls of the dead could be brought over to the other side. To our great gratitude the Bodhisattva Guanyin, the deliverer from suffering, appeared in person and told us that there is a Buddha in the West who has scriptures that will save the lost and bring lonely souls who have nobody to help them over to the other side. We have therefore especially commissioned the Patriarch Xuanzang to make the long journey across countless mountains to seek for the scriptures and psalms. Should he come to any countries in the West we hope that on seeing this letter they will allow him to go on his way and not impede this predestined good deed. This is addressed to whom it may concern. Given by His Imperial Majesty on an auspicious day in the autumn of the thirteenth year of Then Guan of the Great Tang.

When he had read this letter, which bore nine imperial seals, the king sealed it with his great seal and handed it back to Sanzang, who thanked him as he took it. “Not only did I have a letter of credentials to present,” he reported, “I have also brought a family letter to deliver to Your Majesty.” The king was delighted and asked what it was. “I happened to meet Your Majesty's third princess, who was carried off by the Yellow-Robed Monster of the Moon Waters Cave in the Bowl Mountain, and she gave me this letter to deliver to you.” Tears poured from the king's eyes at the news, and he said, “It is thirteen years since I saw her last, and I don't know how many military and civil officers I can have dismissed or degraded, and how many of the ladies-in-waiting, serving maids, and eunuchs I have had beaten to death since then. I imagined that she had wandered out of the palace and lost her way, and I looked for her everywhere. Even when all the ordinary citizens were interrogated I could find no news of her whereabouts. I never thought that an evil monster could have carried her off. Hearing this all of a sudden makes me weep for sorrow.” Sanzang produced the letter from his sleeve and handed it to the king, who on seeing the words, “All is well” on the outside felt so weak in his hands that he could not open it. He ordered a Grand Scholar from the Academy of Letters to climb the steps of the throne and read it aloud. As the Grand Scholar climbed the steps of the throne, the civil and military officials in front of the throne room and the empresses, royal consorts, and palace ladies behind it all listened intently. The Grand Scholar opened it and read aloud:

Your unworthy daughter Prettier-than-a-flower kowtows one hundred times to His Most Excellent Majesty the King her father in the Dragon and Phoenix Palace, to her Majesty the Queen her mother outside the Palace of Shining Radiance, and to all the noble ministers and generals of the court; it is my pleasure to send news to you and thank you for the infinite trouble you have taken on my behalf. But I am unable to devote myself to cheering Your Majesty and carry out my filial duties to the full.

Thirteen years ago, on the festive fifteenth night of the eighth month, when banquets were being given in all the palaces in accordance with Your Majesty's benevolent command, we were enjoying the moonlight and the clear stars. In the middle of our rejoicing a sudden gust of fragrant wind blew up, and from it emerged a demon king with golden pupils, a blue face, and green hair, who seized your daughter and carried her away on a magic cloud to a desolate mountain far from human habitation. There was no way I could stop him forcing me to be his wife, and I have had to endure this for thirteen years. I have borne him two fiendish sons, and they are both complete monsters. I would not have written to you and sullied you with the news of my uncivilized and disgraceful experiences, but I was afraid that after my death nobody would know what had happened to me. Just as I was missing my parents and angry about my fate, a Tang monk also happened to be captured by the monster, so with tears in my eyes I am boldly writing this letter and sending it to you as a token of my feelings. I beg you, Majesty, to take pity on me and send a general to the Moon Waters Cave in Bowl Mountain to capture the Yellow-robed Monster, rescue me, and take me back to the palace, this would make me profoundly grateful. Please excuse the hasty and disrespectful tone of this letter.

With more kowtows,

Your disobedient daughter,

Prettier-than-a-flower.

When the Grand Scholar had read it through, the king wept aloud, the ladies of the palace were all in tears, and the officials were all saddened. Everyone was miserable.

After weeping for a long time the king asked the civil and military officials which of them would lead troops to capture the monster and rescue Princess Prettier-than-a-flower for him. He asked them all several times, but nobody would accept, the generals looked as though they were carved out of wood, and the officials might have been molded from clay.

