From his waist hung a bow with poisoned arrows,
And in his hand was a steel-tipped trident.
The thunder of his voice would make a wild beast tremble,
And his ferocity terrified the pheasants.
Seeing him approach, Sanzang knelt down beside the path, put his hands together, and shouted at the top of his voice, “Spare me, bandit king, spare me.” The man went over to him, put down his trident, and raised him to his feet.
“Don't be frightened, venerable monk,” he said, “I'm not a bad man; I'm a hunter who lives in these mountains. My name is Liu Boqin and I am known as the warden of the mountain. I came along here because I wanted a couple of animals for the pot. I never expected to meet you here-I must have offended you.”
“I am a monk sent by the Emperor of the Great Tang to visit the Buddha in the Western Heaven and ask for the scriptures,” Sanzang replied. “I had just got here when I found myself completely surrounded by wolves, tigers, snakes and other creatures, which meant that I could go no further. Then suddenly you appeared, High Warden, and saved my life. Thank you very much indeed.”
“Those of us who live here,” replied Liu Boqin, “can only support ourselves by killing tigers and wolves, and catching snakes and other reptiles, which is why all those animals fled in terror from me. As you are from the Tang Empire, we are compatriots. This is still the territory of the Great Tang, and I am a Tang citizen. Both of us depend on the Emperor's lands and rivers for our food and drink, and we are fellow-countrymen, so there is nothing to fear. You must come with me to my hut, and your horse can rest. I'll take you on your way tomorrow.” Sanzang, who was delighted to hear this, thanked him and went along behind him, leading the horse.
When they had crossed the mountainside they heard a sound like the howling of a wind. “Sit down here and don't move, venerable monk,” said Boqin. “That noise like a wind means that a mountain cat is coming. Just wait a moment while I catch it, then I can take it home to feed you with.” This news so terrified Sanzang that he dared not move. The high warden was striding forward, brandishing his trident, to meet the animal, when a striped tiger appeared in front of him. At the sight of Liu Boqin the animal turned to flee, but the high warden let out a thunderclap of a shout: “Where d'you think you're going, wretch?” When the tiger realized that Liu Boqin was in hot pursuit, it turned and charged him, baring its claws. The high warden raised his trident to meet his opponent. At the sight of all this Sanzang collapsed on the grass, paralyzed with fear; never had he seen anything so terrifying in all his born days. The tiger and the high warden fought a magnificent battle under the mountain:
Bursting with anger,
Mad with rage.
Bursting with anger,
The warden bristled, immensely strong.
Mad with rage,
The striped tiger snorted out red dust as it showed its might.
One bared its teeth and brandished its claws,
The other twisted and turned.
The trident thrust against the heavens and blotted out the sun;
The patterned tail stirred up mist and clouds.
One made wild stabs at the chest,
The other struck at the head.
To avoid the blows was to win a new life;
A hit was an appointment with the King of Hell.
All that could be heard was the tiger bellowing
And the high warden shouting.
When the tiger bellowed,
Mountains and rivers split open, to the terror of birds and beasts.
At the high warden's shouts,
The sky was parted and the stars revealed.
The tiger's golden eyes were bulging with fury,
The hunter's valiant heart was full of wrath.
How admirable was high warden Liu of the mountain,
How splendid the lord of the beasts of the land.
As man and tiger fought for victory
Whoever weakened would lose his life.
After the pair of them had been fighting for about two hours the tiger's claws began to slacken as it grew tired, and just then the high warden smote him full in the chest with his trident. Its points pierced the animal's liver and heart, a pitiful sight. Within an instant the ground was covered with its blood as the hunter dragged it along the path by its ears. What a man! Without panting, and with his expression unchanged, he said to Sanzang, “What a piece of luck. This mountain cat will be enough! to feed you for a whole day.” Sanzang was full of praise for him.
“High Warden, you really are a mountain god.”
“It was nothing,” said Liu Boqin, “so please don't exaggerate. This is all the result of your blessings. Come on, let's skin it and boil up some of its meat as soon as we can so as to get you fed.” Holding his trident in one hand and dragging the tiger with the other he led the way, while Sanzang followed, leading his horse. As they wound their way across the mountain, a cottage suddenly came into view. In front of its gate there were:
Ancient trees reaching to the sky,
Wild creepers covering the path.
Cool were the wind and dust in the valleys,
Strange vapours coiled around the cliffs.
The scent of wild flowers was all along the path,
Deep, deep the green of the bamboos.
A thatched gatehouse,
A fenced yard,
Both pretty as a picture.
A stone bridge,
Whitewashed mud walls:
Charming austerity.
The loneliness of autumn,
Airy isolation.
Yellow leaves lay fallen beside the path,
White clouds drifted above the peaks.
Mountain birds sang in the woods
While a puppy barked outside the gate.
When he reached the gate, the high warden Liu Boqin threw down the tiger and shouted, “Where are you, lads?” Three or four servants of strange and repulsive appearance came out, and with much pulling and tugging they carried the tiger in. Boqin told them to skin it at once and prepare it to offer to their guest, then turned round to welcome Sanzang in. When they had formally greeted each other Sanzang bowed to Boqin to thank him for taking pity on him and saving his life.
“Why bother to thank me? We're fellow countrymen.” When Sanzang had been offered a seat and served with tea, an old woman came out to greet him followed by a young one. Liu Boqin explained that they were his mother and his wife.
“Madam, please take the highest seat while I bow to you,” said Sanzang.
“You are a guest from afar, venerable monk, so let us each preserve our dignity and neither bow to the other,” the old woman replied.
“Mother,” said Liu Boqin, “he has been sent by His Majesty the Tang Emperor to go to the Western Heaven to see the Buddha and fetch the scriptures. I met him on the mountain, and I thought that as we were fellow-countrymen I should invite him home to rest before I take him on his way tomorrow.” The old woman was delighted.
“Good, good,” she said. “But it would be even better to ask him to stay longer. Tomorrow is the anniversary of your father's passing away, and I would like to trouble the venerable monk to say some prayers and read a sutra for him; you could take him on his way the day after.” Although this Boqin was a tiger-killer and the high warden of the mountain, he was a dutiful son, and when he heard this suggestion he made ready paper and incense and asked Sanzang to stay.
While they talked they had not noticed the evening drawing in. The servants set out a table and stools, then brought in several dishes of tender tiger-meat, which they placed steaming hot on the table. Liu Boqin asked Sanzang to help himself while he served the rice. Putting his hands together in front of his chest, Sanzang replied, “This is wonderful, but I must tell you frankly that I have been a monk ever since I left my mother's womb, so I am quite unable to eat meat.” Boqin thought for a while before replying, “Venerable monk, our family has not eaten vegetarian food for generations. When we cut bamboo shoots, pick fungus, gather wild vegetables for drying, or make bean-curd we always cook them in the fat of roebuck, deer, tiger or leopard, so even they aren't really vegetarian; and our two cooking pots are steeped in fat, so what are we to do? I'm afraid it was wrong of me to ask you here.”