The Dharma is born in the mind,

And in turn is destroyed by the mind.

Who do life and death come from?

Decide for yourself.

If it is all from your own mind,

Why do you need others to tell you?

All you need to do is work hard,

Squeezing blood out of iron.

Thread a silken rope through your nose.

And fasten yourself to emptiness.

Tie it to the tree of non-action,

To prevent it from collapsing.

Don't acknowledge bandits as your sons,

Or you will forget the Dharma and the mind.

Do not allow yourself to be deceived by others—

Smash them first with a punch.

When the mind appears it is non-existent,

When the Dharma appears, it ceases.

When the boy and the ox both disappear,

The blue sky is absolutely clear.

All is as round as an autumn moon,

And this and that can no longer be distinguished.

This gatha refers to how the Patriarch Xuanzang came to awareness and understanding of the Heart Sutra and thus opened the gate. As that venerable elder recited it constantly, a ray of miraculous light penetrated through to him.

Eating and sleeping in the open, the three of them traveled on, and before long the heat of summer was upon them.

The blossoms were over, the butterflies' passion spent.

High in the trees the cicadas screeched.

Wild silkworms spun cocoons amid the pomegranate blossom,

As lotus flowers opened in the pool.

As they were travelling along one evening they saw a cottage beside the road. “Look,” said Sanzang, “the sun is setting behind the Western hills, hiding its mirror of fire, and the moon is rising from the Eastern sea to show its wheel of ice. How lucky that there is a family living by our path. Let's spend the night here and set off again tomorrow morning.”

“Well said,” put in Pig. “I'm a bit hungry, and if we begged some food from that house I'd have more strength for carrying the luggage.”

“Homesick ghost,” remarked Brother Monkey, “you've only been away from home for a few days, but you're already regretting that you came.”

“Elder brother,” Pig replied, “I can't live on wind and mist like you. You couldn't realize how the hunger's been gnawing at my stomach all these days I've been following our master.”

“Pig,” said Sanzang, “if your heart is still at home, you are not intended for a religious life, and you'd better go back.”

The oafish Pig fell to his knees and pleaded, “Master, please don't pay any attention to what my elder brother says: it's an insult. He says I wish I hadn't come, but in fact I've had no regrets at all. I may be stupid, but I'm straight. I just said that I was hungry and want to beg for some food, and he starts calling me a homesick ghost. But the Bodhisattva told me about the prohibitions, and you have been so kind to me; so I really do want to serve you on your journey to the West. I'll never have any regrets, I swear I won't. This is what they call 'cultivating conduct the hard way'. What right have you to say I shouldn't be a monk?”

“Very well then,” said Sanzang, “up you get.”

The idiot leapt up, and picked up the carrying-pole, chattering incessantly. Then he pressed grimly on. Before long they reached the roadside house, where Sanzang dismounted as Monkey took the bridle and Pig put down his burden. They all stood in a green shade. Sanzang took his nine-ringed monastic staff, straightened his rattan hat, and hurried to the gates, where he saw an old man lying back on a bamboo bed mumbling Buddhist scriptures to himself.

Not wanting to shout loudly, Sanzang said in a quiet voice, “Greetings, benefactor.”

The old man sprang to his feet, straightened his clothes, and came out through the gate to return his greeting. “Excuse my discourtesy, venerable sir,” he said, going on to ask, “Where are you from, and why have you come to my humble abode?”

“I am a monk from the Great Tang in the East,” Sanzang replied, “and I bear an imperial command to worship the Buddha in the Thunder Monastery and ask for the scriptures. As we find ourselves in this district at nightfall, I would be enormously obliged if you could allow us to spend the night in your mansion.”

“You'll never get there,” said the old man with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head. “It's impossible to get scriptures from the Western Heaven. If you want scriptures you'd better go to the Eastern Heaven.” Sanzang said nothing as he asked himself why the old man was telling them to go East when the Bodhisattva had instructed them to go West. How could the scriptures be obtained in the East, he asked himself. In his embarrassment he was at loss for words, so he made no reply.

