Chapter 43

The Fiends of the Black River Carry the Monk Off; the Dragon Prince of the Western Sea Takes the Alligator Home

Now the Bodhisattva recited the spell several times over before she stayed her voice, and the monster's pain ceased. He came to himself and rose to look: about his neck and on his hands and feet were golden fillets, biting tight with pain; and when he tried to take one off, he could not budge it a hair. The treasure had already taken root in his flesh, and the more he rubbed, the more it hurt. Pilgrim laughed: “My pretty one — the Bodhisattva feared you wouldn't grow up, so she got you a neck ring and bracelets to wear.” At this the child fell into fresh vexation, snatched up his spear, and stabbed wildly at Pilgrim. Pilgrim hastily slipped aside and stood behind the Bodhisattva, calling: “Say the spell, say the spell!” The Bodhisattva dipped the willow sprig in a drop of sweet dew, sprinkled it, and called: “Join!” And behold, he dropped the spear, and his two hands came together palm to palm before his breast, never to be parted again. The Guanyin Clasp handed down to this day — that is its meaning. The child could not open his hands or take up his spear; only then did he understand how deep and subtle the dharma was, and having no other choice, he bowed his head to the ground.

The Bodhisattva recited the true word, tipped the pure vase, and drew back into it the whole sea's water, leaving not a drop behind. To Pilgrim she said: “Wukong, the demon is subdued — only his wild heart is not yet settled. I shall make him bow at every step, all the way to Mount Potalaka, and only then release the spell. Now go quickly to the cave and rescue your master.” Pilgrim turned, knocked his head, and said: “I am grateful for the Bodhisattva's long journey — your disciple will see you part of the way.” The Bodhisattva said: “No need. I fear you would only be costing your master his life.” Pilgrim, hearing, took his leave joyfully, with bows. The monster had already come to his true fruit: fifty-three visits, bowing to Guanyin at every one.

And of the good Bodhisattva's taking the child, no more. Now Sha Monk had sat long in the wood, waiting for Pilgrim in vain; so he swung the luggage onto the horse, took the demon-subduing staff in one hand and the bridle in the other, and came out of the pine wood to look south — and saw Pilgrim coming in high spirits. Sha Monk met him: “Brother, how is it you went to invite the Bodhisattva and are only back now? I've been roasted with worry.” Pilgrim said: “You're still dreaming — old Sun has invited the Bodhisattva and subdued the demon.” Then he told out, from beginning to end, all the Bodhisattva's powers. Sha Monk was overjoyed: “Then let's go rescue Master.”

The two of them leapt across the ravine, came up to the gate, tied the horse, and charged into the cave with weapons raised, cut down the demons to the last one, untied the leather bag, and let Bajie out. The Idiot thanked Pilgrim: “Brother, where is that demon? Let me go give him a few strokes of the rake and work off my temper.” Pilgrim said: “First let's find Master.”

The three went straight to the back, and there was their master, stark naked, trussed in the courtyard and crying. Sha Monk made haste to loose the ropes, and Pilgrim fetched his clothes and dressed him. The three knelt before him: “Master, you have suffered.” Tripitaka thanked them: “Worthy disciples, what trouble I have been to you all! How did you ever subdue the demon?” Pilgrim told the tale once more, of inviting the Bodhisattva and taking the child. Tripitaka, hearing it, at once knelt and bowed toward the south. Pilgrim said: “There's no thanking her — it is rather we who did her a kindness, gaining her a child.” When people tell how the child bowed to Guanyin, fifty-three visits, and at every visit saw the Buddha — this is it.

They had Sha Monk gather up the treasures in the cave; then they looked out rice and grain, made a vegetarian meal, and served their master. The elder owed his life wholly to the Great Sage Sun; the true scriptures, only to the handsome monkey spirit.

Master and disciples left the cave, mounted the saddled horse, took the great road, and bent their hearts due west. They traveled a month and more when suddenly they heard water sounding in their ears. Tripitaka was badly startled: “Disciples, what water is that again?” Pilgrim laughed: “Master, you're too full of suspicions — you'll never make a monk. Four of us traveling together — how is it only you hear water sounds? Have you forgotten the Heart Sutra too?” Tang monk said: “The Heart Sutra was given me by word of mouth by the Chan Master Crow's Nest of Floating-Tower Mountain — fifty-four lines in all, two hundred and seventy characters. I learned it by ear and have recited it ever since: which line of it do you think I've forgotten?” Pilgrim said: “Master, you have forgotten ‘no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind.’ We who have left home: the eye does not look on forms, the ear does not listen to sounds, the nose does not sniff scents, the tongue does not taste flavors, the body does not know cold and heat, the mind does not harbor vain fancies — that is called driving out the six bandits. Now, for the sake of the scriptures, you brood on every thought; fearing demons, you will not give up your body; wanting a meal, your tongue stirs; loving sweet smells, your nose is touched; hearing a sound, your ear startles; seeing a thing, your eye fixes — and so you summon these six bandits in a swarm. How will you ever reach the Western Heaven and see Buddha?” Tripitaka, hearing, fell silent and brooded: “Disciples, I—”

Ever since the day I left my sovereign lord, I have hurried day and night, faithful at my devotions.Straw sandals worn through the mists on the mountain tops; a bamboo hat thrust through the clouds along the ridges.In the still of night the gibbons' cry, beyond all pity; in the bright of moon the birds' clamor, past all bearing.When shall the three-times-three rounds be complete, and I fetch the wondrous dharma-scripture of the Tathagata?”

Pilgrim, hearing it out, could not help clapping his hands and laughing: “So Master is only homesick and cannot shake it. If it's the three-times-three rounds you want completed — what is hard in that? The saying goes: ‘When the work is done, success comes of itself.’” Bajie turned his head: “Brother, at the rate these demons and hindrances pile up, we could walk a thousand years and never get there.” Sha Monk said: “Second brother, you and I are alike — clumsy of mouth and dull of cheek. Don't rub big brother's sore. Just keep shouldering the load and grinding the pole: one day we shall succeed.”

Master and disciples were talking as they went, feet never resting, hooves at their quickest, when before them lay a stretch of black water rolling to the sky, and the horse could go no farther. The four stood on the bank and looked hard — and this is what they saw:

Thick waves on thick waves, turbid billows upon billows: thick waves rolling dark flood-water, turbid billows curling black oil. Near at hand it mirrors no man's shadow; far off you cannot find the shape of a tree. A churning flood of ink upon the ground; a surging thousand li of gray. The foam floats up like heaps of charcoal; the spray rises like tossed coal. Oxen and sheep will not drink; crows and magpies can hardly fly. Oxen and sheep will not drink — the depth of black offends them; crows and magpies can hardly fly — the boundless gloom appalls them. Only the reeds on the banks know the seasons' turn; on the sand spits flowers and grasses vie in green and wonder. Lakes and rivers the world has everywhere; brooks and springs and marshes the world holds in plenty. Man's life has its meetings everywhere — but who ever saw the Black River of the West?

Tang monk dismounted: “Disciples, why is this water so black and turbid?” Bajie said: “Somebody's indigo vat has been upset.” Sha Monk said: “No — somebody has been washing brushes and inkstones.” Pilgrim said: “Stop your guessing and babbling, and find a way to get Master across.” Bajie said: “This river would be no trouble for old Pig: either ride a cloud over, or sink down and wade the bottom — inside the time of a meal I'd be across.” Sha Monk said: “Leave it to old Sha: a dive and a bound over the water — a moment and I'm across.” Pilgrim said: “For us it is easy — it's Master who is hard.” Tripitaka said: “Disciples, how wide is this river?” Bajie said: “Ten li and more, near as matters.” Tripitaka said: “You three work out which of you will carry me over.” Pilgrim said: “Bajie can carry you.” Bajie said: “It's a bad job, carrying: if I carry you and ride the clouds, I cannot lift three feet off the ground. The saying goes: ‘A mortal on one's back weighs as a hill.’ And if I carry you wading, you would drag me under with you.”

