Chapter 13: The Gold Star of the West Frees Tripitaka from the Tiger's Den; Liu Boqin Harbors the Monk at Twin-Fork Ridge

A verse says:

Great Tang has issued his imperial command,
and Xuanzang goes west in search of Chan.
He steels his heart to search the dragon's lair;
he sets his will to cultivate the Way and climb the holy peak.
Beyond the borders lie many kingdoms;
before him cloud and mountain rise in ten thousand folds.
From this day he parts and goes westward,
bearing the teaching and awakening to the Great Void.

Now then: on the third day before the full moon of the ninth month in Zhenguan thirteen, Tripitaka received the Tang king's send-off beyond the western gate of Chang'an. He rode without stopping for a day or two and came early to Famen Monastery. The abbot of the monastery, an elder monk, led more than five hundred monks to line the road on both sides and received him inside, where they exchanged greetings and offered tea.

After the tea came the vegetarian meal, and after the meal it was already growing late. It was just as the verse says:

Shadows moved on the Milky Way, and the moon shone without a speck of dust.
Geese cried out beyond the far Han, and the pounding of fullers rang from the western neighbor.
Returning birds settled in the bare trees; Chan monks recited the sounds of the sutras.
On a single mat atop a rush cushion, they sat until the night was almost spent.

Under the lamp, the monks spoke of the fixed purpose of the Buddhist path and the reason for going west to seek the scriptures. Some said the road was long and the mountains high; some said there were tigers and panthers in the way; some said steep ridges and sheer cliffs could not be crossed; some said poisonous demons and savage monsters would be hard to bring to heel. Tripitaka said nothing. He only pointed to his own heart and nodded again and again.

The monks did not understand what he meant, so with palms joined they asked, "Reverend sir, what do you mean when you point to your heart and nod?"

Tripitaka answered, "When the heart gives rise to things, all manner of demons are born; when the heart is extinguished, all manner of demons are extinguished.

I, your disciple, once made a great and solemn vow before the Buddha at Huasheng Monastery. I cannot but fulfill it. On this journey, I am determined to reach the Western Heaven, see the Buddha, and seek the scriptures, so that the wheel of the Law may turn again for us and our holy sovereign's imperial fortune may endure forever."

When the monks heard this, every one of them praised him, every one of them spread the word, and they all said, "What a loyal and true-hearted great Dharma master!" They praised him without end and asked him to take the bed in the guest hall and rest in peace.

By morning again it was as the verse says:

The bamboo knocked against the fading moon as it set; the cock crowed and the dawn cloud rose.
The monks came up, set out tea, and prepared the morning meal.
Xuanzang put on his monk's robe, went to the main hall, and bowed before the Buddha, saying,
"Your disciple Chen Xuanzang is going to the Western Heaven to seek the scriptures.
But with these fleshly eyes and this foolish understanding, I cannot tell the true form of the living Buddha.
Today I make this vow: wherever I meet a temple, I will burn incense; wherever I meet a Buddha, I will bow to the Buddha; wherever I meet a stupa, I will sweep the stupa.
I only pray that the Buddha's compassion will soon reveal the six-foot golden body and grant me the true scriptures, so they may be passed on to the Eastern Land."

When he had prayed, he returned to the abbot's quarters for another meal. After the meal, the two attendants readied the horse and urged him to continue on his way. Tripitaka left the monastery gate and took leave of the monks. The monks could not bear the parting and escorted him for more than ten li before, tears in their eyes, they turned back. Tripitaka then rode straight westward.

It was the season of late autumn, and the world looked thus:

In several villages the trees had shed their leaves and the reed flowers were shattered like fluff.
In a few groves the maples and poplars dropped red leaves.
On the road, mist and rain made old friends rare.
Yellow chrysanthemums bloomed brightly; the mountain bones were sharp; the water was cold, and the lotuses were broken, leaving people worn and thin.
White duckweed and red smartweed lay under a frosty sky like snow.
The setting clouds and a lone wild goose fell across the broad heavens.
Dim and blurred, the dark village clouds flew by.
Swallows departed, wild geese arrived, and their cries rang out all through the night.

Tripitaka and his two attendants traveled for several days and reached Gongzhou City, where the local officials and officers came out to welcome them and escort them into the city. They rested there for one night and set out early the next morning. Along the way they ate when hungry and drank when thirsty, traveled by night and slept at dawn, and after another two or three days they came to Hezhou Garrison.

This was the frontier boundary of Great Tang. The frontier commander and the local Buddhist and Daoist clergy, hearing that this was the imperial monk, the emperor's younger brother, traveling west to see the Buddha and seek the scriptures, were all respectful. They received him inside and provided for his needs, then asked the monastic superintendent to lodge him at Fuyuan Monastery.

The monks of that monastery came forward one by one to pay their respects and set out the evening meal. After the meal they ordered the two attendants to feed the horse well and told them to set out before dawn.