The king was highly agitated, and floods of tears were pouring down his face when the civil and military officials all prostrated themselves before him and said, “Please don't be so disturbed, Your Majesty. The princess has been lost for thirteen years now without anything being heard of her, so we cannot yet know whether she really met this Tang priest and sent a letter by him. Besides, we are all mere mortals, and the military manuals and books of strategy we have studied only cover the deployment of soldiers in battle, making encampments, and what else is necessary to protect the country from the disaster of invasion. That evil spirit travels by cloud and mist, and we would never even be able to catch sight of him, let alone capture him and rescue the Princess. Now that Easterner who is going to fetch scriptures is a holy priest from a great country. This monk must have demon-subduing powers as his 'high qualities overawe the dragons and tigers, and his great virtues give him power over devils and gods.'

“As the old saying goes, 'The man who comes to argue about rights and wrongs is usually the wrongdoer himself.' Far and away the best plan would be to ask this venerable gentleman to subdue the fiend and rescue the princess.”

“If you have any supernatural skills, venerable sir,” the king said, turning at once to Sanzang, “then use your dharma powers to capture this evil monster and bring my daughter back to the palace. If you do that there will be no need to travel to the West and visit the Buddha. You can let your hair grow and I will make you my brother. We shall sit together on the dragon throne and share my wealth and honour. What about it?”

“My only humble skill,” Sanzang hastened to reply, “lies in invoking the Buddha's name, and I really cannot subdue fiends.”

“If you can't subdue fiends,” the king retorted, “how can you have the courage to go to visit the Buddha in the Western Heaven?”

Sanzang now told him about the two disciples as he could not keep them a secret any longer. “Your Majesty,” he said, “I could scarcely have come this far by myself. I have two disciples, both skilled at finding ways across mountains and at bridging rivers, who have escorted me here.”

“You have behaved disgracefully, monk,” said the king angrily. “As you have disciples, you should have brought them with you to see me. Even if we could have offered them no presents they would have liked, they would at least have been given a meal.”

“My disciples are so hideous,” Sanzang replied, “that I dared not bring them to court for fear of offending Your Majesty's dignity.”

“What a monkish thing to say,” observed the king with a smile. “You don't really think I would be afraid of them, do you?”

“Oh, no,” said Sanzang. “The surname of the older one is Pig; his personal names are Wuneng, Awakened to Power, and Bajie, Eight Prohibitions. He has a long snout, vicious fangs, bristles of steel and ears as big as fans. He is so heftily built that he makes a breeze as he walks. The surname of the second disciple is Sand, and his Buddhist name is Monk Awakened to Purity. He is twelve feet tall, and his arms are four feet thick. His face is the color of indigo, and his mouth is like a bowl of blood. His eyes burn and flash, and his teeth are like rows of nails. It was because they both look so terrible that I did not dare bring them with me.”

“Even after you have told me about them,” said the king, “I know that I have nothing to fear. Have them summoned here.” With that a messenger with a golden tablet was sent to the rest-house to invite them to the palace.

On receiving the invitation the idiot said to Friar Sand, “Brother, do you still think he shouldn't have delivered the letter? Now you can see the advantages of delivering it. I reckon that when the master delivered it, the king must have thought that the person who brought such a message could not be treated rudely and so laid on a banquet for him. As our master has such a weak appetite he must have remembered us and mentioned our names. This is why the messenger was sent here. After a meal we'll be able to make a good start tomorrow.”

“This must have been in our destiny,” said Friar Sand. “Let's go.” Entrusting their baggage and the horse to the manager of the hostel they accompanied the messenger to court; they kept their weapons with them. When they reached the white jade steps they stood below them and chanted a “na-a-aw” of respect then stood there without moving. Every one of the civil and military officials was horrified.

“Apart from being hideous,” they said to each other, “they are far too coarse and vulgar. Why are they standing bolt upright after a mere 'na-a-aw' instead of prostrating themselves before His Majesty? Shocking, quite shocking.”

Overhearing this, pig said, “Please don't make rude comments on us, gentlemen. This is the way we look, and although we seem ugly at first sight, after a while we become quite bearable.”