Monkey, who was rough by his very nature, could not stand for this, so he went up to the old man and shouted, “Old fellow, you may be very ancient but you're a complete fool. We holy men from far away come to ask for lodging, but all you can do is to try to put us off. If your house is too poky and there isn't room for us to sleep in it, we'll sit under the trees all night and won't trouble you any further.” The old man grabbed hold of Sanzang and said, “Master, you didn't warn me that you had a disciple with such a twisted face and no chin to speak of, looking like a thunder god with his red eyes. You shouldn't let a demon of sickness like him alarm and offend a person of my age.”

“You're completely lacking in judgement, old man,” Monkey said with a laugh. “Those pretty boys may look good but, as they say, they don't taste good. I may be little but I'm tough, and it's all muscle under my skin.”

“I suppose you must have some powers,” the old man remarked.

“Without wishing to boast,” Monkey replied, “I can get by.”

“Where is your home,” the old man asked, “and why did you shave your head and become a monk?”

“My ancestral home is the Water Curtain Cave on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit in the land of Aolai which lies across the sea to the East of the Eastern Continent of Superior Body. I learned how to be an evil monster from childhood, and my name was Wukong, or Awakened to Emptiness. I used my abilities to make myself the Great Sage Equaling Heaven, but as I declined heavenly office and raised a great rebellion against the Heavenly Palace, I brought a disaster down on my own head. My sufferings are now over. I've turned to the Buddhist faith and am seeking a good reward for the future by escorting His Tang Excellency, my master, on his journey to the Western Heaven to visit the Buddha. I'm not afraid of high mountains with precipitous paths, or of broad rivers with huge waves. I can catch monsters and subdue demons, capture tigers or dragons, walk in the sky, or burrow into the earth. As long as your mansion has a few broken bricks and tiles, a singing pot and an open door, I'll be able to rest here contented.”

After hearing this speech, the old man said with a chuckle, “So you're a monk with the gift of the gab who suddenly switched destinies.”

“You're the gabber, my child,” retorted Monkey. “I'm too tired after the strain of the journey with my master to be able to talk.”

“It's as well you are,” the old man replied, “or you'd be talking me to death. If you have all these powers you'll be able to reach the West. How many of you are there? Please come into my cottage for the night.”

“Thank you very much for not losing your temper with him,” Sanzang said. “There are three of us.”

“Where is the third?” the old man asked.

“Your eyes are very dim, old man,” said Monkey, pointing as he continued, “Can't you see him standing in the shade there?”

When the old man, whose eyes were indeed dim, looked carefully and saw Pig's face he was so terrified that he ran into the house shouting, “Shut the gates, shut the gates, there's a monster here.”

Monkey ran after him and grabbed him. “Don't be afraid, old fellow,” he said, “he's not an evil monster, he's a fellow-disciple of mine.”

“Very well then,” replied the old man, who was trembling all over, “but what a hideous creature to be a monk.”

As the old man was talking to the three monks in front of the gates, two young men appeared at the Southern end of the farm bringing an old woman and three or four children back from transplanting rice-seedlings, for which reason their clothes were tucked up and their feet were bare.

When they saw the white horse and the carrying pole with luggage and heard the shouting at the gates of their home, they did not know what was up, so they rushed forward and asked, “What are you doing?” Pig turned round, flapped his ears, and thrust his snout at them, at which they all collapsed in terror or fled.

In the confusion Sanzang kept calling out, “Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, we are good men, we are monks going to fetch the scriptures.” The old man then came out again, and helped the old woman to her feet.

“Up you get, wife,” he said, “there's no call for panic. This holy father is from the Tang court, and although his disciples are a bit ugly, their hearts are in the right place. Please take the youngsters inside.” The old woman clung to the old man while the two young men took the children inside.

As he sat on a bamboo chair in the gatehouse, Sanzang said indignantly, “Disciples, the pair of you are ugly to look at, and your language is too coarse. You gave that whole family a terrible fright, and got me into trouble.”