When the cock first crowed, they called the attendants again, and once more they stirred the monks of the monastery to prepare tea, gruel, and offerings. When the meal was finished they left the border. This old monk had risen far too early.

At that time the season was already deep into autumn, and the cocks crowed early, so it was only the hour before dawn. The three of them, horse and all, went on through the clear frost under the bright moon for several dozen li before they came to a ridge. They had no choice but to push through the grass and search for a road. The ground was so rough and broken that it is hard to describe. They were afraid of missing the path, and while they were still hesitating, the horse and the two attendants all slipped and tumbled into a pit.

Tripitaka was in a panic and the attendants were shaking with fear. Before they had recovered from their terror, they heard roaring and shouting from within the pit: "Seize them! Seize them!"

At once a rolling wind swirled up, and fifty or sixty goblins surged out to drag Tripitaka and the attendants away. The master monk, trembling all over, stole a glance at the chief demon seated above them, and the creature was truly hideous.

Truly it was:

His frame was majestic and stern, his savage spirit bold and grand.
His electric eyes flashed bright light, and his thunder voice shook the four directions.
Saw-toothed fangs jutted from his mouth; chisel teeth showed beside his cheeks.
Brocade wrapped his body; patterned fur covered his back.
Steel whiskers rarely showed flesh, and his hooked claws were sharp as frost.
Even the Yellow Lord of the Eastern Sea would have been afraid; even the White-Forehead King of South Mountain would have quailed.

Tripitaka was so frightened that his soul flew from his body, and the two attendants went limp in the bones and numb in the sinews. The demon king shouted for them to be bound, and the goblins at once tied the three men with ropes.

Just as they were about to prepare the meal, they heard a commotion outside, and someone came to report, "Bear Mountain Lord and the Ox Gentleman have arrived."

Tripitaka heard this and looked up. The one who came first was a black-faced fellow. You can imagine his bearing:

Bold in spirit and broad in courage, his body was light and hard.
He crossed water with savage strength and ran through the woods in fury.
Of old he could bring good dreams to pass; now he alone showed his true form.
He could break green trees with his bare hands and knew how to feel the weather turning cold.
Where his sharp perception showed itself, he was called the Mountain Lord.

Behind him came a fat fellow. You can imagine his shape:

With a lofty crown of two horns and a grave, steady back and shoulders,
he wore blue garments with a certain calm and moved with a heavy, delayed step.
His clan name came from his sire as a bull; his old title came from his dam as a cow.
He could work the fields, and so men called him the Ox Gentleman.

The two of them swayed and staggered in, and the demon king rushed out in alarm to receive them. Bear Mountain Lord said, "Tiger General, you have been prospering of late. Congratulations, congratulations."

The Ox Gentleman said, "Tiger General, your bearing is even finer than usual. Truly delightful, truly delightful."

The demon king said, "How have the two of you fared these last few days?"

Bear Mountain Lord said, "I have only kept my plain observance."

The Ox Gentleman said, "I have only followed the season."

The three of them finished their greetings and sat down to talk and laugh.

Meanwhile the attendants were tied there, weeping miserably in pain. The black-faced fellow asked, "Where did these three come from?"

The demon king said, "They were delivered straight to my door."

The Ox Gentleman laughed. "Then can you receive guests properly?"

The demon king said, "Be my guests, be my guests."

Bear Mountain Lord said, "No need to use them all. Eat two and leave one."

The demon king accepted the advice and at once called his subordinates to cut open the two attendants, rip out their hearts, and hack their bodies to pieces. Their heads and livers were presented to the two guests; the limbs were eaten by the demon king himself; the remaining flesh and bones were divided among the other goblins. All you could hear was the crunching of jaws, as if a tiger were devouring lambs. In an instant it was all gone, and the poor old monk nearly died of fright. This was the first great suffering on his departure from Chang'an. While he was still in this panic, the east gradually began to whiten.

When dawn came, the two monsters dispersed and said, "You have troubled us generously today. Another day we will repay you with all our sincerity."

Before long the red sun rose, and Tripitaka, dazed and half-conscious, could not tell east from west, north from south. At that very moment, when he was truly in a place where no life could be expected, there suddenly appeared an old man with a walking staff. He came up, waved his hand, and the ropes all snapped apart.

He blew a breath across Tripitaka's face, and only then did the monk wake. He knelt on the ground and said, "Many thanks, old sir, for saving this poor monk's life."

The old man returned the salute and said, "Get up. Have you lost anything?"

Tripitaka said, "My attendants have already been eaten by the monsters. I only do not know where the luggage and horse are."

The old man pointed with his staff and said, "Is that not a horse and two bundles over there?"

Tripitaka turned and looked. Sure enough, they were his things, and nothing had been lost. Only then did his heart ease a little. He asked the old man, "Old sir, what place is this? How did you come to be here?"

The old man said, "This is Twin-Fork Ridge, a lair of tigers and wolves. Why did you fall here?"