The king, who had been quite frightened at the sight of their brutishness, trembled so violently on hearing the idiot Pig talking that he lost his balance and fell off his dragon throne. Fortunately the gentlemen-in-waiting were on hand to help him up again.

This threw Sanzang into such a panic that he fell to his knees and kowtowed without stopping, saying, “Your Majesty, I deserve to die ten thousand deaths, ten thousand deaths. I said that my disciples were too hideous for me to dare to bring them to court for fear of harming your dragon dignity, and now I have given Your Majesty this fright.”

The king walked shakily over to him, raised him to his feet, and said, “Thank goodness you warned me about them beforehand, venerable sir. Otherwise I would undoubtedly have died of shock at the sight of them.” When the king had taken some time to calm himself down he asked Pig and Friar Sand which of the two of them was better at subduing fiends.

“I am,” said the shameless idiot.

“How do you do it, pray?” the king asked.

“I am Marshal Tian Peng,” Pig replied, “and I was exiled to this mortal world for offending against part of the Heavenly Code. Happily I have now returned to the truth and become a monk. I am the best fiend-subduer of all of us who have come here from the East.”

“If you are a heavenly general turned mortal,” said the king, “you must be good at transformations.”

“I wouldn't say that much,” Pig replied, “but I can do one or two.”

“Show me one,” said the king.

“Tell me what you want me to turn into,” said Pig. “Turn into a giant, then,” said the king.

Pig, who could do thirty-six transformations, now showed off his powers before the steps of the throne. Clenching his fist and reciting the words of the spell he shouted “Grow!” bowed forward, and grew eighty or ninety feet tall. He looked like one of the paper gods carried at the head of funeral processions. The civil and military officials trembled with fright; monarch and subjects alike gazed at him in stupefaction.

Then the General Guarding the Palace said, “You have certainly grown very tall, venerable sir. How much taller could you grow before you had to stop?”

“It depends on the wind,” replied the idiot, talking in his idiotic way. “I can manage quite well in an East or a West wind, and if a South wind blows up I can make a big dent in the sky.”

“Then give your magic powers a rest,” said the king, more frightened than ever. “We are sure you can do that.” Pig contracted himself to his real size and stood in attendance at the foot of the steps once more.

“What weapon will you use to fight the monster on this mission?” the king asked. Pig pulled his rake from his belt and said, “This rake.”

“But that would disgrace us,” said the king with a smile. “Here we have steel whips, maces, claws on chains, war-hammers, cutlasses, halberds, pole-axes, battle-axes, swords, bills, spears, and battle-scythes. Choose one that suits you-that rake doesn't count as a real weapon.”

“What Your Majesty doesn't realize,” Pig replied, “is that although it's crude I've carried it around with me since I was a child. I depended on it completely when I commanded eighty thousand sailors and marines as marshal of the Milky Way, the Heavenly River. Down in this world as my master's escort I've used it to smash the dens of tigers and wolves in the mountains and to turn the nests of dragons and leviathans upside-down in rivers.”

The king was thoroughly delighted and convinced on hearing this, so he ordered nine of his Royal Consorts to fetch a bottle of his own royal wine with which to send the venerable Pig off; then he filled a goblet and presented it to Pig with the words, “May this cup of wine, venerable father, express my gratitude for the service you are going to render. When you capture the evil monster and bring back my daughter you will be rewarded with a state banquet and a thousand pieces of gold.” For all his coarseness the idiot accepted it with style.

“Master,” he said to Sanzang after chanting a “na-a-aw” of respect, “you should drink this wine first, but His Majesty gave it to me and I dare not disobey him. Please allow me to drink first as it will brace my spirits for the capture of the monster.”

He drained the cup in one gulp, refilled it, and handed it to Sanzang, who said, “As I cannot touch alcohol you two must drink it for me.” Friar Sand came over and took it. Clouds now sprouted under Pig's feet and he shot up into mid-air.

“Venerable Pig,” exclaimed the king, “you can walk on clouds too!”

