Let us say no more for the moment of the Tang Elder and his misery. Instead we tell of those three fiend chiefs, who with one heart and all their strength contended with the Great Sage and his two brothers, striving with might and main within the half-mountain east of the city. This bout was truly a case of the iron brush scouring the copper pot: hard against hard in every house. A fine slaughter it was:
Six kinds of bodily form, six kinds of arm; six sorts of frame, six sorts of feeling.
Six evils, six roots begetting six desires; six gates, six paths, staking the win and the loss.
In the six-and-thirty palaces spring keeps its own season; six upon six, form and colour, hateful to have a name.
This one with the gold-banded cudgel, a thousand kinds of move;
that one with the square-heaven halberd, a hundred sorts of towering skill.
Bajie's muckrake fiercer still and stronger; the second fiend's long spear handsome and able too.
Little Sha Monk's precious staff no common thing, minded to strike men dead;
the old fiend chief's steel sabre quick and keen, lifting a hand without mercy.
These three are unbeatable champions guarding a true monk; those three are wild goblins wrecking the Law and cheating their king.
At the outset it was bearable; toward the end it grew fiercer.
All six used the art of rising into the void, and up in the cloudland each one tumbled and rolled.
In an instant, mist spat and cloud blown, heaven and earth went dark, and only the roaring and the howling could be heard.
The six of them fought a good long while, and gradually the day grew late. Then came wind and fog rolling everywhere, and in a moment it was pitch dark. Now Bajie has big ears, and they lay over his eyelids, so he was blinder than ever; and his hands and feet were slow, so he could not fend the blows off either. Dragging his rake, he broke and ran. The old fiend raised his sabre and hacked at him, and he came near to losing his life. Luckily he dodged with his head, though the edge of the blade sheared off several of his bristles. The fiend came up, opened his mouth, took him by the scruff, carried him into the city, threw him to the little demons, and had him bound in the Hall of the Golden Bells. Then the old monster mounted his cloud again and rose into mid-air to lend a hand. Sha Monk saw that things were going badly, made a feint with his precious staff, and looked to himself: he turned and fled. The second fiend swung his trunk open, gave one loud blast, and rolled him up, arms and all; he carried him into the city and likewise told the little demons to bind him below the hall. Then he soared aloft again to call for the capture of Pilgrim.
Pilgrim saw both his brothers taken and knew that his own strength alone would not hold out. Truly: a good hand is no match for two fists, and two fists are no match for four hands. He gave a shout, knocked the three fiends' weapons aside with his cudgel, somersaulted onto a cloud, and was gone. When the third fiend saw Pilgrim take to his somersault, he shook himself, showed his true shape, beat his two wings open, and came up with the Great Sage. You ask how he could possibly come up with him? In the old days when Pilgrim made havoc in Heaven, a hundred thousand celestial troops could not lay hold of him, and the reason was that he could ride the somersault cloud, which goes a hundred and eight thousand li at a single leap, so that none of the gods could catch him up. This monster went ninety thousand li at a single beat of his wings, and with two beats he had overtaken him. So he was caught in one grip and held in the fiend's hand, unable to wrench himself free to left or right. He thought of running, but there was no getting away. Even his arts of transformation and escape were of no use coming or going: when he made himself bigger, the fiend loosened his grip; and when he made himself smaller, the fiend gripped the tighter. He carried him straight back into the city, let go his hand, flung him down in the dust, and ordered the host of demons to bind him in one place along with Bajie and Sha Monk. The old fiend and the second fiend both came down to meet him, and the three chiefs went up together into the treasure hall. Alas! This time it was not so much a binding of Pilgrim as, plainly, a send-off for him.
By this time it was the second watch of the night. When the demons had all greeted one another they pushed the Tang Monk down from the hall. Before the lamplight the elder suddenly saw his three disciples all bound on the ground. The old master threw himself down at Pilgrim's side and wept, saying, “Disciple! In the ordinary way, when we met trouble, you were outside working your powers, going off to fetch rescue and subdue the fiend; but this time you are taken as well, and how is a poor monk like me to keep his life?” When Bajie and Sha Monk heard their master in such bitterness, they too all together lifted up their voices and wept. Pilgrim laughed a little and said, “Master, set your mind at rest; brothers, stop crying. Whatever they may do, we shall certainly come to no harm. Once that old fiend has quieted down, we shall be on our way.” Bajie said, “Brother! There you go talking nonsense again. We are tied with hempen rope, and when it slackens a little they even squirt water on it. I dare say a skinny fellow like you does not feel it, but a fat one like me is in real trouble. You don't believe me? Look at my two upper arms: it has gone two cùn into the flesh. How are we to get out of this?” Pilgrim laughed and said, “Never mind hempen rope; even if it were a coir hawser as thick as a bowl, it would still be no more than the autumn wind going past my ear. What is there in it to wonder at?”
