“Why did you send for the dragon kings and not for me,” the Bodhisattva asked, “if he has True Samadhi Fire and such great powers?”
“I wanted to come,” Monkey replied, “but I'd been so badly affected by the smoke that I couldn't ride a cloud. I sent Pig to come and ask you for help instead.”
“But he has not been here,” the Bodhisattva replied.
“That's just it,” said Monkey. “Before Pig reached this island the evil spirit turned himself into your double, Bodhisattva, lured him into the cave, and has now hung him up in a leather bag ready to be steamed and eaten.”
When the Bodhisattva heard this she said in a furious rage, “How dare that vicious demon turn himself into my double!” With a roar of anger she flung her precious pure vase into the sea. Monkey was so horrified that his hair stood on end. He rose to his feet, stood below the Bodhisattva's throne, and said, “If the Bodhisattva does not control her temper I'll be blamed for talking out of turn and ruining her conduct. This is terrible. You've thrown your vase away. Had I known you could have done me a big favour and given it to me.”
Before the words were all out of his mouth the waves of the sea started to dance and the vase emerged from them. It was being carried on the back of a monster. When Brother Monkey took a good look at the monster he saw what it was like:
Where he comes from he is known as Mud-carrier,
Shining in splendor alone beneath the sea,
Knowing Heaven and earth from his ancient obscurity,
And the ways of ghosts and gods from his peaceful hiding-place.
When concealed he withdraws his head and his tail,
But his legs can make him swim as fast as flying.
On him King Wen drew trigram and Zeng Yuan cast omens;
He always was offered at the court of Fu Xi.
All beauty is revealed by this primal dragon,
Calling up the breakers and making the waves.
Threads of gold sew his carapace together,
And brindling gives the color to the tortoise-shell.
Its back carries the Eight Trigram Ninefold Palace;
Scattered splendor flecks his coat of green.
The dragon king admires him for his courage when alive;
He carries the tablet of Lord Buddha after death.
If you want to know what this creature is called,
He is the wicked tortoise who causes wind and waves.
Carrying the vase on his back, the tortoise crawled ashore, and made twenty-four nods to the Bodhisattva that counted as twenty-four kowtows. Seeing this Monkey laughed to himself as he said, “He must be the vase-keeper. I suppose they ask him for the vase whenever it's lost.”
“What is that you are saying, Wukong?”
“Nothing,” Monkey replied.
“Fetch the vase,” the Bodhisattva ordered. Monkey went over to pick it up, but he had no more chance of moving it than a dragonfly has of shifting a stone pillar by even a fraction of an inch. Monkey went back to the Bodhisattva, knelt before her, and said, “Bodhisattva, your disciple cannot move it.”
“All you can do, you ape, is talk,” said the Bodhisattva. “If you can't even move a vase how can you hope to subdue demons?”
“To be honest, Bodhisattva, I would normally be able to move it, but today I just can't. I think that being beaten by the evil spirit must have weakened me.”
“It is usually an empty vase,” said the Bodhisattva, “but when I threw it into the sea it went round the Three Rivers, the Five Lakes, the Eight Seas, the Four Streams, and all the brooks, springs, pools and caves to borrow a whole seaful of water. You are nowhere near strong enough to lift a sea up. That is why you can't move it.”
“Indeed,” said Brother Monkey, his hands clasped before him, “your disciple didn't know that.”
The Bodhisattva then stepped forward, gently lifted the vase with her right hand, and placed it on the palm of her left hand. The tortoise nodded to the Bodhisattva again and slipped back into the sea. “So you keep a domestic cretin to look after your vase,” observed Monkey.
“Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, seating herself, “the sweet dew in this flask of mine, unlike the dragon kings' private rain, can extinguish Samadhi Fire. I was going to let you take it, but you cannot move it. Then I thought of asking the Naga Maiden to go with you, but you have not got a kind heart and you are an inveterate deceiver. My Naga Maiden is very lovely, and the vase is precious; if you were to steal either of them I would be much too busy to go looking for you. So you will have to leave something as security.”
“How sad,” said Monkey, “that you should be so suspicious, Bodhisattva. I've never done anything like that since I was converted to the faith. What would you like me to leave as security? You yourself presented me with the brocade tunic I'm wearing. My tiger-skin kilt isn't worth tuppence, and I need this iron cudgel for self-defense. All that's left is the band round my head. It's gold, but you used magic to make it grow into my skull so that is can't be taken off. If you want security I'd like you to take that. Say a band-loosening spell and take it off. If that won't do, what else is there?”
“You are a cool customer,” said the Bodhisattva. “I do not want your clothes, your cudgel or your band. Just pluck out one of the life-saving hairs from the back of your head and give me that as your security.”
“But you gave it to me, Your Reverence,” protested Monkey. “Besides, If I pulled one out it would break up the set, and they'd not be able to save my life any more.”
“Ape,” said the Bodhisattva angrily, “you refuse to pull out one little hair. I do not feel at all like parting with my Maiden.”
“Bodhisattva,” pleaded Monkey, “you are being too suspicious. As they say, 'if you won't do it for the monk's sake do it for the Buddha's sake. Whatever you do, please, please save my master.” The Bodhisattva
Stepped down with joy from her lotus seat,
Went amid incense to the crag by cloud.
Because the holy monk faced mortal peril
She would deliver him and catch the fiend.
Monkey was absolutely delighted. He invited the Bodhisattva to leave the Tide Cave where the devas were drawn up in line on Pota Cliff. “Let us cross the sea, Wukong,” the Bodhisattva said.
“After you, Bodhisattva,” said Monkey with a bow. “No, after you,” replied the Bodhisattva.
“I would not dare to show off in front of the Bodhisattva,” said Monkey, kowtowing. “Were I to ride my somersault cloud, Bodhisattva, I fear I might be somewhat exposed, and you'd accuse me of disrespect.” At this the Bodhisattva sent the Naga Maiden to cut a lotus petal from the lotus pool and take it to the water beneath the cliff. “Stand on that petal,” the Bodhisattva said to Brother Monkey, “and I will take you across the sea.”
“But that petal is much too light and thin to take my weight,” said Monkey. “If I fall into the sea my tigerskin kilt will get soaked, and the saltpeter that keeps it soft will be washed out. Then I won't be able to wear it in cold weather.”
“Get on and see,” shouted the Bodhisattva. Not daring to make any more excuses, Monkey obediently jumped on it. Although it looked so flimsy it was considerably bigger than a sea-going boat once he was aboard.
“It can carry me, Bodhisattva,” he exclaimed with delight.
“Then over the sea with you,” replied the Bodhisattva.
“But there's no pole, oars, mast or sail,” said Monkey, “so how can I get over?”
“You will not need them,” said the Bodhisattva, and with a single breath she blew the boat right across to the opposite shore of the Southern Sea of Suffering.