Master and disciples were all taking counsel at the water's edge when, upstream, they saw a man sculling a little boat down toward them. Tang monk rejoiced: “Disciples, here is a boat — let us have him ferry us across.” Sha Monk hailed at the top of his voice: “Boatman! Come ferry us over, come ferry us over!” The man in the boat said: “I am no ferry — how would I ferry people?” Sha Monk said: “In heaven and on earth, accommodation comes first. You may be no ferry, but neither are we your everyday callers. We are Buddha's sons, sent under imperial edict from the Land of the East to fetch scriptures. Do us this accommodation, ferry us over, and you shall have our thanks.” The man, hearing, sculled in close to the bank and, leaning on his oar, said: “Master, my boat is small and your company is large — how could I carry you all at once?” Tripitaka came up and looked: the boat was carved from a single log, with room inside for only two to sit. Tripitaka said: “What are we to do?” Sha Monk said: “Then it is two crossings.” Bajie set his wits to work, angling to dodge the labor and snatch the credit: “Wujing, you and big brother stay here and watch the luggage and the horse; I'll escort Master across first, then come back for the horse. Big brother can leap across.” Pilgrim nodded: “You have it right.”

The Idiot handed Tang monk aboard; the boatman pushed off, hoisted the scull, and drove against the current, straight away. They had just reached midstream when there was a great crack of sound: waves rolled up and billows overturned, veiling the sky, blinding the sun. That gale was fearful! What a wind:

Across the sky a war-cloud rose; through midstream a thousand layers of black billows towered.Sand flew on both banks, drowning the sun's light; trees toppled on every side, shaking heaven with their howl.It overturned rivers and stirred seas — the dragon spirits feared; it flung earth and raised dust — flowers and trees shed their bloom.It boomed and thundered like the roar of spring gales; it came in gusts fierce as the howl of a starved tiger.Crabs and turtles, fish and shrimp bowed down before it; birds on the wing and beasts in the run lost nest and den.Boatmen on the Five Lakes all met disaster; households on the Four Seas could not hold their lives.The old fisherman in the brook could not hold his line; the sculler on the river, how could he keep his pole?Tiles ripped and bricks tumbled and houses fell; it shook heaven and rocked the earth and made Mount Tai sway.

This wind was the boatman's own doing: he was a monster of the Black River. And before their eyes Tang monk and Zhu Bajie, boat and all, plunged under the water, without shape or trace — off to what quarter, who could say.

On the bank Sha Monk and Pilgrim were panic-struck: “What now? Master meets calamity at every step: hardly out of the demon's toils, blessed with a quiet road, and now this Black River to stumble into.” Sha Monk said: “Could the boat have overturned? Let us search downstream.” Pilgrim said: “It is no overturning. If the boat had turned, Bajie can swim: he would have guarded Master and waded out with him. I noticed that boatman had something not right about him. I daresay it was he who raised the wind and dragged Master under.” Sha Monk said: “Why didn't you say so sooner, brother? You watch the horse and luggage; I'll go down into the water and look.” Pilgrim said: “That water has an ugly color — I'm afraid it is beyond you.” Sha Monk said: “How does it compare with my Flowing Sand River? I can manage it — I can manage it.”

Good monk: he stripped off his gown, bound up his hands and feet, swung the demon-subduing staff, and with a slap parted the water and dove into the waves, striding ahead in great steps. As he went he heard voices. Sha Monk slipped aside and peeped: beyond was a pavilion terrace, and across the terrace gate were fixed eight large characters: THE SHRINE OF THE RIVER GOD OF THE BLACK RIVER, HENGYANG RAVINE. And he heard the monster, seated above, say: “Long have I labored; today at last I have my prize. This monk is a good man who has cultivated himself through ten lives: one piece of his flesh, and one lives ageless and deathless. For him I have waited long enough — and today my hope is not betrayed.” He called: “Lads, carry out the iron cage quickly, steam these two monks whole, prepare cards of invitation, and ask Second Uncle to come and warm his birthday.” Sha Monk, hearing, could not contain the fire in his breast: he whipped out the precious staff and hammered the door at random, cursing: “You brazen thing! Hand out my master the Tang monk and my brother Bajie at once!” The fiends inside the door fled in terror to report: “Disaster!” The old monster asked: “What disaster?” The little demon said: “There's a monk outside with a face the color of bad luck, hammering the front gate and cursing — he wants his people back!”

The monster, hearing, called for his arms. The little demons carried them out; the old monster armed himself from head to foot, took up a steel whip ridged like bamboo joints, and came out the door — truly a picture of ferocity and venom. Here is what he looked like:

A square face, round glaring eyes bright with rosy light; a curling lip, a giant mouth red as a gore-bowl.A few iron-wire whiskers, sparse and swaying; blood-red temples, wild hair in a shock.In shape a true Taisui showing forth his power; in look a thunder-lord in fury, grim.A coat of iron mail a-glitter with round flowers; a golden helmet on his head, thick-set with gems.The bamboo-jointed steel whip carried in his hand; at every stride a wild wind dragging at his heels.Born of the waves he was, a thing of water; leaving his old course, he turned ferocious.To ask this fiend his true name and surname: in his former life he was called the Little Alligator Dragon.

The monster bellowed: “Who is it hammering on my door?” Sha Monk said: “You witless brazen monster! Why did you work your trick, change into a boatman, row your boat, and carry off my master? Give him back at once and I'll spare your life.” The monster laughed aloud: “Monk, you don't know whether you're dead or alive. Your master is taken, and I mean to steam him for my guests. Come up here and try me for mastery. Hold me three rounds, and I'll give you back your master; fail to hold me three, and you'll be steamed and eaten with the rest — and forget the Western Heaven.” Sha Monk, hearing, blazed with rage, swung the precious staff, and smashed at his head; the monster raised the steel whip and met him with a hasty parry. And so the two of them, beneath the water, fell to a fine fight:

The demon-subduing staff and the bamboo-jointed whip; two men in fury, each straining to be first. One a thousand-year monster in the Black River's bed; one an immortal of old outside the Hall of Numinous Emptiness. That one, greedy for a taste of Tripitaka's flesh; this one, guarding the Tang monk's precious, hapless life. Both came to contend beneath the water, each bent on winning and neither yielding. They fought till the fish and shrimp, in pairs, shook their heads and hid; till crabs and turtles, two by two, tucked in their heads and sank. Nothing to hear but the demons of the water palace drumming in chorus, and the monsters at the gate clamoring in a brawl. A true son of thegate of Śākya, Wujing indeed: alone, unaided, he put forth his power. He rode the waves and tumbled the billows, no victor yet declared; whip met staff, staff parried whip, and neither gave an inch. All for the monk of Tang, in the end: he would fetch the true scriptures and bow before Buddha in heaven.

The two fought some thirty rounds with no sign of a winner. Sha Monk thought to himself: “This monster is my match: to fight on is to win nothing. Let me lead him out and have big brother strike him.” So Sha Monk feinted a slip, dragged his staff, and made off. The monster did not pursue at all, saying: “Be off with you. I am done fencing with you — I have invitations to write for my guests.”

Sha Monk came boiling out of the water and found Pilgrim: “Brother, the monster is a disgrace.” Pilgrim asked: “You were down there long enough — what manner of monster is he, truly? Did you find Master?” Sha Monk said: “Inside there is a pavilion terrace, and across the terrace gate, eight large characters: ‘The Shrine of the River God of the Black River, Hengyang Ravine.’ I slipped aside and heard him talking within: he was telling his lads to scrub the iron cage, meaning to steam Master and Bajie whole and invite his uncle to warm his birthday. I flared up and hammered the gate. The monster came out with a bamboo-jointed steel whip and fought me half the day, some thirty rounds, with no decision. I made as if to lose, meaning to lead him out and have you fall on him; but the monster was too cute: he would not chase me — he only wanted to go back and write his invitations. So I came up.” Pilgrim said: “What manner of monster would he be?” Sha Monk said: “By his looks, something like a giant soft-shell — or else an alligator dragon.” Pilgrim said: “And who would this uncle of his be?”