While master and disciples were talking, they heard the old fiend say, “Third worthy brother, you have strength and you have cunning; your fine scheme has come off, and the Tang Monk is taken.” He called out, “Little ones! Have five of you draw water, seven scrub the pot, ten light the fire, and twenty carry out the iron steamer, and steam these four monks through, for my brothers and me to enjoy; and share out a piece each to the little ones as well, so that every one of them may have long life.” When Bajie heard it he said, all of a tremble, “Brother, listen! Those monsters are plotting to steam us and eat us!” Pilgrim said, “Don't be afraid. Let me see whether he is a fledgling demon or an old hand at it.” Sha Monk wept and said, “Brother! Don't talk so easily. We are next door to the King of Hell as it is. What is all this talk of fledglings and old hands?” Before he had finished, they heard the second fiend say, “Zhu Bajie is not easy to steam.” Bajie said in delight, “Amitabha Buddha! Which of you good souls said I am not easy to steam?” The third fiend said, “Not easy to steam — then skin him and steam him.” Bajie panicked and shouted at the top of his voice, “Don't skin me! Tough I may be, but once the water boils I shall soften up!” The old fiend said, “The one that is hard to steam — put him in the bottom tray.” Pilgrim laughed and said, “Don't be afraid, Bajie. He is a fledgling, not an old hand.” Sha Monk said, “How can you tell?” Pilgrim said, “As a rule, when you steam anything, it all starts from the top. Whatever is hard to steam you put in the top tray, build up the fire, and once the steam has come round it will do nicely; but if you put it at the bottom, the steam gets blocked, and you could burn the fire for half a year and it would still never come up. He says Bajie is hard to steam and puts him at the bottom — if that is not a fledgling, what is?” Bajie said, “Brother, by your account they are going to kill me by inches. The moment he sees the steam is not coming up he will lift the tray off, turn me over, build the fire up again, and have me done on both sides with the middle still raw!”
While they were still talking, a little demon came in to report, “The water has come to the boil.” The old fiend gave the order to lift them in. The demons all set to with a will: Bajie was lifted into the bottom tray and Sha Monk into the second. Pilgrim reckoned they were coming to lift him next, and slipped free, saying, “This lamplight is good for a bit of sleight of hand.” He pulled out a hair, blew a magic breath on it, and cried, “Change!” It turned at once into another Pilgrim, bound about with hempen rope. Sending his true self out of the body, he sprang up into mid-air and looked down to watch. How should that crowd of demons know true from false? They saw a man and lifted him, and put the false Pilgrim into the third tray up; and then they yanked the Tang Monk over, bound him upside down, and lifted him into the fourth tray. Dry firewood was stacked beneath, and the fierce flames went roaring up. From the cloudland the Great Sage sighed and said, “My Bajie and Sha Monk can stand two boilings yet; but for my master, one boiling would be enough to make him fall apart. If I do not use some art to save him, he will be gone in a moment.”
Excellent Pilgrim! Up in the air he made the magic sign, recited the spell that runs Om, the pure dharma-realm, Qian the origin, penetrating, advantageous, upright, and by summons brought the Dragon King of the North Sea there at once. At once a dark cloud appeared up in the cloudland, and a voice answered loudly, “The Little Dragon of the North Sea, Aoshun, makes his kowtow.” Pilgrim said, “Rise, rise. I would not make so bold as to trouble you without cause. Today I have come here with my Tang master, and he has been seized by poisonous fiends and put in an iron steamer to be cooked. Go and give me your protection there, and do not let them be steamed to harm.” The Dragon King at once changed himself into a gust of cold wind, blew in beneath the cauldron, and circled round it on guard, so that the fire had no heat left to work on the pot, and the three of them came to no harm.
Toward the end of the third watch they heard the old fiend give out his orders: “Men! We have worn ourselves out with scheming, and we have taken the Tang Monk and his three; and on top of that we are worn out with the escorting, and have not managed to sleep for four days and nights. They are tied in the steamer now, and can hardly be expected to get away. Keep careful watch, the rest of you; set ten little demons to tend the fire by turns, and let us withdraw to the palace and rest a little. By the fifth watch, when the sky is about to lighten, they will certainly have gone tender. Have garlic paste, salt and vinegar set out ready, and call us up to enjoy them on an empty stomach.” The demons all received their orders. And the three fiend chiefs went off, each to his own bedchamber.