“I tell you truthfully, master,” Pig replied, “that I've grown better-looking since I've been following you. When I lived in Gao Village I looked so awful that I often used to scare twenty or thirty people to death by making a face and waggling my ears.”

“Don't exaggerate, stupid,” said Monkey with a smile, “and tidy that ugly mug of yours up a bit.”

“What nonsense you're talking, Monkey,” said Sanzang. “He was born that way, so how can you expect him to tidy his face up?”

“He could stick his rake of a snout into his chest, and not bring it out; and he could lay those fan-shaped ears down behind his head and not waggle them. That would tidy his appearance up.” Pig then tucked his snout away and laid his ears back, and stood beside Sanzang with his head bowed. Brother Monkey took the luggage inside and tethered the white horse to a post.

The old man came out again with a young man who was carrying a tray with three cups of tea on it, and when it had been drunk he gave instructions for a vegetarian meal to be prepared. The young man then brought out an old, dented, and unlacquered table, as well as a pair of benches with chipped tops and broken legs, which he put in a cool spot before asking the three of them to sit down. Sanzang then asked the old man his surname, and was told, “Your humble servant's surname is Wang.”

“How many descendants have you?”

“Two sons and three grandchildren.”

“Congratulations, congratulations,” said Sanzang; then he asked the old man how old he was.

“I have lived in my stupidity to sixty-one.”

“Splendid, splendid, you have begun a new cycle,” said Sanzang. “Benefactor,” he continued, “why did you say at first that it would be impossible to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven?”

“There is no problem about actually getting the scriptures,” the old man replied, “it's just that the journey will be very difficult. Only some twelve miles to the West of here is a mountain called the three-hundred mile Yellow Wind Ridge, and it's full of evil monsters. That's why I said it would be impossible to get the scriptures. But as this younger gentleman says he has so many magic powers, you will be able to get there.”

“Certainly, certainly,” said Monkey. “With me, my master and my fellow-disciple, no devils, however fierce, will dare to provoke us.”

As he spoke the youth came in with food, which he put on the table with the words, “Please eat.” Sanzang put his hands together and started to recite the grace. By then Pig had already swallowed a bowlful, and the moron finished three more before the short prayer was over.

“What a chaff-guzzler,” said Monkey. “We do seem to have run into a hungry ghost.”

Old Wang, however, found the speed at which Pig ate very amusing, and said, “This reverend gentleman must be very hungry. Give him more rice at once.” The stupid creature indeed had a large stomach. Look at him, keeping his head down as he devours at least a dozen bowls. Sanzang and Monkey had not been able to finish two bowls, but the idiot would not stop and was still eating. “As this is far from being haute cuisine, I cannot press you too hard, but please take another mouthful.”

“We have eaten enough,” said Sanzang and Monkey; but Pig said, “What are you going on about, old fellow? Who's been telling your fortune? Is that why you're going on about quizzing? Anyhow, as long as there's rice, give me some more.” In a single meal the idiot ate all the rice in the house, and still said that he was only half-full. Then the table was cleared away, bamboo beds were set out for them in the gatehouse, and they went to sleep.

At dawn the next morning Monkey went to saddle the horse while Pig packed the luggage. Old Wang told his wife to prepare some pastries and hot water for then, after which the three of them thanked him and said good-bye. “If anything goes wrong on your journey,” the old man said, “you must come to our place.”

“Don't be so discouraging, old fellow,” said Monkey. “We're dedicated, and there's no turning back for us.”

With that they whipped the horse, picked up the carrying-pole, and headed West.

Alas! On their journey there was no good path to the West, and there were undoubtedly demons and great disasters in store for them. Before they had been going for half a day, they reached the mountain. It was most precipitous. Sanzang rode as far as the edge of a cliff, then dismounted to have a look.

High was the mountain,

Craggy the ridge;

Steep the cliffs,

Deep the valleys.

Springs could be heard,

And sweet smelt the flowers.

Was that mountain high?

Its summit touched the azure heavens.

Were the gorges deep?

At their bottom you could see the Underworld.

In front of the mountain

Were rolling white clouds,

And towering crags.

