“I couldn't possibly ride it-it's got no saddle or bridle,” his master replied, “but we can sort this out when we've found a boat to ferry us across the stream.”
“Master, you seem to have no common sense at all. Where will a boat be found in these wild mountains? This horse has lived here for a long time and is bound to know about the currents, so you can ride him and use him as your boat.” Sanzang had no choice but to do as Monkey suggested and ride the horse bareback to the edge of the stream while Monkey carried the luggage.
An aged fisherman appeared upstream, punting a raft along with the current. As soon as he saw him, Monkey waved his hand and shouted, “Come here, fisherman, come here. We're from the East, and we're going to fetch the scriptures. My master is having some trouble crossing the river, so come and ferry him over.”
The fisherman punted towards them with all speed, while Monkey asked Sanzang to dismount and helped him on board the raft. Then he led the horse on and loaded the luggage, after which the fisherman pushed off and started punting with the speed of an arrow. Before they realized it they had crossed the Eagle's Sorrow Gorge and were on the Western bank.
When Sanzang told Brother Monkey to open the bundle and find a few Great Tang coins and notes to give the fisherman, the old man pushed his raft off from the shore with the words, “I don't want your money, I don't want your money,” and drifted off into mid-stream. Sanzang was most upset, but could do nothing except put his hands together and thank him.
“There's no need to thank him, master,” Monkey said. “Can't you see who he is? He's the water god of this stream, and I should be giving him a beating for not coming to welcome me. He should consider himself lucky to get off the beating-how could he possibly expect money too?” His master, who was only half-convinced, mounted the saddleless horse once more and followed Monkey to join the main path, and then they hurried on towards the West. Indeed:
The great truth landed on the opposite bank,
The sincere heart and complete nature climbed Vulture Peak.
As disciple and master went forward together, the sun slipped down in the West and evening drew in.
Pale and ragged clouds,
The moon dim over the mountains,
As the cold frost fills the heavens,
And the wind's howl cuts through the body.
With the lone bird gone, the grey island seems vast;
Where the sunset glows, the distant mountains are low.
In the sparse forests a thousand trees moan,
On the deserted peak a lonely ape screams.
The path is long, and bears no footprints,
As the boat sails thousands of miles into the night.
As Sanzang was gazing into the distance from the back of his horse, he noticed a farm-house beside the path. “Monkey,” he said, “let's spend the night in the house ahead of us and go on in the morning.”
Monkey looked up and replied, “Master, it's not a farm-house.”
“Why not?”
“A farm-house wouldn't have all those decorative fishes and animals on the roof. It must be a temple or a nunnery.”
As they were talking they reached the gate, and when Sanzang dismounted he saw the words TEMPLE OF THE WARD ALTAR written large above the gate and went inside.
Here an old man with a rosary of pearls hanging round his neck came out to meet them with his hands held together and the words, “Please sit down, master.” Sanzang quickly returned his courtesies and entered the main building to pay his respects to the divine image. The old man told a servant to bring tea, and when that had been drunk Sanzang asked the old man why the temple was dedicated to the ward altar.
“This place is in the territory of the Western land of Kami,” the old man replied, “and behind the temple lives the devout farm family which built it. 'Ward' means the ward of a village, and the altar is the altar of the local tutelary deity. At the time of the spring ploughing, the summer weeding, the autumn harvest, and the storing away in winter they all bring meat, flowers, and fruit to sacrifice to the altar. They do this to ensure good fortune throughout the four seasons, a rich crop of the five grains, and good health for the six kinds of livestock.”
On hearing this Sanzang nodded and said in approval, “How true it is that 'Go three miles from home, and you're in another land.' We have nothing as good as this in our country.” The old man then asked him where his home was.
“I come from the land of the Great Tang in the East,” Sanzang replied, “and I have imperial orders to go to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and ask for the scriptures. As our journey brought us this way and it is almost night, we have come to this holy temple to ask for a night's lodging. We shall set off at dawn.” The old man, who was very pleased to hear this, apologized profusely for having failed in his hospitality and told the servant to prepare a meal. When Sanzang had eaten he thanked the old man.
Monkey's sharp eyes had noticed a clothes-line under the eaves of the building. He went over, tore it down, and hobbled the horse with it. “Where did you steal that horse from?” the old man asked with a smile.
“You don't know what you're talking about,” Monkey replied. “We're holy monks going to visit the Buddha, so how could we possibly steal a horse.”
“If you didn't steal it,” the old man continued, the smile still on his lips, “then why do you have to break my clothes-line because it's got no saddle, bridle or reins?”
Sanzang apologized for Monkey and said to him, “You're too impatient, you naughty monkey. You could have asked the old gentleman for a piece of rope to tether the horse with. There was no need to snap his clothes-line. Please don't be suspicious, sir,” Sanzang went on, addressing the old man. “This horse isn't stolen, I can assure you. When we reached the Eagle's Sorrow Gorge yesterday I was riding a white horse complete with saddle and bridle. We did not know that there was an evil dragon in the stream who had become a spirit, and this dragon swallowed my horse saddle, bridle and all, in a single gulp. Luckily this disciple of mine has certain powers, and he brought the Bodhisattva Guanyin to the side of the gorge, where she caught the dragon and changed it into a white horse, exactly like the original one, to carry me to the Western Heaven to visit the Buddha. It's been less than a day from when we crossed that stream to when we reached your holy shrine, sir, and we haven't yet saddle or bridle for it.”
“Please don't be angry, Father. I was only joking,” the old man replied. “I never thought your respected disciple would take it seriously. When I was young I had a bit of money, and I was fond of riding a good horse, but many years of troubles and bereavement have taken the fire out of me, and I've come to this miserable end as a sacristan looking after the incense. Luckily the benefactor who owns the farm behind here provides me with the necessities of life. As it happens, I still have a saddle and bridle-I was so fond of them in the old days that I have never been able to bring myself to sell them, poor as I am. Now that I have heard, venerable master, how the Bodhisattva saved the divine dragon and changed it into a horse to carry you, I feel that I must help too, so I shall bring that saddle and bridle out tomorrow for you to ride on. I beg you to be gracious enough to accept them.”
Sanzang thanked him effusively. The servant boy had by now produced the evening meal, and when it was over they spread out their bedding, lamp in hand, and all went to sleep.