He had scarcely spoken when out of the bend below came an old man, who knelt at a distance and called: “Great Sage — the River God of the Black River kowtows.” Pilgrim said: “Are you that boatman fiend again, come to trick me once more?” The old man knocked his head, weeping: “Great Sage, I am no fiend: I am the true god of this river. Last year, in the fifth month, that monster came here riding the spring tide out of the Western Sea and fell to blows with me, your humble god. But I am old and my strength is gone; I could not stand against him. He seized from me the shrine itself, the River God's house at Hengyang Ravine, and lives in it, and he has killed many of my fish-folk. Having no other course, I went to the sea to lodge a complaint — and it turned out the Dragon King of the Western Sea is his uncle. He would not accept my charge, and told me to give over the place to him. I would have carried the case to highest heaven, but I am a god of small office and low rank and could never come before the Jade Emperor. Now, hearing the Great Sage had come here, I have come specially to bow before you and cast in my lot. I beg the Great Sage to exert his power and redress my wrong.” Pilgrim, hearing, said: “If that is how it is, the Dragon King of the Western Sea is culpable too. The monster has now carried off my master and my brother, and threatens to steam them and invite his uncle to warm his birthday. I was on the point of taking him, and it is lucky you have brought word. Very well, River God: stay here with Sha Monk and keep watch, while I go to the sea, seize the Dragon King first, and make him take this monster.” The River God said: “May the Great Sage's great kindness be repaid a thousandfold.”

Pilgrim rode his cloud straight to the vast ocean of the west. He checked his somersault, pinched the water-averting sign, and parted the waves. As he went he ran into a black fish spirit hurrying up from downstream like an arrow, like a shuttle, hugging a case of all-gold invitation letters. Pilgrim ran full into his face, whipped out the iron staff, and dealt him a blow on the crown — poor soul: out burst the brains, the jawbone split, and with a gulp he floated to the surface. Pilgrim opened the case and looked: inside was a card of invitation, written:

“Your humble nephew, Jie the Alligator, bows a hundred times and lays this before Second Uncle, His Excellency Ao: Long have I enjoyed your kindness, and I am grateful. I have now taken two prizes — monks of the Land of the East, truly rarities in this world — and your nephew dares not enjoy them alone. Since Uncle's holy birthday is near, I have laid a modest feast, to wish you in advance a thousand years of life. I beg your chariot to come quickly: it will be an honor.”

Pilgrim laughed: “The rascal has gone and handed his confession to old Sun first.” He tucked the card in his sleeve and went on his way. Presently a yaksha scouting the sea caught sight of Pilgrim, whipped about, and tumbled into the crystal palace: “Report to the Great King: Grandpa Sun, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, is here!”

The Dragon King Ao Shun at once led out his host of water folk and came from the palace to meet him: “Great Sage, pray step into my poor palace and sit a while, and let me offer tea.” Pilgrim said: “I haven't drunk your tea yet — but you've drunk my wine already!” The Dragon King laughed: “Great Sage, you have long been of the Buddha's gate and touch neither meat nor wine: when did you ever invite me to drink?” Pilgrim said: “You never went to drink — but you have incurred the guilt of a drinking party all the same.” Ao Shun, greatly startled, said: “Where does the guilt of your humble dragon lie?” Pilgrim drew the card from his sleeve and handed it to the Dragon King.

At sight of it the Dragon King's soul fled and his spirit scattered; he hastened to his knees and knocked his head: “Great Sage, pardon my offense. That fellow is my younger sister's ninth son. Because her husband erred in his ordering of wind and rain and cut short the number of falls, the courts of heaven decreed his death, and the official of the human court, Prime Minister Wei Zheng, beheaded him in a dream. My sister had nowhere to turn, so this humble dragon took her in and brought up the boy. The year before last my sister, poor soul, sickened and died; and the boy being without means of livelihood, I set him in the Black River to order his nature and cultivate the truth — who could have known he would commit this wickedness? This humble dragon will send men at once to seize him.” Pilgrim said: “How many worthy sons has your sister in all? And where are they all playing their pranks?” The Dragon King said: “My sister had nine sons, and eight of them are good ones. The first, the Little Yellow Dragon, keeps the Huai River's shrine; the second, the Little Black Dragon, keeps the Ji River's; the third, the Green-Backed Dragon, holds the Yangtze's; the fourth, the Red-Whiskered Dragon, guards the Yellow River's; the fifth, the Toiling Dragon, keeps the bell for the Buddha; the sixth, the Roof-Preserving Dragon, props the ridges of the divine palaces; the seventh, the Reverent Dragon, upholds the sky-sustaining columns of the Jade Emperor; the eighth, the Mirage Dragon, stands firm on the Great Mountain at our eldest brother's. This is the ninth, the Alligator Dragon: being young and without a charge, only last year I set him to dwell in the Black River and order his nature, until his name was made and he could be shifted and advanced. Who could have known he would disobey my word and run foul of the Great Sage?”

Pilgrim, hearing, laughed: “And how many husbands has your sister had?” Ao Shun said: “She was given in marriage once only: to the Dragon King of the Jing River, who was beheaded for his fault years ago, and my sister lived a widow here until she sickened and died the year before last.” Pilgrim said: “One husband, one wife — how did they breed this litter of mongrels?” Ao Shun said: “That is just what they mean by ‘A dragon breeds nine kinds, and no two of the nine are alike.’” Pilgrim said: “A moment ago my temper was up, and I meant to take this card as evidence and carry it to the courts of heaven, and charge you with scheming with monsters and kidnapping folk. But by your account the fault is his — he disobeyed instruction — and this once I will spare you: first, for the sake of your brothers; and second, because the blame is the young fool's own, and you cannot have known much about it. Send men quickly and seize him, and rescue my master; what follows we will settle after.” Ao Shun at once called his son Mo Ang: “Pick five hundred strong soldiers of shrimp and fish, quickly, and take the little alligator prisoner for judgment.” On the other side they made ready a feast to make amends to the Great Sage. Pilgrim said: “Dragon King, set your mind at rest. Once I have said I spare you, it is settled — what need of a feast? I must go with your son now: first, my master is in peril; second, my brother will be on the watch for me.”

The old dragon pressed him to stay in vain — and there was the Dragon Maiden coming with tea on her palms. Pilgrim stood and drank a cup of the fragrant tea, took leave of the old dragon, and went with Mo Ang at the head of the troops. They left the Western Sea and soon were over the Black River. Pilgrim said: “Worthy prince, take your monster handsomely; I am going ashore.” Mo Ang said: “Set your heart at ease, Great Sage. This humble dragon-son will bring him up before you first, let his guilt be judged, and have your master handed up — only then dare I take him back to the sea and face my father.” Pilgrim parted from him in good spirits, pinched the water-averting sign, sprang out of the wave-hollow, and came to the eastern bank. Sha Monk and the River God met him: “Brother, you went off into the sky — how is it you come back out of the river?” Pilgrim told them all of it: the fish spirit killed, the card seized, the Dragon King called to account, and the prince come with his troops. Sha Monk was overjoyed; and they all stood on the bank waiting to welcome Master — no more of that.

Now Prince Mo Ang sent an officer on ahead to the water monster's own gate with the word: “Mo Ang, prince of the old Dragon King of the Western Sea, is come!” The monster was sitting in state when he heard of Mo Ang's coming, and his heart filled with doubt: “I sent the black fish spirit with my card to beg Second Uncle — and by this hour not a word back. Why is it not my uncle but my cousin who comes?” While he spoke, the little demon patrolling the river came again to report: “Great King, there is a body of troops in the river, encamped west of the water palace, and on the banner is written: ‘Mo Ang the Little Commander, Heir of the Western Sea.’” The monster said: “My cousin grows grand. I suppose my uncle could not come, and sent him to the feast. But if it is a feast, why bring troops and weary soldiers? Ah — I fear there is something behind it.” He called: “Lads, have my arms and steel whip in waiting; there may be a sudden storm. I will go out and welcome him and see how it stands.” The demons took the order, every one rubbing his palms and flexing his fists, ready.

The alligator monster came out his gate and saw, in truth, a sea host encamped on his right. And this is what it was like:

Banners of war floating with embroidered streamers; painted halberds ranked in bright dawn-red.Precious swords holding their gathered shine; long spears with tassels wreathed like flowers.Bows bent like little moons; arrows bristling like a wolf's fangs.Great blades glittering; short cudgels hard and rasping.Whales and sea-turtles with clams and mussels; crabs and turtles with fish and shrimp.Great and small drawn up in order; arms and armor close as scattered hemp.Had it not been the marshal's order, who would dare come trampling here?

The alligator monster walked straight to the camp gate and hailed at the top of his voice: “Great cousin! Your little brother waits here with folded hands and begs the favor.” A whelk on camp patrol hurried to the central tent: “Report to His Highness of the thousand years: the alligator dragon is outside, calling to invite you.” The prince squared the golden helmet on his head, tightened the jeweled belt at his waist, took up a three-edged mace, swung into his stride, and ran out of the camp: “What have you invited me for?” The alligator dragon made his courtesy: “This morning, little brother sent up a card begging Uncle; I suppose Uncle disdained to come, and sent you, cousin. But brother, if you come to the feast, why put troops in motion and people to trouble? You do not enter my water palace but pitch camp here, and you come in mail with weapons in hand — how so?” The prince said: “What did you want my uncle for?” The monster said: “Your humble brother has long enjoyed the grace of dwelling here, and it is ages since I saw my uncle's face or paid him my duty. Yesterday I took a monk of the Land of the East, and I am told he is a first-body cultivated through ten lives: whoever eats him lives the longer. I meant to have my uncle look him over, then steam him in the iron cage and warm Uncle's birthday with him.” The prince shouted: “You dunce, past all fooling! Do you know who that monk is?” The monster said: “A monk from the Tang, going to the Western Heaven for scriptures.” The prince said: “All you know is that he is the Tang monk. You do not know what a handful his disciples are.” The monster said: “He has a long-snouted disciple called Zhu Bajie; I have taken him too, to steam and eat with the Tang monk. There is another called Sha Monk, a black fellow with a face the color of bad luck, who swings a precious staff. Yesterday he stood outside my gate demanding his master, and I brought my river troops out and, with a bout of the steel whip, fought him till he broke and ran. He did not seem so very terrible.”

The prince said: “So that is what you did not know. He has another, the eldest disciple: five hundred years ago he wrecked the Heavenly Palace, an immortal great as the Grand Monad, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Now he guards the Tang monk westward to worship Buddha and seek the scriptures: the great-merciful, great-compassionate Bodhisattva Guanyin of Potalaka Rock, moved by goodness, gave him his new name — the Pilgrim Sun Wukong. What possessed you, to run yourself into such a calamity? He fell in with your messenger in my sea, seized the invitation, walked straight into the crystal palace, and had us father and sons by the collar — charging us with leaguing with monsters and kidnapping folk. Hand over the Tang monk and Bajie at the riverside this instant, give them back to the Great Sage Sun, and leave the apologizing to me — and you may keep your life. If half the word ‘no’ passes your teeth, you can forget living out the year in this place.” The alligator monster, hearing this, flared in rage: “You and I are cousin-german, bone of one bone — and you take the other side! By your talk, I am to hand over the Tang monk. Where in heaven and earth was such an easy bargain ever struck? You may fear him — do you suppose I fear him too? If he has the skill, let him come to my water palace gate and stand three rounds with me, and he shall have his master. If he cannot stand against me, I will take him as well and steam the lot: no kin, no guests invited — I will shut my own gate, set the lads singing and dancing, sit at the head of the table, and eat my fill at my ease.”

Hearing this, the prince opened his mouth to curse: “You brazen fiend! Past all decency, indeed. Never mind the Great Sage Sun's facing you — do you dare to stand against me?” The monster said: “If a man means to be a hero, what is he afraid of?” He called: “My arms!” At the word the little demons crowded at his elbows, brought his mail, and offered up the steel whip. The two of them changed face and matched heroes; the signal passed, and the drums beat together. This bout was nothing like the bout with Sha Monk. And this is what it was like:

Banners blazing; halberds tossing light. Here the camp breaks apart; there the gates stand open. Prince Mo Ang poises the golden mace; the alligator monster swings his whip to parry, blow for blow. One cannon-crack, and the river soldiers rage; three gong-beats, and the sea soldiery go wild. Shrimp against shrimp contends; crab against crab gives battle. Whale and turtle swallow the red carp; bream and whitefish put up the yellow cat. Shark and mullet eat the anchovy, and the mackerel flee; the oyster seizes the razor-shell, and clam and mussel panic. The shaoyang's spine is stiff as an iron club; the kun's sting is sharp as a blade's edge. Ray and bonito chase the white eel; perch and cuttle seize the black pomfret. All the river's monsters contend for mastery; the two dragon hosts settle weak and strong. Long they swirled in the fray, waves rolling — and Prince Mo Ang outdid the vajra warriors. One shout, and the golden mace came down full on the head: the monster alligator was taken, the king of mischief.

The prince let a gap show at the three-edged mace; the monster, scenting no trick, darted in — and was met with a turn of art: one rap of the mace on his right arm staggered him. The prince was after him; a kick, and down he sprawled. The sea soldiery swarmed over him, flipped him, bound his arms behind with cord, thrust an iron chain through the pipa bones of his shoulders, and brought him ashore. Haled before Pilgrim Sun, they said: “Great Sage, this humble dragon-son has taken the monster alligator: let the Great Sage judge.”

Pilgrim and Sha Monk saw him and said: “You wretch, you would not keep the mandate. Your uncle set you here to dwell, to order your nature and keep yourself, until your name was made and you should be advanced elsewhere. Why did you seize the water god's house by force, rely on power to do violence, cheat your betters with a false face, work your tricks, and gull away my master and my brother? I had a mind to give you this stroke of the staff — only old Sun's staff is very heavy: a light tap would snuff you out. Where have you put my master?” The monster knocked his head without cease: “Great Sage, this little alligator never knew the Great Sage's great name. Just now I crossed my cousin, trusting in strength against reason, and my cousin took me. Now, come before the Great Sage, I owe my life to your mercy in sparing it, and can never thank you enough. Your master is still bound inside the water palace. I beg the Great Sage to loosen my iron chain, free my hands, and let me go into the river and bring him out.” Mo Ang said at his side: “Great Sage, this fellow is a renegade monster, treacherous to the bone. Free him, and who knows what wicked thought may rise?” Sha Monk said: “I know the place. Let me go find Master.”

The two of them dove into the water and came straight to the water palace gate. The doors stood wide open, and not a soldier was in sight. They went straight in among the pavilions and terraces and found Tang monk and Bajie stark naked and trussed. Sha Monk made haste to loose his master, and the River God, coming after, loosed Bajie; one on each back they carried a man up through the surface and straight to the bank. Zhu Bajie, seeing the monster chained and bound close by, whipped out his rake and made to strike, cursing: “You brazen brute! Done eating me now?” Pilgrim held him: “Brother, let his capital offense go this once, for the sake of worthy Ao Shun and his son.” Mo Ang came forward with his courtesies: “Great Sage, this humble dragon-son dare not linger. Now that your master is rescued, I will take this fellow to see my father. Though the Great Sage pardons him the capital offense, my father will never pardon the living one: there will be judgment and disposal, and word sent back to the Great Sage with apologies.” Pilgrim said: “So be it — take him away. Bear many greetings to your father; I will thank him face to face some other day.” The prince haled the brazen monster into the water, led his sea troops, and made straight back to the vast ocean of the west — no more of that.