There were no end of myriad-fathom, soul-snatching cliffs,

In which were twisting caves for dragons,

Caves full of stalactites dripping with water.

He saw deer with branching antlers,

And river-deer gazing with fixed stare,

Coiled, red-scaled pythons,

And mischievous, white-faced apes.

At evening tigers climbed the hills to find their dens;

Dragons emerged from the waves at dawn,

To enter their caves with thunderous roars.

Birds flying in the grass

Rose in a flurry;

Beasts walking in the woods

Hurried helter-skelter.

Suddenly a pack of wolves ran past,

Making the heart pound hard with fear.

This is a place where caves are linked with caves,

And mountains stand with mountains.

The green of the peak made it like ten thousand feet of jade,

As a myriad clouds were piled above it like a cover of bluish gauze.

While Sanzang urged his silvery steed slowly forward, Monkey strolled ahead on his cloud and Pig ambled along with the carrying-pole. As they looked at the mountain they heard a whirlwind blowing up, and Sanzang was alarmed.

“Wukong,” he said, “there's a whirlwind coming.”

“What's there to be afraid of about a wind?” said Monkey. “It's only weather, after all, and nothing to be scared of.”

“But this is a very evil wind, not like a natural wind at all,” Sanzang replied.

“How can you tell?” Monkey asked.

“Just look at it,” said Sanzang:

“Mighty and majestic it howls and roars,

Coming out of the distant heavens.

As it crosses the ridge the trees moan,

The trunks bend when it enters the wood.

“The willow on the bank is shaken to its roots,

And flowers and leaves go swirling round the garden.

On the fishing boats gathering in nets, they pull hard on the cables;

Ships lower their sails, and all cast anchor.

“The traveler loses his way in mid-journey,

The woodcutter in the hills cannot carry his load.

The monkeys scatter in the orchards of fairy fruit,

The deer flee from the clumps of rare flowers.

“Locust trees and cedars collapse before the cliff,

While pine and bamboo in the valley are stripped of leaves.

There are stinging blasts of dirt and sand,

And waves boil on rivers and seas.”

Pig went up to Monkey and grabbed hold of him. “Brother,” he said, “this is a terrific storm. Let's take shelter.”

“You're useless, brother,” replied Monkey with a mocking laugh. “If a big wind makes you want to hide, what are you going to do when you meet an evil spirit?”

“Elder brother, have you never heard the saying, 'Avoid a pretty girl as you would an enemy, avoid a wind as you would an arrow?'“ Pig replied. “There's no reason why we shouldn't take shelter.”

“Stop talking, will you, while I get a hold on that wind and take a sniff at it,” said Monkey.

“You're talking through your hat again,” said Pig with a grin. “As if you could get a hold on a wind. Besides, even if you did, your hand would go through it.”

“What you don't know, brother, is that I have a magic way of catching winds,” Monkey replied. Letting the head of the wind pass, the splendid Monkey grabbed the tail and sniffed at it. It had rather a foul stench. “It certainly isn't a good wind,” he remarked. “It smells like either a tiger wind or a monster wind. There's definitely something suspicious about it.”

Before the words were out of his mouth, a ferocious striped tiger leapt out at the foot of the slope, slashing with its tail and rushing towards them. Sanzang was so scared that he could no longer keep his seat in his carved saddle, but fell headfirst off his white horse and lay sprawled in a witless heap beside the path.

Pig threw down the luggage, grabbed his rake and, not letting Monkey move forward, roared, “Animal, where d'you think you're going?” He went straight after it and smote it on the head. The tiger stood up on its hind legs, and with a swing of its front left claws ripped at its own chest. There was a tearing noise as its skin all came off, and then the creature stood beside the path. Just see how hideous was:

A gory, skinned body,

Round, red legs and feet.

Fiery, matted hair,

And straight, bristling eyebrows.

Four sinister steely white fangs,

A pair of glittering golden eyes.

With soaring spirits it gave a mighty roar,

A mighty and majestic shout.

“Not so fast,” it yelled, “not so fast. I am none other than the Commander of the Vanguard for the Great Yellow Wind King. I bear His Majesty's strictest command to patrol the mountain and catch a few common mortals as tidbits for him to nibble with his wine. Where are you from, monk, and how dare you wound me with that weapon of yours?”

“I'll get you, you beast,” replied Pig abusively. “You don't seem to realize that I'm not just any old passing traveler: I'm a disciple of Sanzang, the younger brother of the Tang Emperor of the East, who has been sent by the Emperor to visit the Buddha in the Western Heaven and ask for the scriptures. If you clear off, stop blocking our path, and don't frighten my master any more, I'll spare your life. But if you go on raging about like that, there'll be no mercy for you.”

Not bothering to argue, the evil spirit rushed at Pig, feinted, and clawed at his face. Pig dodged nimbly and swung his rake at the monster, who turned and fled as he was unarmed. With Pig at his heels he made for the bottom of the slope and produced two bronze swords from the tangled undergrowth there; then, brandishing them, he turned to face Pig. The two of them battled away at the foot of the hill, lunging and hitting at each other. Monkey, who was helping the Tang Priest to sit up, said, “Don't be afraid, master. You sit here while I help Pig to defeat that monster, then we can be on our way.” Sanzang, who had managed to sit up, was shaking all over and intoning the Heart Sutra.

Monkey grabbed his cudgel and shouted, “Get it.” Pig made a tremendous effort, and the monster fled from the scene of battle. “Don't let him get away,” yelled Monkey, “you must catch it.” The pair of them chased the monster down the mountain, waving the rake and the cudgel. The monster was so hard-pressed that it did a “golden cicada shedding its skin” trick. It reverted to its real form—a ferocious tiger—with a somersault, but Monkey and Pig would still not let it get away, and were hot on its heels, determined to destroy it. When the monster saw how close they were, it ripped at its chest and tore off its skin again, then laid it over a rock that was shaped like a crouching tiger. Then it abandoned its real body, turned into a hurricane, and went straight back to the path, where it noticed Sanzang reciting the Heart Sutra. Sanzang was grabbed by the monster and carried away on the wind. Poor Sanzang:

The Monk of the River was fated to suffer much;

In the faith of Nirvana it is hard to win merit.

Carrying the Tang Priest to the mouth of the cave, the monster stilled the hurricane and said to the gatekeepers, “Report to His Majesty at once that the Tiger of the Vanguard has caught a monk and is awaiting further instructions outside the gates.” He was then admitted on the orders of the chieftain. With his two bronze swords stuck in his belt and holding the Tang Priest in both hands, he went forward and genuflected before the chieftain. “Your Majesty,” he said, “your humble underling was patrolling the mountain as ordered when suddenly I met a monk. He is the Patriarch Sanzang, the younger brother of His Majesty the Great Tang Emperor, and he was going to the West to visit the Buddha and ask for the scriptures. I have captured him and now offer him as a dish for your table.”

The chieftain was astonished at the news. “I've heard tell of the Patriarch Sanzang, the holy priest sent by the Great Tang Emperor to fetch the scriptures. He has a disciple called Brother Monkey whose magical powers are tremendous and whose cunning is considerable. However did you manage to catch him?”

“He has two disciples. The first one to come at me was a fellow with a long nose and big ears who wields a nine-pronged rake, and the second one has a gold-banded iron cudgel and fiery eyes with golden pupils. When the pair of them were after me and about to attack, I used a 'golden cicada shedding its skin' trick to make my getaway, then I caught this monk to offer to Your Majesty as a snack.”

“He's not to be eaten yet,” the chieftain said.

“You must be off your food, Your Majesty, if you won't eat what's put before you,” said the Tiger of the Vanguard.

“You don't get my point,” the chieftain replied. “It's not eating him that worries me, but the thought that those two disciples of his may come here to make trouble, which would be dangerous. Tie him to the wind-settling stake in the garden at the back, and leave him there for a few days till we're sure his disciples won't be coming to make trouble for us. This way he'll be nice and clean, and we can do what we like with him without any arguments. Whether we have him boiled, steamed, fried or scrambled, we can eat him at our leisure.”

“Your Majesty's plans are most far-sighted, and you are quite right,” said the Tiger of the Vanguard, who then ordered his underlings to take Sanzang away.

Seven or eight of them crowded forward to tie up Sanzang and take him away; they were like hawks seizing bramblings as they bound him tightly. Then did the unfortunate Monk of the River long for Brother Monkey; the holy priest in his troubles wished Pig would come.

“Disciples,” he called out, “I don't know on what mountain you are catching monsters, or where you're subduing evil spirits, but I've met with disaster and been captured by a demon. Alas, when will I ever see you again? If you come soon, you can save my life, but if you are too long about it I will be finished.” His tears poured down like rain as he moaned and sighed.

As Monkey and Pig chased the tiger down the mountain side they saw that it had reached the bottom and was crouching at the foot of the cliff. Monkey raised his cudgel and brought it down as hard as he could, thus hurting his own hands. Pig took another swipe at the beast with his rake, which made its prongs splay apart. The Tiger turned out to be only a tiger skin spread over a rock shaped like crouching tiger.

“This is terrible,” said Monkey, “he's tricked us.”

“How?” Pig asked.

“The trick is called 'the golden cicada shedding its skin'. He put his tiger-skin over this rock and got away. We'd better go back and see that our master comes to no harm.” The two of them rushed back to find that Sanzang had disappeared. “Whatever shall we do?” cried Monkey in a voice as loud as thunder. “It's caught our master.”

Pig led the horse over and said through his tears, “Heaven help us. Wherever shall we look for him?”

“Don't cry,” said Monkey, raising his head, “don't cry. If you cry you'll dampen our spirits. I'm convinced he must be somewhere on this mountain. We must start searching for him.”

The two of them hurried deep into the mountain, going through passes and crossing ridges, and after they had been going for a long time they saw a cave palace at the foot of a rock-face. They stopped to gaze at it, and saw an awe-inspiring sight:

Screened by many a jagged peak,

With ancient paths winding around;

Green pines merged with bluish bamboo;

The softness of willows and wutong trees.

Odd boulders stood in pairs before the cliff,

While birds made couples hidden in the woods.

The water in the gully splashed against the rock-wall,

As the spring waters trickled over the sandbank.

Under the billowing clouds,

Rare herbs grew lush.

Fox spirits and crafty hares darted around;

Horned deer and river-deer fought for mastery.

Ancient creepers hung across the rocks,

And a thousand-year cypress was suspended in a chasm.

In pinnacled majesty it vied with Mount Hua;

The flowers and birdsong rivaled Tiantai Peak.

“Worthy brother,” said Monkey, “put our baggage in the wind-storing cave, let the horse out to pasture, and lie low while I go to the gates of that place and fight it out with them. I must catch that evil spirit before I can rescue our master.”

“There's no need to give me instructions,” Pig replied. “Go at once.”

Monkey straightened his tunic, tightened his tiger-skin kilt, and went straight to the gate with his cudgel in his hands. Above the gate he saw YELLOW WIND CAVE OF THE YELLOW WIND RIDGE written in large letters. Taking a firm stance and brandishing the club he shouted, “Evil monsters, send my master out if you don't want this den of yours turned upside-down and your home trampled flat.”

When the junior fiends heard this they were terrified, and they ran trembling inside to announce, “Your Majesty, a disaster.”

“What is it?” asked the Yellow Wind Monster who was sitting inside.

“There's a thunder-voiced, hairy-faced monk outside with a great thick iron cudgel in his hands, and he wants his master back,” they said.

The alarmed chieftain sent for the Tiger of the Vanguard and said to him, “When I sent you to patrol the mountain you were only supposed to catch mountain oxen, wild boar, deer, and goats. Why on earth did you bring that Tang Priest here? It's provoked his disciple into coming to make trouble. What are we to do?”

“There is no need for Your Majesty to worry,” the Tiger replied. “Your incompetent underling will take fifty junior officers out with me and bring back that Brother Monkey as a second course for the meal.”