Pilgrim, up in the cloudland, heard these orders given plain, and dropped his cloud lower; but he could hear no human sound out of the steamer. He thought to himself, “The heat goes upward, so it must be hot in there. How is it they are not afraid, and not a word or a groan out of them? Can they have been steamed to death? Let me go closer and listen again.” Excellent Great Sage! Treading his cloud, he shook himself and changed into a black fly, and as he settled on the outside of the iron steamer to listen, he heard Bajie inside saying, “Bad luck, bad luck! I do not know whether this is a stifled steaming or a vented one.” Sha Monk said, “Second brother, what do you mean by stifled and vented?” Bajie said, “Stifled steaming is with the lid on the steamer; vented steaming is without.” Tripitaka, floating in the tray above, answered, “Disciple, it is not covered.” Bajie said, “What luck! We shall not die tonight after all — this is the vented sort.” Pilgrim heard all three of them talking, and that they had come to no harm; so he flew across and very softly laid the lid on the iron steamer. Tripitaka panicked and said, “Disciple, it is covered!” Bajie said, “That does it. This is the stifled sort, and tonight we die for certain.” Sha Monk and the elder wept in thin little sobs. Bajie said, “Never mind crying. The fire crew has changed shift just now.” Sha Monk said, “How do you know that?” Bajie said, “When they first lifted us up here it suited me very well. I have a touch of the cold-and-damp trouble, and I wanted a good steaming for it. But this time cold air is coming up instead. Hey! Officer of the fire, what would it cost you to put on a bit more wood? Is it coming out of your pocket?”
Pilgrim heard it and could not help laughing to himself. “That idiot! Cold he can bear, but heat would be the death of him. Two more turns of that and he will certainly give the game away. I had better save them quickly. But wait. To save them I must show myself in my own shape. If I do show myself, these ten men tending the fire will see me and set up a shout together, and rouse the old fiend, and shall we not be in the same trouble all over again? Let me send them a little something first.” Then he remembered: “When I was Great Sage in the old days, I once played at guess-fingers with the Kingdom-Guarding Heavenly King at the North Gate of Heaven, and won his sleep-insects off him. I have some left. I shall let him have them.” He felt about in the pouch at his waist: there were still twelve of them. “I shall send him ten, and keep two back for seed.” He threw the insects out, and they scattered onto the faces of the ten little demons and bored into their nostrils, so that little by little they began to nod, and all of them dropped asleep. Only one, the man with the fire-fork, could not settle. He rubbed his head and scrubbed his face, pinched his nose left and right, and went on and on sneezing. Pilgrim said, “This fellow has caught on. I shall give him a double wick.” And he threw one more insect onto the man's face. “Two insects, in at the left and out at the right, out at the right and in at the left — one of them ought to lodge somewhere.” That little demon gave two or three great yawns, stretched his back, dropped his fire-fork, and went over asleep with a flop, and never turned again.
Pilgrim said, “That trick really is neat, and it works.” He resumed his own shape, went up close, and called, “Master.” The Tang Monk heard and said, “Wukong, save me!” Sha Monk said, “Brother, are you calling from outside?” Pilgrim said, “I am not outside — would I be in there taking punishment along with you?” Bajie said, “Brother! The nimble one slipped off, and we are all left holding the pot, taking the stifled steaming here.” Pilgrim laughed and said, “Idiot, stop bawling. I have come to save you.” Bajie said, “Brother! If you are going to save us, save us by the root — do not let us end up back in the steamer.” Pilgrim lifted the lid off the steamer, untied his master, gave the transformed hair a shake, and took it back into himself; then tray by tray he let out Sha Monk, and let out Bajie. The moment that idiot was untied he could not wait to run for it. Pilgrim said, “No hurry, no hurry.” Then he recited a spell and dismissed the dragon spirit, and only then said to Bajie, “On this road of ours to the Western Heaven there are still high hills and steep ranges. The master cannot walk it on his own feet, so let me go and fetch the horse.”
Watch him now, soft of hand and foot, going down to the Hall of the Golden Bells, where he found all the demons great and small fast asleep. He untied the halter without disturbing anything at all. Now that horse was a dragon-horse to begin with, and had a stranger come near he would have lashed out with both hooves and let out a whinny or two. But Pilgrim had kept horses in his day, and had held the office of Keeper of the Heavenly Stables, and was one of the household besides; so the horse neither kicked nor called out. Quietly he led it out, tightened the belly-band, got the gear all set, and asked his master to mount. The elder climbed up all of a tremble and made to be off at once. Pilgrim said, “Not so fast, either. There are kingdoms yet on our road west, and we shall need the passport before we can get through; otherwise, what warrant shall we show? Let me go back and look for the luggage.” The Tang Monk said, “I remember that when we came in, the demons put the luggage down on the left-hand side of the golden hall, and the carrying-pole was over that way too.” Pilgrim said, “I know where it is.” He turned and sprang up into the treasure hall to search, and suddenly saw a fluttering of bright light. Pilgrim knew it was the luggage. How did he know? Because there is a night-shining pearl on the Tang Monk's brocade cassock, and that is why it gave off light. He hurried up, found the pole-load with its seals unbroken, snatched it up at once, and handed it to Sha Monk to carry.
Bajie led the horse and Pilgrim led the way, and they made straight for the Gate of Correct Sunlight. But they heard the watchman's rattle and bell clattering away, and the gate had a lock on it, and over the lock a paper seal had been pasted. Pilgrim said, “With guarding like this, how are we to get out?” Bajie said, “Let us go out by the back gate.” Pilgrim led the way and made straight for the back gate; but outside the Rear-Steward Gate there was the sound of a rattle and bell as well, and the gate too had lock and seal. “Then what are we to do? This time, if it were not that the Tang Monk is a mortal body, the three of us could ride a cloud and work up a wind and be gone, no matter how they guarded it. It is only because the Tang Monk has not yet risen beyond the three realms, and is still within the five phases, and his whole body is the muddy bones of his parents, that he cannot mount into the air, and there is no getting away.” Bajie said, “Brother, no need to talk it over. Let us get to somewhere with no rattle and no guard, and hoist the master over the wall.” Pilgrim laughed and said, “That will not do. There is no help for it at the moment, so we hoist him over; but when we come back from fetching the scriptures, you blockhead, with your loose mouth, will go telling people all over the country that we are the monks who climbed walls.” Bajie said, “There is no attending to good conduct at a time like this. Let us just run for our lives.” Pilgrim could do nothing about it either, and had to fall in with him; so they went to a clear stretch of wall and reckoned on climbing out.
Alas! That such a thing should happen — but then Tripitaka had not yet escaped his star of calamity. The three fiend chiefs were asleep in the palace when they suddenly started awake, saying that the Tang Monk had got away; and every one of them threw on his clothes and got up in haste, and hurried up into the treasure hall. They asked, “How many boilings has the Tang Monk had?” Those little demons tending the fire had the sleep-insects in them by now and were fast asleep, and you might beat them and never hope to knock one awake. A few of the others, who had no duty on, were startled awake, and answered all in a fluster, “Seven — seven — seven — seven boilings!” They ran quickly over to the cauldron, and there were the steamer trays flung about on the ground, and the fire-tenders still all asleep. In a fluster they came back to report, “Great King — gone, gone, gone, they're gone!” The three fiend chiefs all came down from the hall, and when they looked carefully in front of the cauldron, sure enough there were the steamer trays flung about on the ground, the water in the cauldron stone cold, and not a trace of fire beneath. The fire-tenders were all snoring away like mud. In a fluster the whole crowd of demons raised a shout together, all crying, “Take the Tang Monk! Take the Tang Monk quickly!” This shout going up roused the whole lot of them, front and back, great and small, and they all came awake, and with swords and spears pressing close they came to the Gate of Correct Sunlight. They saw the seal and lock undisturbed and the rattle and bell going without a break. They asked the night patrol outside, “Which way did the Tang Monk get out?” They all said, “Nobody has come out at all.” They hurried on to the Rear-Steward Gate: seal, lock, rattle and bell, all exactly as at the front gate. Then with lanterns and torches snatched up in a jostling rush, scorching the sky red all over till it was like broad day, they saw the four of them plain as plain, climbing the wall. The old fiend came up close and shouted, “Where do you think you are going?” The elder was so frightened that his legs went soft and his sinews numb; he fell down off the wall, and was seized by the old fiend. The second fiend caught Sha Monk, the third fiend brought down Bajie, the demons snatched the luggage and the white horse — only Pilgrim got away. That Bajie went grumbling and muttering away in his mouth, complaining at Pilgrim: “Curse it! I said if you were going to save us, save us by the root — and now here we are back in the steamer again.”
The demons took the Tang Monk up into the hall, but they did not steam him. The second fiend gave orders to tie Bajie to the eaves-pillar in front of the hall, and the third fiend gave orders to tie Sha Monk to the eaves-pillar behind it; but the old fiend held on to the Tang Monk and would not let go. The third fiend said, “Elder brother, what are you holding on to him for? Surely you are not going to eat him alive? There would be no relish in that at all. This is not like your common ignorant fellow, that you can take and count as a meal; this is a rare thing out of a superior country, and we must wait for a cloudy day with time on our hands, and bring him out, and dress him properly and clean, and play at guess-fingers and pass the wine round, and eat him to soft music and fine playing — that is the way to do it.” The old fiend laughed and said, “Worthy brother, what you say is apt enough, but Sun the Pilgrim will be coming to steal him again.” The third fiend said, “Inside this palace of mine there is a Pavilion of Brocade Fragrance, and inside the pavilion there is an iron chest. Take my advice: hide the Tang Monk in the chest and shut up the pavilion; and put it about as a rumour that we have already eaten the Tang Monk raw, and have the little demons spread the word all over the city. That Pilgrim is bound to come and listen for news, and if he hears this, he will certainly go off with his heart quite dead in him. Wait three to five days till he stops making trouble, and then we bring him out and enjoy him at our leisure. What do you say?” The old monster and the second fiend were both delighted, and said, “Yes, yes, yes — our brother talks sense.” Poor Tang Monk! They carried him straight in that same night, hid him in the chest, and shut up the pavilion; and they put the rumour about, and the whole city was buzzing with it, and of that no more.
But we tell now of Pilgrim, who from midnight on could give no more thought to the Tang Monk, and rode a cloud away and escaped. He went straight to the Lion Camel Cave, and with one run of his cudgel cut down the ten thousand little demons there to the last of them. He hurried back, and the sun was up in the east. He came to the city wall, and dared not call them out to fight. Truly: a single thread makes no line, and one palm alone makes no sound. He came down off his cloud, shook himself and changed into a little demon, slipped in at the gate, and went through the main streets and the side lanes picking up news. All over the city they were saying that the Tang Monk had been eaten raw by the Great King in the night. Front and back, it was the same everywhere. Pilgrim was really sick at heart. He went on as far as the golden hall and looked about, and in there were a great many spirits, all of them wearing gilt-leather caps and yellow cloth gowns, with red lacquered staves in their hands and ivory tablets hanging at their waists, going to and fro and never still. Pilgrim thought to himself, “These must be the demons who go about the palace. Let me change into this shape and get in to listen about a bit.”
Excellent Great Sage! He changed so that there was nothing at all to choose between them, and mixed in through the golden gate. As he was walking along he saw Bajie tied to a pillar in front of the hall, groaning. Pilgrim went up close and called softly, “Wuneng.” That idiot knew the voice, and said, “Brother, you have come? Save me, save me!” Pilgrim said, “I will save you. Do you know where the master is?” Bajie said, “The master is gone. Last night the monsters ate him raw.” At these words Pilgrim lost his voice all at once, and his tears came like a welling spring. Bajie said, “Brother, do not cry. I only heard the little demons talking; I did not see it with my own eyes. Do not go wrong over it — go and ask about again.” This Pilgrim then dried his tears and went searching further inside. Suddenly he saw Sha Monk tied to a pillar under the back eaves, and went up close, laid a hand on his chest and called, “Wujing.” Sha Monk knew the voice too, and said, “Brother, have you changed shape and got in? Save me, save me!” Pilgrim said, “Saving you is easy enough. Do you know where the master is?” Sha Monk said through his tears, “Brother, the monsters could not even wait to steam him — they ate him raw.”
When the Great Sage heard the two of them say the same thing, his heart was as though stirred with knives, and his tears ran like water. He sprang up into the air at once, and without stopping to save Bajie and Sha Monk went back to the hill east of the city, brought his cloud down, and wept aloud, crying, “Master!
“I hate that I cheated Heaven and was caught in the net; you came, master, and saved me from that long sickness.
“With a hidden heart and a firm will we studied the Buddha together; with all our strength we disciplined ourselves and refined away the demons.
“Who would have thought that today I should meet with this poisoning, and could not keep you safe to reach the sala grove.
“The blessed land of the West I had no fate to reach; my breath is scattered and my soul gone, and what is to be done?”
Pilgrim, in the bitterest misery, turned it over in his own mind, asking his own heart with his heart: “This is all because that Buddha of ours, the Tathagata, sitting there in his Land of Utmost Bliss with nothing better to do, went and made up those Three Baskets of scripture. If he really meant to urge men to good, he ought by rights to have sent them east — would that not have been handed down for ever? But no, he could not bear to send them, and made us come and fetch them instead. How was he to know that after a thousand hills of hardship we should come to this today and lose a life? Enough, enough, enough! Old Sun will just ride a somersault cloud and go and see the Tathagata, and lay the whole business before him. If he is willing to let me carry the scriptures east, then first it will spread abroad the fruits of goodness, and second it will settle what we have wanted; but if he will not give them to me, then let him say the fillet-loosening spell and take this band off my head, and I will give it back to him, and old Sun will go home to his own cave, and style himself king and call himself the lonely one, and go off and amuse himself.”
Excellent Great Sage! He turned about at once, mounted the somersault cloud and made straight for India; it hardly took him an hour before he had the Spirit Mountain in sight, not far off. In a moment he brought his cloud down and came straight to the foot of Vulture Peak. He looked up suddenly, and there were the Four Great Vajra Guardians blocking the way. “Where do you think you are going?” Pilgrim made his bow and said, “I have business, and must see the Tathagata.” Then right in front of him the Vajra Ever-Abiding Indestructible Honoured King of Golden-Glow Ridge on Mount Kunlun shouted at him, “This ape is very rough and wild. Some time ago, when the Bull Demon had you hard pressed, we exerted ourselves for you; today you come to see us face to face and show no courtesy at all. If you have business, wait until it has been reported, and go in when you are summoned. This is not the same as the Southern Gate of Heaven, where you may go in and come out and wander about on both sides as you please. Bah! Stand aside there.” That Great Sage was in the depths of his misery already, and meeting this rebuff on top of it he grew so angry that he roared like a thunderclap, and could not hold in his shouting and bawling, so that the Tathagata was roused at once.
The Buddha Tathagata was sitting in state upon his ninefold jewelled lotus throne, expounding the scriptures to the eighteen Arhats who turn through the world, and he opened his mouth and said, “Sun Wukong is here. Go out, the rest of you, and receive him.” The assembly of Arhats obeyed the Buddha's instruction, and with pennons and canopies in two files came out of the mountain gate and answered aloud, “Great Sage Sun! The Tathagata has given orders that you be called in.” Only then did the Four Great Vajra Guardians at the mountain gate open a way and let Pilgrim go forward. The Arhats led him to the foot of the jewelled lotus throne, and seeing the Tathagata he threw himself down on his face in worship, weeping tears of grief. The Tathagata said, “Wukong, what is it that makes you weep so bitterly?” Pilgrim said, “Your disciple has again and again received the kindness of your teaching, and has taken shelter under the Buddha-father's gate. Since I turned to the true fruit and guarded the Tang Monk, taking him as my master and teacher, the road has been hard past all telling. Now we have come to Lion Camel Mountain, the Lion Camel Cave and the Lion Camel City, where there are three poisonous fiends, namely the Lion King, the Elephant King and the Roc, and they carried my master off, and your disciple with him, all bound in a steamer and given over to fire and boiling water. By good fortune your disciple escaped, and called on the Dragon King to save them from it. That night I stole my master and the others out, but the star of calamity was not to be escaped, and they were taken again. And when day came I went into the city to make enquiries, and those hateful fiends are so venomous and so fierce in every way that they ate my master raw in the night, and now not a bone or a scrap of him is left. And besides, my fellow disciples Wuneng and Wujing are tied up over there, and before long their lives too will be gone. Your disciple is at his wits' end, and has come all this way on purpose to bow before the Tathagata. I beg your great mercy: say the fillet-loosening spell, take this band off my head, give it back to the Tathagata, and let your disciple go home to Flower-Fruit Mountain and amuse himself at his ease.” Before he had finished, his tears came like a welling spring and his weeping would not stop. The Tathagata laughed and said, “Wukong, do not fret so much. That monster's powers are very great; you cannot beat him, and that is why your heart aches so.” Pilgrim knelt down below and beat his breast, saying, “I will not hide it from the Tathagata: in the year when your disciple made havoc in Heaven and was styled Great Sage, from the time I became a person I had never once come off worse — and this time I have fallen into the hands of these poisonous fiends.”
When the Tathagata heard this he said, “Do not go on hating so. That monster — I know him.” Pilgrim blurted out, “Tathagata! I have heard people say that that monster is a relation of yours.” The Tathagata said, “You artful ape! How should a monster be a relation of mine?” Pilgrim laughed and said, “If he is no relation of yours, how do you know him?” The Tathagata said, “I look on him with the eye of wisdom, and so I know him. That old fiend and the second fiend have masters.” He called, “Ananda! Kasyapa! Come here. You two are to take cloud each his own way, to Mount Wutai and to Mount Emei, and summon Manjushri and Samantabhadra to appear.” The two Honoured Ones went at once as they were bidden. The Tathagata said, “Those are the masters of the old fiend and the second fiend. But as for that third fiend — now that we come to speak of it, there is some kinship there with me as well.” Pilgrim said, “Related on the father's side, or the mother's?” The Tathagata said, “From the time when that primal chaos divided, Heaven opened at zi, Earth was set apart at chou, and Man was born at yin. Heaven and Earth joined again, and the ten thousand things were all born. Among the ten thousand things there are beasts that walk and birds that fly. Among the walking beasts the qilin is chief, and among the flying birds the phoenix is chief. That phoenix in turn received the breath of coupling, and bore the peacock and the roc. When the peacock came into the world she was the most vicious of creatures, and could eat people: at a distance of forty-five li she would draw a man in at a single breath. I was on the summit of the Snow Mountain, and had perfected the golden body of sixteen chi, when she drew me down into her belly too. I wished to go out by her back passage, but feared to defile my true body. So I cut open her spine and climbed out onto the Spirit Mountain. I would have taken her life, but the assembled Buddhas dissuaded me: to harm the peacock, they said, would be to harm my own mother. So I kept her at the assembly on the Spirit Mountain, and gave her the title of Bodhisattva Mahamayuri, Buddha-Mother and Peacock King of Great Illumination. The roc was born of the same mother as she, and so there is some kinship there.” Pilgrim heard this and laughed. “Tathagata! If we are to reckon it that way, then you are the monster's nephew.” The Tathagata said, “That monster is one I must go to myself, if he is to be taken at all.” Pilgrim bowed his head to the ground and addressed the Tathagata: “I beg you a thousand times, move your jade person and come down.”
The Tathagata came down at once from his lotus seat, and with all the Buddhas and the assembly went straight out of the mountain gate. And there were Ananda and Kasyapa bringing Manjushri and Samantabhadra to appear, and the two Bodhisattvas made their reverence to the Buddha. The Tathagata said, “Bodhisattvas, how long is it since your beasts came down the mountain?” Manjushri said, “Seven days.” The Tathagata said, “Seven days in the mountains is several thousand years in the world. There is no knowing how many living creatures they have destroyed over there. Come quickly with me and take them back.” The two Bodhisattvas went along on either side, and the whole company flew up into the air. And this was the sight:
Filling the sky, faint and far, the auspicious clouds divide; our Buddha in his mercy sends the dharma-gate down.
Plainly he shows the principle by which Heaven opened and things were born; in fine words he sets out the writing by which Earth was parted and bodies transformed.
Before him, five hundred Arhats; behind his head, three thousand Jieti gods.
Kasyapa and Ananda at his left and right; the Bodhisattvas Samantabhadra and Manjushri wiping out the demon vapours.
The Great Sage had this favour of them, and got the Buddha-Patriarch and his company to come; and in no long time the city walls came in sight. Pilgrim reported, “Tathagata, that place giving off the black vapour is the Kingdom of Lion Camel.” The Tathagata said, “You go down first, and give battle to the monsters in that city. You may lose, but you may not win. Come up beaten, and I will take them myself.”
The Great Sage brought his cloud down at once, went straight to the city wall, and standing with a foot on the battlements cursed them: “You filthy beasts! Come out quickly and fight old Sun!” In a fluster the little demons on the city tower jumped down into the city to report: “Great King! Sun the Pilgrim is on the wall challenging us to battle.” The old monster said, “This monkey has not come for two or three days, and today here he is challenging us again. Can it be that he has fetched some rescuers?” The third fiend said, “What is there to fear from him? Let us all go and have a look.” The three fiend chiefs each took his weapon and came up onto the wall; and seeing Pilgrim, without a word between them, they raised their weapons and stabbed at him all together; and Pilgrim swung up his iron cudgel and met them hand to hand. When they had fought seven or eight bouts, Pilgrim made a show of losing and ran. The monster kings raised a great shout and cried, “Where do you think you are going?” The Great Sage went up with a single somersault and sprang into mid-air; and the three spirits rode their clouds after him. Pilgrim gave his body a twist and hid in the shadow of the Buddha-father's golden light, so that he was not to be seen at all. And there were the three Buddha images of past, future and present, with five hundred Arhats and three thousand Jieti gods, spread out to left and right, hemming the three monster kings in so that not a drop could leak through. The old fiend was thrown into confusion, and cried, “Brothers! This is bad. That monkey really is a local devil — wherever has he fetched a master out of?” The third fiend said, “Elder brother, do not be frightened. Let us go forward together and knock the Tathagata down with spear and sabre, and take that Thunderclap Monastery of his.” This fiend chief knew nothing of rise or fall, and did in fact lift his sabre and go forward hacking. But Manjushri and Samantabhadra recited their true words and shouted, “Will you not turn to the right way, you cursed beast? What are you waiting for?” The old fiend and the second fiend were so frightened that they dared not hold out; they threw down their weapons, rolled over, and showed their own shapes. The two Bodhisattvas flung their lotus seats onto the creatures' backs, sprang up and sat astride, and the two fiends submitted with their ears laid flat.
The two Bodhisattvas having taken back the blue lion and the white elephant, there remained only that third monster, who would not submit. He spread his wings, threw down his square-heaven halberd, soared straight up on the wind, and swung his sharp talons to snatch the Monkey King. But the Great Sage was hidden in the light, and how was he to get near? The Tathagata knew well enough what was in his mind, and flashed his golden light, and gave that head of his, the one the magpies nested through, a shake in the wind, so that it turned into a lump of fresh red flesh. The monster swung his sharp talons and snatched at it. The Buddha-father pointed a hand upward, and the sinews in that monster's wing joints seized, so that he could not fly away, and could get no distance from the Buddha's crown; and he showed his own shape, which was a great golden-winged roc. He opened his mouth and answered the Buddha aloud, “Tathagata! Why do you use your great power of the Law to hold me fast?” The Tathagata said, “You have made much bad karma in this place. Come with me, and there will be merit gained in it.” The monster said, “In your place you keep the fast and hold to vegetables, the poorest and hardest of lives; here I eat human flesh, and there is no end to my enjoyment. If you starve me to death, the sin will be on you.” The Tathagata said, “I have charge of the four great continents, and countless living beings look up to me. Whenever they do a good work, I shall have them make an offering to your mouth first.” That roc wanted to get free and could not, wanted to run and had no way to run; and so, having no help for it, he had to take refuge in the right way.
Only then did Pilgrim come out, and bowing his head to the Tathagata he said, “Buddha-father, you have taken the monsters now and rid the world of a great harm — only my master is gone.” The roc ground his teeth and said in his hatred, “You villainous monkey-head! Going and finding vicious people like this to trap me. When did anybody ever eat that old monk of yours? Is he not this moment in the iron chest in the Pavilion of Brocade Fragrance?” When Pilgrim heard this he bowed his head at once and thanked the Buddha-Patriarch. The Buddha-Patriarch dared not let the roc go free, and could only set him on the radiance as a guardian of the Law; and leading the assembly back on their clouds he went straight home to his monastery.
Pilgrim brought his cloud down and went straight into the city, and in that city there was not one little demon left. Truly: a snake without a head will not go, and a bird without wings will not fly. They had seen the Buddha-Patriarch take their monster kings, and had each fled for his life. Pilgrim then freed Bajie and Sha Monk, found the luggage and the horse, and said to the two of them, “The master was never eaten. Come along with me, both of you.” He led the two of them straight into the inner court, found the Pavilion of Brocade Fragrance, opened the door and looked, and inside was an iron chest, and out of it came the sound of Tripitaka weeping. Sha Monk used his demon-subduing staff to break the iron lock, lifted the lid of the chest, and called, “Master!” Tripitaka saw them and wept aloud, saying, “Disciples! However did you subdue those fiends? And however did you get here and find me?” Pilgrim told over the whole business from beginning to end, in full. Tripitaka thanked him past all thanking. Master and disciples found some grain in that palace, got tea and food ready, ate their fill at one meal, packed up and left the city, and took the great road running west. Truly:
The true scripture must obtain a true man to fetch it; clamour of intent and toil of heart are all in vain.
And as they went on this way, there is no knowing how long it would be before they came face to face with the Tathagata. Listen to the explanation in the next chapter.