When they came down out of the pagoda the king thanked them with the words, “If you, venerable Buddha, and your three Bodhisattvas had not come here this matter would never have been cleared up.”
“Your Majesty,” Monkey said, “Golden Light is not a good name as it's not something permanent. Gold can melt and light is only shining vapor. As we monks have gone to some trouble on your behalf we would like to change the name to Subdued Dragon Monastery. This will ensure that you live for ever.” The king ordered that the name be changed and a new board hung up that read.
NATION-PROTECTING
SUBDUED DRAGON MONASTERY
FOUNDED BY ROYAL COMMAND
He then commanded that a banquet be laid on and sent for painters to paint portraits of the four of them. Their names were recorded in the Tower of Five Phoenixes. The king then had his carriage brought out to see the Tang Priest and his disciples on their way. He tried to give them gold and jewels, but they firmly refused to accept anything. Indeed:
Evil had been wiped out;
Now calmness once more reigned.
Sunshine had been brought back,
The pagoda's light regained.
If you don't know what happened on the journey ahead listen to the explanation in the next installment.
Chapter 64
Wuneng Works Hard on Thorn Ridge
Sanzang Talks of Poetry in the Wood Immortals' Hermitage
The story has been told how the king of Jisai thanked Tang Sanzang and his three disciples for capturing the demons and pressed on them gold and jade, none of which they would accept. The king therefore told his aides to have made for each of them two suits of clothing like those they were wearing, two pairs of socks, two pairs of shoes and two belts. They were also provided with dry rations, and their passport was duly examined and returned. They were seen out of the city by a procession of carriages, the civil and military officials, the common people of the city and the monks of the Subdued Dragon Monastery. There was also loud music. After six or seven miles they took their leave of the king, to be accompanied for a further six or seven miles by everyone else. Then all the others turned back except the monks of the Subdued Dragon Monastery, who were still with them after twenty miles. Some of the monks wanted to accompany them to the Western Heaven and the others wanted to cultivate their conduct and wait on them.
Seeing that none of them was willing to turn back Monkey decided to use his powers. He pulled out thirty or forty of his hairs, blew on them with magic breath, shouted, “Change!” and turned them into ferocious striped tigers that leapt roaring about on the path ahead. Only then were the monks scared into going back. The Great Sage then led the master as he whipped his horse forward and they were soon far away.
At this the monks began to weep aloud, shouting, “Kind and honorable sirs, fate must be against us since you won't take us with you.”
Let us tell not of the wailing monks but of how the master and his three disciples headed along the main path West for a while before Monkey took his hairs back. Once again the seasons were changing, and it was now the end of winter and the beginning of spring, neither hot nor cold. As they were making their way along without a care they saw a long ridge in front of them over which the road led. Sanzang reined in his horse to look. He saw that the ridge was overgrown with brambles and creepers. Although the line of the path could be made out there were brambles and thorns all over it. “How are we going to manage that path, disciples?” he asked.
“No problem,” Monkey replied.
“But, disciple, the path is covered with thorns. We could only manage it by crawling on our bellies like snakes or insects. Your backs will be bent with walking, and I'll never be able to ride the horse.”
“There's nothing to worry about, Master,” Pig replied. “I'll clear the thorns away with my rake. It'll be just like gathering up kindling for the fire. Never mind about riding your horse-I promise we could even get up there in a carrying-chair.”
“You are very strong,” the Tang Priest replied, “but it is a long way and it will be hard. I don't know where you'll find the energy to do that distance: goodness only knows how far it is.”
“There's no need to guess,” said Monkey. “I'll go and have a look.” When he jumped up into the air he saw it stretching away endlessly. Indeed:
Vast was its size;
It was covered in mist and rain.
Soft was the carpet of grass on the path;
The mountain was covered in brilliant green.
New leaves were sprouting in dense abundance,
Fragrant creepers climbed all around.
When seen from afar no end was in sight;
From close to it seemed a mass of verdant cloud,
Luxuriant, mysterious and green.
The winds soughed everywhere
As the ridge shone bright in the sunshine.
There was pine and cypress and bamboo,
Many a plum and willow, and mulberry too.
Climbing figs coiled round ancient trees,
While creepers entwined the weeping poplars,
All twisted together like a frame,
Woven together in a bed.
Here the flowers made living brocade;
Far spread the scent of boundless blossom.
Everyone's life has brambles and thorns.
But none are as tall as those in the West.
Having looked for a long time, Monkey brought his cloud down and said, “Master, it's a very long way.”
“How far?” Sanzang asked.
“I can't see any end to it,” Monkey replied. “There must be at least three hundred miles of it.”
“That's terrible,” said Sanzang.
“Don't be miserable, Master,” said Friar Sand with a laugh. “We know how to burn undergrowth. Set fire to it with a torch and all the thorns will be burned away. Then we'll be able to cross.”
“Don't talk nonsense,” Pig replied. “You can only clear the ground that way in November or later when the grass has withered and there are dead trees. The fire won't take otherwise. It'd never burn now, when everything's growing.”
“Even if it did burn it would be terrifying,” said Monkey.
“Then how are we to get across?” Sanzang asked.
“You'll just have to depend on me,” said Pig with a grin.
The splendid idiot made a spell with his hands and said the words of it, leaned forward, and said, “Grow!” He grew two hundred feet tall, then waved the rake and shouted. “Change!” It became three hundred feet long. Then he strode forward and wielded the rake two-handed to clear the undergrowth from both sides of the path. “Come with me, Master,” he said. Sanzang was delighted to whip the horse along and follow close behind while Friar Sand carried the luggage and Monkey used his cudgel to help clear the way. They did not let their hands rest for a moment all day long, and they had covered over thirty miles when near nightfall they came to an empty stretch of ground where a stone tablet stood in the middle of the path.
On the tablet the words THORN RIDGE were written large, and under them two lines of smaller writing read, “Two hundred and fifty miles of rampant thorns; few travelers have ever taken this road.”
When Pig saw this he said with a laugh, “Let me add a couple more lines to that: 'Pig has always been good at removing thorns; he's cleared the roads right to the West.'“ Sanzang then dismounted in a very good mood.
“Disciples,” he said, “I've put you to a lot of trouble. Let's stop here for the night and carry on at first light tomorrow.”
“Don't stop now, Master,” said Pig with a smile. “It's a clear sky and we're in the mood. It's all right if we carry on all bloody night.” The venerable elder had to accept his suggestion.