“Apart from the higher and lower ranking commanders, we have about six hundred junior officers here,” said the chieftain. “Take as many of them as you like with you. If you catch that Monkey, we can dine off the priest at our leisure, and I promise to make you my sworn brother. But I'm afraid that you won't be able to get him, and that he'll kill you. If that happens, don't blame me.”

“Rest assured,” the tiger monster said, “rest assured. I'll soon be back with him.” Mustering fifty strong and spirited young fiends, he charged out of the gates with drums rolling and banners waving; his two bronze swords were tied to his body. “Where are you from, ape monk?” he shrieked at the top of his voice. “What do you mean by all this yelling and shouting?”

“You skinned beast,” Monkey retorted, “you played that trick of skinning yourself to capture my master, and you have the nerve to ask me what I'm doing! Bring my master out at once and I'll spare your life.”

“Yes, I captured your master,” the monster replied, “and he's going to be served up at His Majesty's dinner table. If you have any sense, go away. Otherwise I'll catch you too, and you'll be served up with him. As I've got one of you, I'll let the other off.” Monkey was now furious, and he gnashed his steely teeth as his fiery eyes opened wide in a terrible glare.

“What powers have you,” he roared, brandishing his iron cudgel, “to give you the nerve to talk so big? Hold it a moment, and take this.” The tiger put his hands on his swords, and a terrible fight ensued as each of them showed off his powers.

The monster was like a goose egg,

Monkey was an egg-shaped stone.

Trying to ward off Monkey with bronze swords

Was like throwing eggs at a stone.

How can a crow or jackdaw fight a phoenix?

What chance has a pigeon against a hawk?

The monster snorted out winds that covered the mountain with dust,

But Monkey breathed a fog that blotted out the sun.

After fighting it out for many a round,

The Vanguard was exhausted, his strength all gone.

He turned away, defeated, to flee for his life,

Only to have Monkey harry him to death.

When he could defend himself no longer, the monster turned to flee. As he had talked so boastfully in front of his chieftain he dared not return to the cave, so he tried to escape up the mountain side. Monkey, who had no intention of letting him go, chased him as fast as he could, waving his cudgel, roaring, and howling. He chased him as far as the hollow where the wind was stored, where Pig could be seen pasturing the horse. As soon as Pig heard the shouting he turned to look, and when he saw Monkey pursuing the defeated tiger monster he let go of the horse, raised his rake, and struck the tiger diagonally across the head. The poor monster, who thought he had made his way out of the silken net, never realized that he had been caught by a fish-trapper. Pig's rake made nine holes from which the blood gushed, and the brains all spurted out. There is a pome to prove it that goes:

Converted to the true faith several years before,

He avoided meat and was awakened to emptiness.

Determined with all his heart to defend Sanzang

He won this merit early in his religious life.

Planting his foot in the middle of the monster's back, Pig swung the rake with both hands and smote him again. When Monkey saw this he was delighted, and he said, “That's the way, brother. He led a few dozen petty fiends out to do battle with me, but I beat him. Instead of running back to the cave he came this way, as if he wanted to die. If you hadn't been here to meet him, he'd have got away again.”

“Was he the one who made a gale and carried off our master?” Pig asked.

“The very one,” Monkey replied. “Did you ask him where our master is?” Pig asked.

“He took our master into the cave and wanted to give him to his chieftain to eat with his rice. This made me so angry that I fought him all the way to here, where you finished him off. The credit for this must go to you, brother. You'd better go on looking after the horse and our things while I drag that monster's body over to the cave and challenge them to another fight. We must capture the chief monster if we're to rescue our master.”

“You're right,” said Pig, “so off you go. If you beat that chief monster, mind you chase him this way for me to corner and kill.” Splendid Monkey went straight to the mouth of the cave with his cudgel in one hand and the dead tiger in the other. Indeed:

When the patriarch was in danger from evil monsters,

Emotion and Nature combined to subdue the demons.

If you don't know whether he defeated the evil monsters and saved Sanzang, listen to the explanation in the next installment.