Now the River God of the Black River thanked Pilgrim: “What a debt, Great Sage — my water palace won back for me!” Tang monk said: “Disciples, we are still on the east bank. How do we cross this river?” The River God said: “Have no care, my lord. Mount your horse: your humble god will open the road and bring you over.” So the master mounted the white horse, Bajie led it by the bridle, Sha Monk shouldered the luggage, and Pilgrim Sun steadied him on either side. The River God then raised his art of damming water, holding back the stream above — and in a moment the channel below ran dry, and a great road lay open. Master and disciples walked over on the western side, thanked the River God, climbed the bank, and took the road. And so it was:

The monk of Zen, rescued, faces the western lands; the whole bed dry and waveless, they cross the Black River.

But how they would come to worship Buddha and fetch the scriptures? Listen to the next chapter to find out.

A Demon of the Black River Carries the Monk Off; the Dragon Prince of the Western Sea Takes the Alligator Home.

The Bodhisattva said the spell several times and then stopped; the demon's pain left him. He came rightly to himself, rose, and looked about: around his neck and on his hands and feet were gold bands, cutting in and hurting. When he tried to remove them, he could not loosen them a hair's width. The treasure had already taken root in his flesh, and the more he rubbed, the more it hurt. Pilgrim laughed: "My pet, the Bodhisattva was afraid you wouldn't grow up, so she put a neck ring and bracelets on you." The boy heard this and grew angry; he grabbed up the spear and stabbed wildly at Pilgrim. Pilgrim sprang aside quick, stood behind the Bodhisattva, and cried: "Say the spell! Say the spell!" The Bodhisattva dipped the willow branch in a drop of sweet dew, sprinkled it, and called "Join!" He dropped the spear, and his two hands pressed together palm to palm at his breast, never to open again. To this day there remains a pose called the Guanyin Clasp—it means just this. The boy could not open his hands or hold his spear; only then did he understand how deep and subtle her power was. There was nothing for it, and at last he bowed his head and worshipped.

The Bodhisattva spoke the true words, tipped the pure vase, and drew back the whole sea of water, leaving not a drop behind. She said to Pilgrim: "Wukong, the demon is subdued, but his wild heart is not settled. I will have him go one step and one bow, all the way to Mount Luojia, and only then lift the spell. Now go quickly into the cave and rescue your master." Pilgrim turned and kowtowed: "You have been troubled to come so far, Bodhisattva. Let your disciple see you partway." The Bodhisattva said: "No need to see me off. I fear the delay would cost your master his life." Pilgrim heard this, was glad, and bowed in farewell. The demon had already come to the right fruit: the Fifty-Three Salutations, bowing salutation after salutation to Guanyin.

No more now of the good Bodhisattva taking away the boy. Sha Monk had sat long in the wood, and waiting for Pilgrim in vain, he slung the luggage on the horse, took the demon-subduing staff in one hand and the reins in the other, came out of the pines, and looked south—and there came Pilgrim, happy. Sha Monk met him: "Brother, how is it you went to ask the Bodhisattva and are only back now? You nearly roasted me with waiting." Pilgrim said: "You must be dreaming—old Sun has asked the Bodhisattva and subdued the monster." Then he told over the Bodhisattva's powers from beginning to end. Sha Monk was overjoyed: "Then let's go save Master."

The two jumped the stream, dashed to the gate, tied the horses, raised their weapons, and burst into the cave together. They cleared out the pack of demons, untied the leather bag, and let Bajie out. The Idiot thanked Pilgrim: "Brother, where is that demon? Let me give him a few rake-blows and let off steam." Pilgrim said: "First let's find Master."

The three went straight to the back and found Master naked, tied up in the courtyard, weeping. Sha Monk quickly untied the rope; Pilgrim fetched his clothes and dressed him. The three knelt before him: "Master, you have suffered." Tripitaka thanked them: "Good disciples, what a burden I've been to you. How did you ever subdue the demon?" Pilgrim told it all again—asking the Bodhisattva and taking the boy. Hearing it, Tripitaka at once knelt down and bowed toward the south. Pilgrim said: "No need to thank her. If anything, we did her a favor—we won her a boy." When people now speak of the boy saluting Guanyin in the Fifty-Three Salutations, salutation after salutation seeing the Buddha—this is what they mean.

They had Sha Monk gather up the treasures in the cave, then look out rice and grain and make a meal to serve Master. The elder kept his life thanks wholly to the Great Sage Sun; for the true scriptures he depends on the fine monkey spirit.

Master and disciples came out of the cave, saddled and mounted, found the high road, and set their hearts toward the West. After more than a month they suddenly heard the sound of water thundering in their ears. Tripitaka was badly startled: "Disciples—water again? Where is that sound coming from?" Pilgrim laughed: "Master, you're too jumpy to be a monk. The four of us travel together, and only you hear water sounds. Have you forgotten the Heart Sutra again?" The Tang monk said: "The Heart Sutra was taught from the mouth of the Chan Master Wucao of Mount Futu, fifty-four lines in all, two hundred and seventy characters. I had it by ear from the start, and I recite it constantly. How would you know I forgot some line?" Pilgrim said: "Master, you forgot 'no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind.' We who have left home: the eye does not look at shapes, the ear does not hear sounds, the nose does not smell scents, the tongue does not taste flavors, the body does not feel cold or heat, the mind holds no wild fancies. That is what is called driving out the six thieves. Now, to win the scriptures you hold everything in your mind; for fear of demons you will not give up your body; you want your meals, and so you move your tongue; you love sweet smells, and so you stir your nose; you hear sounds and startle your ear; you see things and fix your gaze. These six thieves come swarming about you—how will you ever see the Buddha in the Western Heaven?" Tripitaka heard, and fell silent, brooding: "Disciples, I—

since the day I left my holy king I have hurried day and night, always pressing on.Straw sandals wore through the mist on the mountaintops; my bamboo hat broke through the clouds on the ridges.In the still of night the gibbons cry—a heavy thing; under the bright moon the birds caw past all bearing.When will my three-times-three journey be complete, and I win the wonderful law-scriptures of the Tathagata?"

Pilgrim heard it through and could not help clapping his hands and laughing: "So Master is only homesick and can't be done with it. If you want the three-times-three journey complete, what is so hard? The saying goes: 'When the work is done, success comes of itself.'" Bajie turned his head: "Brother, with the troubles on this road as high and fierce as they are, you could walk a thousand years and never finish." Sha Monk said: "Second brother, you're like me—clumsy mouth, dull cheeks. Don't rub big brother's temper raw. Just shoulder the load and grind along; the day will come."

As master and disciples talked their feet never stopped, and the horse's hooves were at full speed, when ahead they saw a stretch of black water that swept to the sky, and the horse could go no farther. The four stopped and stood on the bank, looking carefully. There is what they saw:

Thick waves upon thick waves, muddy billows heaped on muddy billows—thick waves turning over a black flood; muddy billows rolling up black oil. Up close it throws back no shadow of a man; far off you cannot find the shape of a tree. A rolling sheet of ink across the ground; a sweeping thousand li of gray. The foam floating up is like piled charcoal; the spray drifting off like spilled coal. Oxen and sheep will not drink from it; crows and magpies can hardly fly across. Oxen and sheep will not drink—they shrink from the deep black; crows and magpies can hardly cross—they fear the endless spread. Only the reeds on the banks know the season; the flowers and grasses on the sandbars vie in green and strangeness. Lakes and rivers the world has everywhere; creeks, springs, marshes, and pools the world has plenty. Everyone in this life meets someone somewhere—but who has ever seen the Black River of the West?

The Tang monk dismounted and said: "Disciples, why is this water so black and muddy?" Bajie said: "Somebody has spilled an indigo vat." Sha Monk said: "No—somebody has been washing brushes and inkstones." Pilgrim said: "Stop guessing and talking nonsense. Think how to get Master across." Bajie said: "For old Pig this river would be no trouble to cross: ride a cloud over, or dive in and push through under the water—inside the time of one meal I'd be across." Sha Monk said: "For old Sha it would take only a leap on the clouds or a walk over the water, and across in a moment." Pilgrim said: "For us it's easy—only Master is the difficulty." Tripitaka said: "Disciples, how wide is this river?" Bajie said: "A good ten li wide, I'd say." Tripitaka said: "You three work it out—which of you will carry me across?" Pilgrim said: "Bajie can carry you." Bajie said: "Carrying you is no good. If I carry you on a cloud, I cannot get three feet off the ground. The saying goes: 'Carrying a mortal weighs as much as a hill.' And if I carry you through the water, I'll sink with you to the bottom."

