But when, O when, will I find my rest?”
When Monkey heard this he chuckled and said, “You'll have no difficulty in that. When you've completed your mission all your destinies will be over and all your dharmas will be empty, so of course you'll be able to rest then.” This cheered up Sanzang, who gave his dragon-horse the rein and urged it forward. As they climbed the mountain they found it truly craggy and precipitous.
Towering peaks,
Tapering pinnacles.
Down in the deep and winding stream,
Beside the solitary cliff.
Down in the deep and winding stream,
You can hear the serpents playing and splashing in the water;
Beside the solitary cliff,
Amid the trees on the precipice, tigers whisk their tails.
Look up,
And the blue sky is high above the peaks;
Turn round,
And the heavens join the deeps in the valley.
Climbing it
Is like ascending a ladder;
Descending
Is like going into a pit.
This is indeed a weird and craggy ridge,
A wall of tapering cliffs.
On the craggy ridge,
The medicine-gatherer moves in fear;
On the sheer rock-face
The firewood-collector cannot take a step.
Wild goats and horses all run free
And many are the hares and mountain oxen.
The mountain is so high it blots out sun and stars;
One often meets evil monsters and gray wolves.
The path is hard to follow and difficult for the horse:
How will they ever see the Buddha at the Thunder Monastery?
As Sanzang reined in his horse to look at the mountain he saw that they had reached a most difficult spot. There was a wood-gatherer standing on the green, grassy slope, and this was what he looked like:
On his head a battered blue felt hat,
On his body a black woolen tunic.
The battered felt hat
That kept off sun and cloud was a strange sight;
In his black woolen tunic
He was amazingly happy and carefree.
The steel axe in his hand had been sharpened till it shone;
He cut dry wood and made it into bundles.
Spring hung from his carrying-pole,
And he was happy throughout the four seasons.
His appearance was relaxed,
And his mind free from anxiety.
He had accepted his lot throughout his life;
Fame and disgrace never bothered him on this mountain.
The wood-gatherer
Was cutting down dead wood upon the slope
When he saw the monk approaching from the East.
Giving his axe a rest, he came out of the tress,
And, climbing fast, soon scaled the rock-face.
“Stop here for a moment on your journey West,” he shouted. “I must warn you that there is a pack of vicious ogres and fierce wolves on this mountain. They eat travelers from the East who are heading West.”
The news terrified Sanzang out of his wits. Trembling in the saddle, he turned round sharply and called for his disciples.
“Did you hear what the woodman said?” he asked. “There are ogres and wolves on this mountain. Do any of you dare ask him for more details?”
“Don't worry, Master,” said Monkey, “I'll find out from him.”
Brother Monkey hurried up the mountain, and addressing the woodman as “Elder Brother” he asked all about it. “Why have you come here, venerable sir?” asked the woodman, returning his greeting.
“To tell you the truth, elder brother,” said Monkey, “We have come from the East and are heading West to fetch the scriptures. That's my master on the horse. He's a bit timid, so when you told him about the ogres and wolves he sent me to ask you about them. How long have they been here? Are they experts or just beginners? Please tell me about them. Then I can make the gods of the mountain and the local deities march them off.”
At this the woodman threw back his head and roared with laughter. “You really are a mad monk,” he said.
“I'm not mad,” replied Monkey, “I'm talking sense.”
“If you're talking sense,” said the woodman, “then how can you say you'll have them marched off?”
“You must be related to them,” said Monkey, “putting on those airs and blocking our way to talk that nonsense to us. If you're not related to them you're either a neighbour or a friend of theirs.”
“This is too much, mad monk,” said the woodcutter with another laugh. “The warning I've come specially to give you is meant well. I tell you to be on your guard all the time as you travel along, but you're holding me responsible for all those demons. Never mind whether I happen to know what these demons do. How could you possibly have them marched off even if I did know. Where would you send them?”
“If they were sky monsters,” replied Monkey, “I'd send them to the Jade Emperor, and if they were earth monsters I'd send them to the Earth Palace. Western ones would go to die Buddha and Eastern ones to the Sage. I'd send Northerners to the True Martial God of the North and Southerners to the Fire God. Dragon spirits would go to the Lord of the Seas and demons to King Yama. They all have somewhere to go. I know the people in all those places, so I'd only need to write out an order for the monsters to be sent there at the double the very same night.”
“You mad monk,” said the woodcutter with a mocking laugh, “you may have traveled in the clouds and learned a little magic, but even if you can expel evil spirits and bind demons you've never come up against such vicious fiends.”
“What's so vicious about them?” asked Monkey.
“This mountain is about two hundred miles across,” said the woodcutter, “and it's called Flat-top Mountain. There is a cave in it called the Lotus Flower Cave where two devil chieftains live. They are so determined to capture monks that they've drawn pictures of them and found out the name of the man they want to eat-the Tang Priest. You'll be all right provided you come from anywhere but Tang. But if you're from there, don't carry on.”
“The land of Tang,” replied Monkey, “is precisely where we're from.”
“Then they'll eat you,” said the woodcutter.
“We're in luck,” said Monkey, “we're in luck. The only thing is that I don't know how they're going to eat us.”
“How do you want them to eat you?” the woodcutter asked.
“If they eat my head first,” said Monkey, “that will be fine. But if they start with my feet, I'll suffer.”
“What difference does it make whether they start with your head or feet?” the woodcutter asked.
“You have no experience of it,” said Monkey. “If they start with my head, they'll have it off with one bite and I'll be dead. Whether they fry me, saute me, or stew me I won't feel the slightest pain. But if they start from my feet they can chew my ankles, crunch up my legs, and eat their way up to my waist with me still alive and in agony. It would be going through torment in small installments. That's why I'd suffer.”
“They've been there for a long time, monk,” said the woodcutter, “and the moment they get you they'll tie you up, pop you in the steamer, and eat you whole.”
“Even better,” said Monkey with a grin, “even better. That won't be at all painful; it'll just be a bit hot and close.”
“This is nothing to joke about, monk,” said the woodcutter. “Those monsters have five treasures that they carry about with them, and their magic powers are enormous. Even if you're one of the jade pillars of the heavens or one of the golden beams that support the sea you may well have to pass out in order to get the Tang Priest through.”
“How often?” Monkey asked.
“Three or four times,” replied the woodcutter.