When Pig had gone Friar Sand drained his cup of wine at one draft too and said, “When the Yellow-robed Monster captured you, master, the pair of us were only just a match for him in combat. I'm afraid that my elder brother won't be able to beat him by himself.”

“Yes,” Sanzang replied. “You'd better go and help him.”

When Friar Sand too sprang up into the air on a cloud and went off, the anxious king grabbed hold of Sanzang and said, “Stay here with me, venerable sir. Don't you go flying off on a cloud too.”

“I, alas, cannot take a single step by cloud.” We leave the two of them talking to each other in the palace.

“I'm here, brother,” said Friar Sand as he caught Pig up.

“Why?” Pig asked. “The master told me to come and lend you a hand,” replied Friar Sand.

“Good, it's as well you've come. We two'll do our damndest and capture this fiend. Even though it won't be anything very big, it'll at least make us famous in this country.”

On shimmering clouds they left the country,

Departing from the capital in a blaze of magic light.

On the king's command they came to the mountain cave

To fight hard side by side to capture the evil spirit.

Before long they reached the mouth of the cave and landed their cloud. Pig brought his rake down with all his might on the door of the cave and made a hole the size of a bucket in it. The junior demons guarding it were so frightened that they opened up the gates; at the sight of the pair of them they rushed inside to report, “Bad news, Your Majesty. The long-snouted monk with big ears and the other one with a horrible face have come back and smashed down our doors.”

“Pig and Friar Sand again?” exclaimed the monster in astonishment. “How dare they come and break down my door after I've spared their master's life?”

“Perhaps they've come to fetch something they left behind,” suggested a junior demon.

“Nonsense,” snorted the monster. “Would they break the gate down if they'd just left something behind?” He hastily tied on his armor, took his steel sword, went outside and asked, “Monks, what do you mean by smashing down my door? I spared your master, didn't I?”

“Will you do a decent thing, wretched ogre?” said Pig.

“What?” asked the old monster.

“You forced the Third Princess of the land of Elephantia to come to your cave,” said Pig, “and you've made her stay here for thirteen years. You should send her back now. We've come here to capture you on the king's orders, so you'd better hurry in and tie yourself up if you don't want me to hit you.” The old fiend was now furious. Just watch him as he gnashes his fangs of steel, glares so hard that his eyes become round with fury, raises his sword, and hacks at Pig's head. Pig avoided the blow and struck back at the monster's face with his rake, after which Friar Sand rushed forward to join in the fight with his staff. This battle on the mountain was not the same as the earlier one:

Saying the wrong things can make men angry;

Wicked intentions and hurt feelings give birth to wrath.

The great steel sword of the demon king

Sliced down at the head;

Pig's nine-toothed rake

Went for the face.

As Friar Sand let fly with his staff

The demon king parried with his magic weapon.

One wild ogre,

Two holy monks,

Moving to and fro with the greatest of calm.

One says,

“You deserve to die for your crime against the country.”

The other replies,

“Interfering fellow, trying to put the world to rights.”

“By seizing the princess you have insulted the state,” said the one.

“Just mind your own business,” said the other.

It was all because of the letter,

That the monks and the monster were now in combat.

When they had fought eight or nine bouts on the mountain side Pig was beginning to tire; his strength was flagging and he could only raise his rake with difficulty. Do you know why they could not hold out against the monster this time? In the first battle all the guardian gods had been helping Pig and Friar Sand as Sanzang was in the cave, so that they had then been a match for the ogre. This time the guardian gods were all looking after Sanzang in Elephantia, which was why Pig and Friar Sand could not hold out against the fiend.

“You come forward and fight him, Friar Sand,” said the idiot, “while I go off for a shit.” Then with no further thought for Friar Sand he streaked off into the undergrowth of grass, wild figs, thorns and creepers, diving straight in and not bothering about the scratches on his face. Then he fell into a doze, too frightened to come out again. He kept an ear cocked for the sound of clashing weapons.

Seeing Pig flee, the monster charged at Friar Sand, who could do nothing to stop the ogre from seizing him and carrying him into the cave. The junior fiends tied him up hand and foot. If you don't know what became of him, listen to the explanation in the next chapter.