Master and disciples were still talking it over on the bank when someone upstream pushed off a little boat. The Tang monk was glad: "Disciples, a boat is coming; have him ferry us across." Sha Monk called out at the top of his voice: "Boatman! Come ferry people over! Come ferry people over!" The man on the boat said: "I am no ferry. How would I ferry people?" Sha Monk said: "In heaven or on earth, a good turn comes first. You may be no ferry, but neither do we come bothering you every day. We are Buddha's sons, sent out under the Emperor's seal from the Land of the East to fetch scriptures. Do us the kindness, ferry us over, and we will thank you." The man heard, sculled the boat in near the bank, and leaned on his oar: "Master, my boat is small and your company is large—how can I ferry you all?" Tripitaka came near and looked: the boat was carved from a single log, with room inside for only two people. Tripitaka said: "What are we to do?" Sha Monk said: "In that case, we'll cross in two trips." Bajie played his little schemes, out to dodge work and look clever: "Wujing, you and big brother stay here and watch the luggage and the horses. I'll take Master across first, then come back for the horse. Big brother can jump across." Pilgrim nodded: "You're right."

The Idiot helped the Tang monk aboard; the boatman pushed off, raised the oar, and drove against the current, heading straight over. Just as they reached the middle there came a great crash; waves rolled and billows turned, blotting out sky and sun. That gale was terribly fierce! A fine wind:

In mid-sky a blast of powder-smoke cloud rose up; in midstream a thousand layers of black waves climbed high.Flying sand on both banks dimmed the light of the sun; trees fell on every side, shaking heaven with their roar.It overturned rivers and churned up seas, and the dragon gods were afraid; it flung earth and raised dust, and flowers and trees withered.It howled like spring thunder roaring; gust after gust as fierce as a starving tiger's growl.Crabs, turtles, fish, and shrimp bowed down before it; birds in the air and beasts on the ground lost nest and den.The boat families of the five lakes all met disaster; the households of the four seas found life uncertain.The old fisherman in the creek could hardly hold his line; the boatman on the river, how could he hold his pole?Tiles torn off and bricks turned over, houses fell down; it shook heaven and moved earth, and Mount Tai itself swayed.

This wind was the boatman's own doing. He was a monster of the Black River. Before their eyes the Tang monk and Zhu Bajie went under with the boat—shape and shadow both gone—and no one knew where he had carried them.

On this bank Sha Monk and Pilgrim were alarmed: "What now? Our old master meets disaster at every step. Barely out of the demon's hands, and after one stretch of peace, he runs into the troubles of the Black River." Sha Monk said: "Could the boat have overturned? Let's search downstream." Pilgrim said: "It is not overturned. If it had been, Bajie can swim; he would have guarded Master and carried him out of the water. I could see that boatman had something crooked about him. I'd say he is the very one who raised the wind and dragged Master under." Sha Monk said: "Brother, why didn't you say so sooner? Watch the horse and the luggage; I'll go down into the water and search." Pilgrim said: "The color of this water is wrong; I'm not sure you should go in." Sha Monk said: "How does this water compare with my old Flowing Sand River? I can manage, I can manage."

Good monk—he stripped off his cassock, bound up hands and feet, swung the demon-subduing staff, and with a splash pushed the water aside and dove in among the waves, striding on with big steps. As he went he heard voices. Sha Monk slipped aside and peeped: there stood a pavilion terrace, and across the gate outside were eight large characters: "The Shrine of the River God of the Black River, Hengyang Gully." He heard the monster sitting above: "Long have I labored; today at last I have my prize. This monk is a good man who has cultivated himself for ten lives. Eat one piece of his flesh and you live forever, never aging. For him I have waited a long time; today has not betrayed my hope." He gave the order: "Little ones, carry out the iron cage quickly. Steam these two monks whole, and send a card to invite Second Uncle; we'll warm his birthday with it." Sha Monk heard, and the fire in his chest could not be held down. He swung the precious staff and hammered the door, cursing: "You foul thing! Hand out my master, the Tang monk, and my brother Bajie—now!" The demons inside, terrified, ran to report: "Disaster!" The old monster asked: "What disaster?" The little demon said: "There's a monk outside with a face the color of bad luck, hammering the front gate and cursing—he wants his people!"

The monster called for his armor. The little demons carried it out; the old monster dressed himself neatly, took a bamboo-joint steel whip in his hand, and came out the gate—truly a fierce and wicked sight. Look:

A square face and round eyes, bright as sunset clouds; curled lips and a great mouth, red as a basin of blood.A few iron-wire whiskers, sparse and swaying; two bushy temples of tangled hair, red as cinnabar.In shape like the true Year-Star showing itself; in looks like the Thunder God in a rage.He wore an iron armor bright with flower-round patterns; on his head a gold helmet thick with set gems.The bamboo-joint steel whip he held in his hand; as he walked a wild wind rolled and dragged behind him.Born, he was a creature of the waves; leaving his old element, he turned fierce.Ask the demon's true name and surname: his former self was called the Little Alligator Dragon.

The monster shouted: "Who is banging at my gate?" Sha Monk said: "You witless foul monster! Why did you play your tricks, take the shape of a boatman, and carry off my master in a boat? Return him at once, and I'll spare your life." The monster laughed out loud: "This monk doesn't know whether he's dead or alive. Your master I have taken, and I mean to steam him for my guests. Come up and settle it with me. If you can hold me three rounds, I'll return your master. If you cannot, I'll steam and eat you along with the rest, and you can forget the Western Heaven." Sha Monk heard and was furious; he swung the precious staff and struck straight at his head. The monster raised the steel whip and hastily parried. The two of them, down under the water, had a fine fight:

The demon-subduing staff meets the bamboo-joint whip, two angry fighters each straining to lead. One is a thousand-year monster of the Black River; the other an immortal of old from outside the Hall of Divine Mists. That one covets a taste of Tripitaka's flesh; this one guards the Tang monk's poor threatened life. Both come to fight it out on the riverbed, each set on winning, neither giving way. Fish and shrimp flee in pairs, shaking their heads; crabs and turtles hide in twos, pulling in their heads. In the water palace the demons beat their drums together; at the gate the monsters brawl and clamor. Fine indeed is Wujing, true man of the Buddhist gate—single-handed, alone, he shows his power. He leaps the waves and turns the current, no win and no loss; whip meets staff and staff parries whip, the two locked together. In the end it is all for the Tang monk, who would fetch the true scriptures and bow to Buddha's heaven.

The two fought thirty rounds with no advantage showing on either side. Sha Monk thought: "This monster is my match. Forcing it wins nothing. I'll lead him outside and let big brother strike him." This Sha Monk threw a false guard, dragged his staff, and left. The monster did not even chase: "Go on then; I won't fight you. I have invitations to write for my guests."

Sha Monk came boiling out of the water and found Pilgrim: "Brother, that monster has no manners at all." Pilgrim asked: "You were down there a long while. What kind of demon is he, really? Did you find Master?" Sha Monk said: "Inside there is a pavilion terrace, and across the gate outside eight large characters: 'The Shrine of the River God of the Black River, Hengyang Gully.' I hid to one side and heard him inside telling the little demons to scrub the iron cage: he meant to steam Master and Bajie and invite his uncle to warm his birthday. I flared up and hammered the gate. The monster came out with a bamboo-joint steel whip, and we fought the better part of the day, about thirty rounds, no win on either side. Then I played beaten, meaning to lead him out so you could join in. But that monster is far too crafty. He would not chase me; he only wanted to go back and write his invitations. So I came up." Pilgrim said: "I wonder what manner of demon he is." Sha Monk said: "By his looks, something like a giant soft-shelled turtle; or else an alligator dragon." Pilgrim said: "I wonder which one is his uncle."

Before the words were done, an old man came out of the bend below, knelt down from far off, and called: "Great Sage—the river god of the Black River kowtows." Pilgrim said: "Are you that boatman demon, come to trick me again?" The old man kowtowed, tears dropping: "Great Sage, I am no demon. I am the true god of this river. Last year, in the fifth month, that monster rode a great tide from the Western Sea and fought me. But I am old and my strength is gone; I could not beat him. He seized the shrine where I lived, the River God's house in Hengyang Gully on the Black River, and moved in, and he killed many of my water folk. I could do nothing, so I went to the sea to file suit against him. It turns out the Dragon King of the Western Sea is his uncle. He would not accept my complaint; he told me to let the creature live there. I wanted to appeal to high Heaven, but my office is low and my rank small; I could never get to see the Jade Emperor. Hearing today that the Great Sage has come here, I came specially to bow and throw myself on you. I beg the Great Sage to use his strength and right my wrong." Pilgrim heard and said: "If that's how it is, the Dragon King of the Western Sea deserves blame too. He has now carried off my master and my brother and boasts he will steam them for his uncle's birthday feast. I mean to catch him—and it's lucky you came to tell me. So then, river god: stay here with Sha Monk and keep watch. I'll go to the sea, seize that Dragon King first, and have him catch this monster." The river god said: "Deep thanks for the Great Sage's great kindness."

Pilgrim mounted the clouds and went straight to the great Western Ocean. He checked his somersault, pinched the charm for keeping off water, and parted the waves. As he went along he ran into a black fish spirit, holding up in both hands an invitation case of solid gold, shooting up from downstream like an arrow, like a shuttle. Pilgrim ran into him face first, drew the iron staff, and struck down on the crown of his head. Poor thing—his brains burst out, his jawbones split, and with a gulp he floated up to the surface. Pilgrim opened the case and looked: inside was an invitation card that read:

"Your nephew Tuo Jie bows his head a hundred times and writes to Second Uncle, the Honorable Ao, at his seat: Long have I enjoyed your kindness, and I thank you for it. Today I have caught two creatures, monks from the Land of the East—truly rare things in this world. Your nephew dares not enjoy them alone. Since your honored birthday is near, I have laid out a humble feast to wish you a thousand years in advance. I beg your carriage to come quickly. Your grateful nephew."

Pilgrim laughed: "This fellow has handed his own confession straight to old Sun." He tucked the invitation in his sleeve and went on ahead. Soon a sea-scouting yaksha caught sight of Pilgrim, whipped around, and dashed into the crystal palace: "Report, Great King: Grandpa Sun, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, has come."

The Dragon King Ao Shun at once led his water folk out of the palace to meet him: "Great Sage, please come into my small palace and sit a while, and let me offer you tea." Pilgrim said: "I haven't drunk your tea yet, but you've already drunk my wine!" The Dragon King laughed: "Great Sage, you joined the Buddhist gate long ago and touch no meat or wine—when did you ever invite me to drink?" Pilgrim said: "You never went to drink—but you've earned yourself a charge of drinking all the same." Ao Shun was greatly alarmed: "How has this little dragon incurred guilt?" Pilgrim drew the invitation from his sleeve and handed it to the Dragon King.

The Dragon King read it, and his soul fled and his spirit scattered; he knelt hastily, kowtowing: "Great Sage, forgive my guilt. That creature is my younger sister's ninth son. Because his father, my brother-in-law, mismanaged the winds and rains and cut the count of rain short, the courts of Heaven decreed his death, and the official of the human world, Prime Minister Wei Zheng, beheaded him in a dream. My sister had nowhere to turn, so this little dragon brought her here and raised her son to manhood. The year before last my sister unhappily fell ill and died. The boy had no place to live, so I set him on the Black River to cultivate his nature—never thinking he would do such wickedness. This little dragon will send men at once to seize him." Pilgrim said: "How many fine sons does your sister have in all? Where are the rest of them raising trouble?" The Dragon King said: "My sister had nine sons. The other eight are all good ones: the first, Little Yellow Dragon, lives now on the Huai River; the second, Little Black Dragon, on the Ji River; the third, Blue-Back Dragon, holds the Yangtze; the fourth, Red-Whisker Dragon, guards the Yellow River; the fifth, Laboring Dragon, keeps the bell for the Buddha; the sixth, Beast-Settling Dragon, holds the roof-ridge of the divine palaces; the seventh, Reverent Dragon, keeps the sky-holding columns for the Jade Emperor; the eighth, the Mirage Dragon, braces the great mountain at our eldest brother's place. This ninth is the alligator dragon. Because he was young and held no post, only last year I set him on the Black River to cultivate himself, waiting for him to make his name before moving him to a post. Who knew he would disobey my orders and run into the Great Sage?"

Pilgrim laughed: "How many husbands did your sister have?" Ao Shun said: "She married only one, the Dragon King of the Jing River. He was beheaded over that affair years ago, and my sister lived here a widow, and died of illness the year before last." Pilgrim said: "One husband, one wife—how did she produce this litter of mongrels?" Ao Shun said: "This is just the saying: 'A dragon begets nine kinds, and no two of the kinds are alike.'" Pilgrim said: "A moment ago I was angry, and meant to take this invitation as evidence, go up and report to the Heavenly Court, and charge you with plotting with monsters and stealing people. From what you say, the fault is that creature's—he would not follow instruction. This once I'll let you off: first, for the sake of you brothers; second, the creature is young and ignorant, and you did not really know. Send men quickly to seize him, save my master, and then we'll settle the rest." Ao Shun called his son Prince Moang: "Quickly pick five hundred strong soldiers of fish and shrimp, seize the little alligator, and bring him back to answer for it." Meanwhile he laid a feast, to make his apology to the Great Sage. Pilgrim said: "Dragon King, don't fuss. Once I've said I forgive you, it's finished—why lay a table? I must go with your son now: first, my old master is in trouble; second, my brother will be watching for me."

The old dragon begged him to stay, but could not hold him. Then a dragon girl came bearing tea, and Pilgrim stood and drank a cup of fragrant tea, took leave of the old dragon, and went with Moang at the head of the troops. They left the Western Sea and quickly reached the Black River. Pilgrim said: "Worthy prince, catch the monster well; I'm going up the bank." Moang said: "Ease your heart, Great Sage. I will bring the creature up, let him be judged before you first, and send Master out of the water; only then dare I take him back to the sea to see my father." Pilgrim parted from him gladly, pinched the water-avoiding charm, leaped out through the waves, and came to the east bank. Sha Monk and the river god met him: "Brother, when you left you went up into the air—how is it you come back out of the river?" Pilgrim told it all—how he had killed the fish spirit, taken the invitation, blamed the Dragon King, and come back with the prince at the head of troops. Sha Monk was overjoyed. They all stood on the bank waiting to receive Master. No more of that for now.

Now Prince Moang sent an officer ahead to the monster's water palace to announce: "Prince Moang, son of the old Dragon King of the Western Sea, has come." The monster was sitting in state when he suddenly heard of Moang's coming, and doubt filled his mind: "I sent the black fish spirit with my card to beg Second Uncle to come. It's late and there is no word back—how is it my uncle does not come, and my cousin does?" While he spoke, the river-patrol demon came again to report: "Great King, there is a troop in the river, camped west of the water palace, their banners reading 'Moang, Little Commander, Heir of the Western Sea.'" The monster said: "That cousin of mine is getting grand. I suppose my uncle could not come and has sent him to the feast in his place. If he comes to a feast, why bring troops and tire his soldiers? Hmm! I fear there is something behind it." He gave the order: "Little ones, have my armor and steel whip standing ready—there may be a sudden storm. I'll go out and meet him and see how it stands." The demons took the order, each one rubbing his palms and clenching his fists, ready.

The alligator came out his gate and truly saw a sea troop camped to the right. Now look:

War banners flew with embroidered streamers; painted halberds stood in lines bright as rosy clouds.Precious swords held a gathered luster; long spears wore tassels wound like flowers.Bows were bent, small as a new moon; arrows stood planted like a wolf's fangs.Great blades gleamed and glittered; short staves stood hard and stiff.Whales and sea-turtles beside clams and mussels; crabs and turtles together with fish and shrimp.Great and small were drawn up in order; arms and weapons thick as hemp.Without the commander's order, who would dare set one foot wrong?

The alligator monster saw it, went straight to the camp gate, and called out at the top of his voice: "Great cousin! Your little brother stands here with folded hands to welcome you." A conch on patrol hurried to the central tent: "Report to His Highness: outside there is an alligator dragon calling to invite you." The prince settled the gold helmet on his head, tightened the jeweled belt at his waist, took a three-edged tablet in hand, swung open his stride, and ran out of the camp: "What do you want with me?" The alligator dragon made his bows: "This morning, little brother sent a card to beg our uncle to come. I suppose our uncle disdains me and has sent you, cousin, in his place. But brother, if you have come to the feast, why trouble the troops and stir up the multitude? Why not enter the water palace—why camp out here, in full armor with weapons in hand?" The prince said: "What did you want my uncle for?" The monster said: "Little brother has long enjoyed the favor of living here, and it has been ages since I saw his honored face or did my duty by him. Yesterday I caught a monk from the Land of the East. I am told he is a man of ten lifetimes of cultivation: whoever eats him lengthens his years. I wanted our uncle to look at him first, then steam him in the iron cage and warm my uncle's birthday with him." The prince shouted: "You fool, through and through! Do you know who that monk is?" The monster said: "A monk from the Tang, on his way to the Western Heaven for scriptures." The prince said: "You know he is the Tang monk, but you do not know how dangerous the disciples under him are." The monster said: "One of them has a long mouth, called Zhu Bajie; I have caught him too, to steam and eat with the Tang monk. There is another disciple called Sha Monk, a black fellow with a face the color of bad luck, who swings a precious staff. Yesterday he stood outside this gate demanding his master, and I led the river troops out and gave him such a beating with the steel whip that he lost the field and ran for his life. He did not seem so very fierce."

The prince said: "So it is simply that you do not know. He has one more elder disciple: the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, a golden immortal of the highest order, who five hundred years ago wrecked the Heavenly Palace. Now he guards the Tang monk on the way to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek scriptures. It was the Bodhisattva Guanyin of the rock of Potalaka, in her great mercy, who turned him to good and changed his name to the Pilgrim Sun Wukong. What business did you have, blundering into a disaster like this? On my sea he ran into your messenger, took the invitation away, and went straight into the crystal palace—charging my father and me with plotting with demons and stealing people. Hand over the Tang monk and Bajie at the riverside, give them back to the Great Sage Sun, and let me make your apology to him—then you may keep your life. But if half a 'no' passes your lips, do not dream of going on living here." The alligator heard this and raged: "We are own cousins of the blood, and you take the other man's side. By your talk, I am to hand over the Tang monk. Where in heaven or on earth is there anything so easy as that? You may be afraid of him—do you think I am afraid too? If he has the skill, let him come to the gate of my water palace and hold me three rounds; then he can have his master. If he cannot stand against me, I will take him too, and steam the lot of you together. Then there will be no guests invited and no kin in it: I will shut my gates, have my little ones sing and dance, sit above them, comfortable and easy, and eat my fill."

The prince heard and opened his mouth to curse: "You foul fiend! Truly without measure. Never mind the Great Sage Sun facing you—do you dare stand against me?" The monster said: "If one means to be a brave man, what is there to fear in standing?" He called: "Bring my armor." At the call the little demons crowded to his side, brought his armor, and offered up the steel whip. The two turned faces on each other, each out to prove his heroism; the word was given, and the drums beat together. This fight was nothing like his bout with Sha Monk. Now look:

Banners blazed; halberds tossed their light. On this side the camp broke apart; on that side the gates swung wide. Prince Moang raised the golden tablet; the alligator monster swung his whip in haste to answer it. One crash of the signal gun, and the river soldiers raged; three beats of the gong, and the sea warriors went mad. Shrimp fought shrimp; crab wrestled crab. Whales and sea-turtles swallowed the red carp; bonefish and whitefish rose at the yellow catfish. Sharks and mullet snapped at anchovies, and the mackerel fled; oysters seized the razor clams, and clams and mussels panicked. The lesser sharks stabbed hard as iron staves; the kun-fish spears were sharp as blades. The rays chased the white eels; the perch and cutlass fish grabbed the black pomfrets. A whole river of monsters fought for mastery, and the dragon troops of two quarters settled weak from strong. Long they mingled in battle, waves rolling—and Prince Moang outdid Vajra himself. With a shout his golden tablet came down heavy on the head, and the demon alligator, king of mischief, was taken.

The prince made a feint, leaving an opening; the demon, not knowing it was a trick, dove in, and Moang used a finishing move—one blow of the tablet on the monster's right arm staggered him. He pressed up close, stamped out a foot, and threw him to the ground. The sea soldiers rushed in together, flipped him over, bound his hands behind his back with rope, ran an iron chain through his collarbones, and brought him up the bank. They led him before Pilgrim Sun: "Great Sage, this little dragon has caught the demon alligator. We ask the Great Sage to decide."

Pilgrim and Sha Monk looked at him: "You creature—you would not follow orders. Your uncle meant you to live here, to cultivate your nature and keep yourself, and to move you to a post when you had made your name. Why did you seize the river god's house by force, do violence leaning on power, deceive your betters with a lying heart, play your tricks, and cheat my master and my brother? I would like to give you a blow of this staff, but old Sun's staff is very heavy; a light blow would finish your life. Where have you put my master?" The monster kowtowed without stopping: "Great Sage, this little alligator did not know your great name. Just now I defied my cousin, trusted my strength against all reason, and my cousin caught me. Now, before the Great Sage, I am fortunate in your mercy that spares my life—I can never thank you enough. Your master is still tied up in the water palace. I beg the Great Sage to loosen my iron chain and free my hands, and let me go into the river and bring him out." Moang said from the side: "Great Sage, this creature is a rebellious monster, and very cunning. If you release him, I fear evil thoughts will stir again." Sha Monk said: "I know the place. Let me go find Master."

The two jumped into the water and went straight to the water-palace gate. The doors stood wide open, without a single guard. They went straight into the pavilion and found the Tang monk and Bajie, both naked and tied up. Sha Monk quickly untied Master; the river god untied Bajie; each carried one on his back out of the water, straight to the bank. Zhu Bajie saw the monster locked and bound close by, whipped out his rake, and made to strike, cursing: "Foul beast! And you don't want to eat me now?" Pilgrim held him: "Brother, spare him the death penalty, out of regard for Ao Shun and his worthy son." Moang stepped up and bowed: "Great Sage, this little dragon dares not linger. Now that your master is saved, I will take this creature to see my father. Though the Great Sage has spared him the death penalty, my father will surely not spare him the living punishment; there will be sentence and settlement, and I will report back to you with his apology." Pilgrim said: "Then take him along. Carry my respects many times to your father; I will thank him in person another day." The prince led the foul demon down into the water, and at the head of his sea troops turned straight back to the great Western Ocean. No more of that for now.

Now the river god of the Black River thanked Pilgrim: "Many thanks to the Great Sage for winning back my water palace." The Tang monk said: "Disciples, we are still on the east bank—how do we cross this river?" The river god said: "Do not worry, reverend sir. Mount your horse; this humble god will clear the way and see you over." The master mounted the white horse; Bajie took the reins, Sha Monk carried the load, and Pilgrim Sun stayed at his side. The river god raised his water-blocking magic and dammed the upstream; in a moment the downstream ran dry, opening a great road. Master and disciples walked over on the west side, thanked the river god, climbed the bank, and took the road. This is truly:

The Chan monk, rescued, went on toward the Western Land; from bottom to top, without a ripple, they crossed the Black River.

How they would go on to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures—listen to the next chapter to find out.