“Let's find the master,” said Monkey.
The three of them went right to the back of the cave, where they found their master tied up stark naked and weeping in the rear courtyard. Friar Sand untied him while Monkey fetched his clothes to dress him. The three of them then knelt before him and said, “Master, you have suffered terribly.”
Sanzang thanked them and said, “Dear disciples, I have put you to great trouble. How was the demon subdued?” Monkey then told him how the Bodhisattva had been asked to come and had taken the boy as her page. (This is what people refer to nowadays when they talk about the page boy submitting to the Bodhisattva, and respecting her as his fifty-third teacher after visiting the Buddha on three occasions.)
Monkey told Friar Sand to collect all the valuables in the cave then find some rice to prepare a vegetarian meal for the master. The venerable elder owed his life entirely to the Great Sage Sun; and it was on the Handsome Monkey Spirit that he depended to fetch the scriptures. Master and disciples then left the cave. The horse was saddled up, and once they found the main trail they headed West with wholehearted determination.
One day when they had been travelling for over a month Sanzang heard the sound of a river. “Disciple,” said Sanzang in great alarm, “what river is that?”
“You're much too much of a worrier, old Master,” laughed Monkey “ever to become a priest. Why should you alone among the four of us hear water? Have you forgotten your Heart Sutra?”
“I was taught the fifty-four sentences and 270 words of that sutra on Pagoda Mountain by the Rook's Nest Hermit in person,” replied Sanzang. “I learned them by ear and I constantly repeat them to myself. Which sentence of it have I forgotten?”
“Master,” said Brother Monkey, “you've forgotten the sentence, 'There is no sight, no sound, no smell, no taste, no touch and no mental process.' We men of religion should not look on beauty, hear music, smell sweet fragrances, or taste good flavors. We should not even notice whether we are hot or cold, and our minds should be free from delusion. This is the way to repel the Six Bandits that attack eye, ear, nose, tongue, body and mind. Because of your mission to fetch the scriptures you are constantly worrying. You are afraid of evil monsters because you cling to your body. When you ask for vegetarian food your tongue is moved. If you enjoy a pleasant aroma it stimulates your nose. Sounds startle your ears. By looking at things you fasten your eyes on them. If you will keep on inviting the Six Bandits in over and over again how can you ever expect to reach the Western Heaven and see the Buddha?”
At this Sanzang fell into deep and silent thought for a while, then said, “Disciple,
When many years ago from my emperor I was parted,
On endless days and nights of travelling I started.
In the mists upon the mountains my grass sandal were worn through;
Many ridges have I climbed in my rain-hat of bamboo.
How often have I sighed when the gibbons call at night?
I cannot bear to listen to birds chirping in the moonlight.
When will I achieve the three Samadhis, I implore,
And obtain the Tathagata's most wonderful Law?”
When he had heard this Monkey could not help clapping his hands and laughing aloud. “Master,” he said, “you're suffering terribly from homesickness. If you really want to achieve the three Samadhis it isn't all difficult. As the saying goes, 'At the right time the achievement completes itself.'”
“Brother,” said Pig, looking back to him, “if we keep on coming up against such terrible demons we'll never succeed in a thousand years.”
“Brother Pig,” said Friar Sand, “you're as coarse-tongued as I am. Stop irritating Monkey: he might lose his temper. Just keep on carrying your load and one day we'll finally succeed.”
They walked on as they talked, and the horse's hoofs never rested until they came to a great black river stretching as far as the eye could see. When the four of them stood on the bank to take a close look they saw
Wave upon turbid wave,
Eddies and muddy whirls.
Wave upon turbid wave churns up the dark waters,
Eddies and muddy whirls looking like grease.
From close up it does not reflect the human image;
For far around not a tree can be seen.
Rolling ink,
Seething ash.
Bubbles that rise are charcoal;
The flying foam is like shoveled coal-dust.
Cattle and sheep will not drink,
Magpie and crow avoid it.
Cattle and sheep will not drink its blackness;
Magpie and crow avoid its vast expanse.
Only the reeds by the bank grow as they should,
While the flowers and grass by the sandbank flourish green.
The world is full of rivers and lakes,
And many are its streams and marshes and springs,
But of all the places that people have seen in life,
The Black River of the West is not among them.
“Disciples,” asked Sanzang as he dismounted, “why is this river so dark and turbid?”
“Someone's washed out an indigo dyeing-vat in it,” said Pig. “No,” said Friar Sand, “somebody's been cleaning their inkstone in it.”
“Stop making silly guesses, you two,” said Monkey, “and let's work out how we're going to get the master across.”
“I'd have no problem crossing that river,” said Pig. “I could ride a cloud or swim and be over it before you'd had time to eat a meal.”
“And I could be across in an instant on a cloud or by walking on the water,” said Friar Sand. “It's easy enough for us,” said Monkey, “but the problem is the master.”
“Disciples,” said Sanzang, “how wide is this river?”
“Three or four miles,” said Pig.
“You three decide which of you will carry me across,” said Sanzang.
“Pig can carry you,” said Monkey.
“It'd be hard,” said Pig. “If I tried carrying him by cloud we wouldn't get three feet above the ground. As the saying goes, mortals are heavier than mountains. And if I tried to swim with him on my back we'd both drown.”
As they were talking on the bank a man appeared upstream rowing a little boat. “Disciples,” said Sanzang with delight, “here's a boat. Let's ask the boatman to take us across.”
“Boatman,” shouted Friar Sand, “ferry us over.”
“This isn't a ferry,” replied the man on the boat, “and I couldn't possibly ferry you over.” “'Helpfulness first, in Heaven and earth,'“ said Friar Sand. “You may not be a ferryman, but we don't keep coming to pester you. We are Buddhists from the East sent by the emperor to fetch the scriptures. If you could have a little consideration and ferry us over we'd show you our gratitude.”
At this the boatman brought his craft over to the bank and said as he rested on his oars, “Masters, this boat's too small to take all of you over.” When Sanzang took a closer look he saw that the boat was carved from a single log with only enough room for two hollowed out in the middle.
“What shall we do?” Sanzang asked. “This boat can take us over in two trips,” said Friar Sand. At this Pig tried what he thought would be a clever way of saving himself some trouble and getting himself well in with the master. “Friar Sand,” he said, “you and Brother Monkey look after the luggage and the horse while I take the master over first. Then the man can come back for the horse. Brother Monkey can jump over the river.”
“Good idea,” nodded Monkey.
While the idiot supported the Tang Priest, the boatman pushed off and rowed straight into the main stream. Once they reached the middle there was a great roar as huge waves blotted out the heavens, and a terrible storm blew up. What a wind!