Tripitaka said, "When I left Hezhou Garrison at cockcrow, I did not expect to rise so early. I was pushed by frost and dew and then suddenly lost my footing and fell here. I saw a demon king, cruel beyond measure, who bound me and my two attendants. Then I saw a black-faced fellow who called himself Bear Mountain Lord and a fat fellow who called himself the Ox Gentleman. They went in and called that demon king Tiger General. The three of them ate my attendants, and only when day broke did they disperse.

I do not know what great karmic bond and great fortune have allowed me to meet you here and be rescued by you, old sir."

The old man said, "The Ox Gentleman is a wild ox spirit; the Mountain Lord is a bear spirit; and the Tiger General is an old tiger spirit. Around them are all mountain goblins and tree ghosts, strange beasts and gray wolves. Only because your original nature is pure and bright could they not eat you. Follow me, and I will lead you onto the road."

Tripitaka was deeply grateful. He tied the bundles onto the horse, took the reins, and followed the old man straight out of the pit and onto the road. Then he tied the horse beside the roadside grass, turned back to bow to the old sir, and the old sir changed at once into a gust of clear wind, mounted on a white crane with a red crown, and soared into the sky.

As he vanished, a slip of paper was left behind in the wind, with four lines written on it.

A verse says:

I am the Gold Star of the West in Heaven,
come specially to save your living soul.
Ahead of you divine helpers will surely come;
do not blame the scriptures for the hardship.

Tripitaka looked at it and bowed to Heaven.

"Many thanks, Gold Star, for rescuing me from this difficulty."

When he had finished bowing, he led the horse forward alone, sad and forlorn, pushing on with difficulty. On that ridge, it was truly:

Bitter cold wind through the rainy forest, and the sound of water running below the ravine.
Fragrant wild flowers bloomed, and the rocks stood piled in confusion.
Deer and apes made a clamorous racket, herds of antelope and roe deer came and went.
Birdsong was noisy and tangled, while human tracks were silent as death.
The old monk shivered and could not calm his heart; the horse was weak and could barely lift its feet.

Tripitaka put his life on the line and climbed into the steepest part of the ridge. After half a day on the road he still saw no homes or villages. First he was hungry in the belly, and second the road was rough.

Just then, in the very midst of danger, he saw two fierce tigers roaring in front of him and several long snakes coiled behind him. To the left were poisonous insects; to the right were strange beasts. Tripitaka was alone and had no plan. He could only lower his heart and body and leave himself to Heaven's command.

Worse still, the horse had weak knees and a soft waist; it knelt where it stood and fell to the ground. It could neither be beaten to rise nor pulled to move. The poor monk had nowhere to lay his body and no way to turn. Truly he was in the utmost misery. He had already judged himself doomed to die and could do nothing else.

Yet although disaster had come upon him, there was also help at hand. Just when it seemed there was no way out, the poisonous insects suddenly fled, the goblins scattered, the fierce tigers hid themselves, and the long snakes vanished without a trace.

Tripitaka looked up and saw a man step out from the hillside, holding a steel fork and wearing a bow and arrows at his waist. He was a true hero indeed.

You can see him:

On his head he wore a leopard-skin cap patterned with mugwort leaves;
on his body he wore a brocade robe woven of goat's wool.
At his waist was a lion-belt, and on his feet a pair of deerskin boots.
His ringed eyes were like a hanging mourner's; his tangled whiskers looked like the stars of a river crossing.
He carried a pouch of poison arrows and a steel fork in his hand.
His thunderous voice broke the hearts of the mountain worms; his fierce courage startled the souls of the wild pheasants.

As the man drew near, Tripitaka knelt by the roadside, joined his palms, and cried out, "Save me, great king! Save me, great king!"

The man came up, laid down the steel fork, and helped him to his feet. "Reverend sir, do not be afraid. I am no wicked fellow. I am a hunter in this mountain, surnamed Liu and named Boqin, with the nickname Mount-Suppressing Protector. I came out here looking for two mountain beasts to eat. I did not expect to meet you, and I have been rude."

Tripitaka said, "I am a monk under the command of Great Tang, traveling west to bow before the Buddha and seek the scriptures. Just now I came here and found myself surrounded by wolves, tigers, snakes, and insects on all sides, unable to go forward. Then I saw the Protector arrive, and all the beasts fled. You have saved this poor monk's life. Many thanks, many thanks."

Boqin said, "I live here, and I depend entirely on hunting wolves and tigers and catching snakes and insects to make a living, so the beasts are afraid of me and run off. Since you are from Tang, we are countrymen.

This is still Great Tang's borderland. I am also a subject of Tang. We both eat the emperor's wind and drink the emperor's water, so we are truly men of one country. Do not be afraid. Come with me and rest your horse at my house. Tomorrow I will send you on your way."

Tripitaka heard this and was filled with joy. He thanked Boqin and led the horse after him.

After they had crossed the slope, they heard a whooshing of wind. