Monkey (49 page)

W
HEN
day came, the people again began to pour in with offerings of fruit and other dainties. To their astonishment the pilgrims had vanished. After hunting high and low till they could think of nowhere else to look they gave up all hope, and cried to the Joiner of Days, ‘Fie upon you, Limpid One! Why have you taken our Living Buddha away?’ There was nothing for it but to lay the viands they had brought upon the altar of the shrine, where they burned paper slips and prayed for the acceptance of the offerings. Ever afterwards, four times a year, they performed a grand ceremony and twice a month a lesser ceremony at this shrine. And apart from this, at every hour of every day there would always be worshippers there, praying for recovery from illness or protection on a journey, praying for chattels or children.

Meanwhile it took less than a day for this second gale of magic wind to blow the pilgrims back to China, and soon they began to see the towers of Ch’ang-an. It was three days before the full moon of the ninth month in the thirteenth year of the period Cheng Kuan, that the Emperor escorted Tripitaka to the outskirts of the city. In the sixteenth year he ordered a pagoda to be built outside the western gates, called the Scripture Look-out Tower, and every year he visited it in person. It so happened that he was visiting the pagoda on the day when the pilgrims arrived. Looking out, he suddenly saw the whole western sky fill with a magic radiance; a moment later he noticed a strange perfume in the breeze.

‘Well, here we are at Ch’ang-an,’ cried the eight Vajrapanis, coming to a halt in mid-air. ‘We would rather not alight, as the people in these parts are very tricky, and if they caught sight of us might make our presence known in undesirable quarters. There is also no reason for the three disciples to go down. But you, Master, had better go at once and hand over the scriptures, and then come back here. We’ll wait for you in mid-air, and then we will all go back and report in Paradise.’

‘That’s all very well,’ said Monkey. ‘But how is the Master to carry the scriptures, and who is to lead his horse ? We had much better go with him, while you wait here. You may be sure we shan’t get in his way.’

“The Bodhisattva promised Buddha that the whole business should only take eight days,’ said the Vajrapanis. ‘If you all go, we shall have Pigsy touting round for offerings, and get behind time.’

‘You lousy old ruffians,’ cried Pigsy, ‘why should you think that I shall waste time touting round here? I am as anxious as anyone to get back to Paradise. The Master has become a Buddha, and I intend to become a Buddha too. You wait here, and the minute we have handed in the scriptures I’ll come back with you and be canonized.’

So Pigsy carrying the pack, Sandy leading the horse and Monkey accompanying Tripitaka, they alighted at the side of the pagoda. The Emperor and his ministers at once came down to meet them. ‘So my dear brother has come at last!’ he cried. Tripitaka bowed low. ‘And who are these?’ asked the Emperor.

‘They are disciples I picked up on the road,’ said Tripitaka.

‘Saddle one of my chariot-horses,’ said the Emperor to his servants, ‘and my brother shall ride back with me to the Court.’

By the time they reached Ch’ang-an there was not a soul in the city who had not heard that the scripture-seekers had arrived. It was noticed by the priests in Tripitaka’s old temple that a pine-tree in the courtyard was bent towards the east.

‘This is very strange,’ they said. ‘There was no wind to speak of in the night. How comes it that the top of this tree is bent down?’

Among them was one of Tripitaka’s old disciples. ‘Go and get your cloaks at once,’ he cried. ‘The Master has come home with the scriptures.’

‘How do you know ?’ they asked.

‘He told us when he went away,’ said he, ‘that he might be absent for three, five, even seven years. But that if we saw the top of this pine tree bent towards the east, it would
mean that he was coming back. Sooner would Buddha himself speak falsely than a lie escape my Master’s lips. I know that he is here.’

The priests hurriedly put on their cloaks and went out. They had not gone far before someone called to them, ‘Have you heard the news? The scripture-seekers have just arrived and the Emperor himself met them and brought them back into the city.’ Hearing this they hurried faster than ever and were just in time to meet the procession. They dared not approach too close, but followed the Imperial party till it reached the gates of the palace. When the pilgrims reached the Audience Hall the Emperor seated Tripitaka by his side, and ordered the scriptures to be brought in. Monkey and the rest delivered them to the chamberlains, who in turn laid them before the Emperor. ‘How many scrolls are there,’ he asked,’ and how were they given to you ?’

Tripitaka described his arrival at the Holy Mountain, the trick played by Ananda and Kasyapa, and how he had in the end obtained written copies by parting with the begging-bowl given to him by his Majesty. ‘As to the number of scrolls,’ he said, ‘there are five thousand and forty-eight, some chosen from each of the thirty-five sections.’

The Emperor was delighted, and ordered the Entertainment Board to prepare a banquet of welcome in the eastern tower. Suddenly his eye fell on the three disciples who were waiting at the far end of the Hall. Their appearance struck him as very unusual.

‘I suppose these gentlemen are foreigners ?’ he said.

‘My eldest disciple, named Monkey,’ said Tripitaka, ‘comes from the Water Curtain Cave, on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit. Five hundred years ago he made trouble in Heaven and Buddha imprisoned him in a stone chest under the Mountain of the Two Frontiers. But he was converted by the Bodhisattva Kuan-yin, and on my way to India I was able to release him and take him with me as my disciple. His protection stood me in good stead, and had it not been for him I could never have fulfilled my mission. My second disciple, Pigsy, came from the Cloud Ladder Cave on Mount Fu-ling. He was haunting Mr Kao’s farm when I came that
way and picked him up. He has carried the luggage throughout our journey and also proved very useful when rivers had to be crossed. My third disciple, Sandy, comes from the River of Flowing Sands. He too was converted by Kuan-yin and was received into the Order. The horse is not the one that you bestowed upon me.’

‘Indeed?’ said the Emperor. ‘Its coat looks very similar. How came you to change horses ?’

‘When we were crossing the Falcon Grief Torrent,’ said Tripitaka, ‘the original horse was swallowed by this one. But Monkey went to Kuan-yin and inquired about the origins of this horse. It appears that it was a son of the Dragon King of the Western Ocean, but got into trouble and would have been executed, had not the Bodhisattva intervened and appointed it to be my steed. It was then that it changed into a horse with a coat exactly like that of my original mount. It has carried me faithfully over the most difficult crags and passes. On the way there, I rode on its back; on the way home it carried the scriptures. So that in one way and another we are much beholden to it.’

‘You have been very well served,’ said the Emperor. ‘It would interest me to know exactly how far it is to India.’

‘I remember,’ said Tripitaka, ‘that the Bodhisattva spoke of the distance as being a hundred and eight thousand leagues. We kept no exact count. But I know that summer turned to winter fourteen times, and that there was no day upon which we did not cross some range of hills. Often we had to make our way through vast forests or across huge rivers. As for the kingdoms through which we passed, you will find the seals of each one of them stamped upon our passports.’

Then he called to his disciples to bring the passports for the Emperor’s inspection. Seeing that they were marked as having been issued three days before the full moon of the ninth month of the thirteenth year of Cheng Kuan, the Emperor smiled. ‘It has been a long job,’ he said. ‘It is now the twenty-seventh year!’ Then he looked at the seals. There was the seal of the country of Crow-cock, the seal of the Cart Slow country, and many others. And finally, the seal of the
Golden Treasury of Paradise. Having examined the passports, he handed them back. Just then an official announced that the banquet was ready, and taking Tripitaka by the hand, the Emperor led him down the Hall.

‘Are your disciples familiar with Court Etiquette?’ he asked.

‘I am afraid not,’ said Tripitaka. ‘They have spent their time in uncouth and deeply rural surroundings. I fear they have no inkling of what the etiquette of the Chinese Court demands. I must ask your Majesty to be lenient towards them.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said the Emperor. ‘I shan’t blame them. Tell them all to come along to the banquet.’

The pilgrims found themselves, along with all the officials civil and military, grouped on either side of the Imperial Seat. There was dancing and singing, and the music of flutes and drums. The whole entertainment was on the most magnificent scale, and it was indeed a happy day.

When evening came the guests expressed their thanks and withdrew. The Emperor betook himself to the women’s apartments, and the officials to their residences. The pilgrims went to Tripitaka’s old temple, where they were welcomed by kow-towing priests. ‘Master,’ they said, ‘this tree this morning suddenly bent towards the east. We remembered what you told us, and went out to meet you.’ Inside the temple, Pigsy did not shout for more food or create any disturbance. Monkey and Sandy behaved with perfect decorum. For all three were now Illumined, and it cost them no pains to stay quiet. When night came, they all went to sleep.

Early next morning, the Emperor said to his ministers at Court, ‘All night long I could not sleep, so full were my thoughts of the magnitude of my brother’s achievements, and the impossibility of making any adequate recompense. I ended by composing in my head a few clumsy sentences, which I hope may make him aware of my gratitude. I have not yet written them down.’ Then he called for one of the Imperial Secretaries and said, ‘I want to dictate something to you. Please take it down very accurately.’ What the Emperor dictated is known to all, for it was the ‘Introduction to
Buddha’s  Holy  Teachings’,
^*
which  still  figures  in  the
‘
Canon’.
^†

When he had finished dictating, he sent for Tripitaka. ‘Your Majesty’s style,’ said Tripitaka, ‘is very lofty and archaic, and your reasoning is subtle and profound. I notice, however, that there is no title at the head of your essay.’

‘I made it up in my head during the night, as a token of gratitude to my reverend brother,’ said the Emperor. ‘How would it be if I called it “Introduction to Buddha’s Holy Teachings”?’

Tripitaka kow-towed his assent.

‘My talent,’ the Emperor continued, ‘pales before the wisdom that is inscribed on tablets of jade, my words are put to shame by the maxims that are incised on bronze and stone. As to the Esoteric Texts, my ignorance of them is alas profound. This, remember, is an essay composed in my head, and necessarily rough and clumsy. It is, I fear, not worth your notice and you have no need to thank me.’ The officials who were present all congratulated the Emperor on the felicity of his improvised composition, and recommended that it should be circulated everywhere, both at Court and beyond.

‘Won’t you read to us out of the scriptures?’ said the Emperor to Tripitaka.

‘Your Majesty,’ said he, ‘this is no place to recite holy writ. The scriptures may only be read in a place dedicated to religion.’

‘Which is the holiest of all the shrines in Ch’ang-an?’ the Emperor asked, turning to those about him.

‘Holiest of all is the Wild Goose Pagoda,’ said the Grand Preceptor Hsiao Yii.

‘Take a few chapters from each of the main Scriptures,’ said the Emperor, ‘and reverently transport them to the Wild Goose Pagoda. Then we’ll get my holy brother to read them out to us.’

The selection was made and they all went off to the pagoda,
•where a platform was erected and everything made ready for the recitation.

Tripitaka told Pigsy and Sandy to hold the dragon horse and mind the baggage, and Monkey to be ready to hand the scrolls to him.

‘Your Majesty,’ remarked Tripitaka, ‘will have to have copies of these scriptures made, if you want to promulgate them throughout your Empire. The originals are far too precious to be bandied about!’

‘That’s perfectly true,’ said the Emperor.

And he gave orders that scribes of the Han-lin Academy should make copies of the scriptures. These were distributed through a special agency set up to the east of the city, called the Temple of Transcription.

Tripitaka had already gone up on to the platform with a number of scrolls, and was just going to begin his recitation, when the familiar gust of perfumed wind reached his nostrils, and the eight Vajrapanis appeared in mid-air, saying, ‘Re-citants, leave your scriptures and follow us to the west.’ Immediately Monkey and the others, including the white horse, began to rise from the ground. Tripitaka laid down his scroll and rose above the platform straight up into the Ninth Heaven. In utter amazement the Emperor and his ministers did homage to them as they receded. Soon afterwards a great Mass was held at the Wild Goose Pagoda, the True Scriptures of the great Vehicle were for the first time seen and recited, and multitudes of lost souls were saved from darkness. Moreover, through the labours of the Temple of Transcription their blessing became universal.

Meanwhile the four pilgrims and the white horse were carried back to Paradise by the eight Vajrapanis, and counting up the time taken by their going and coming, it proved that the whole journey had barely taken the eight stipulated days. It happened that when they arrived, all the deities of the Holy Mountain were assembled before Buddha, to receive his instructions. ‘We beg to state that the pilgrims have been to Ch’ang-an, as commanded, have handed over the scriptures and have now returned to report,’ said the Vajrapanis. They
then motioned to Tripitaka and the rest to come forward and receive their heavenly rank.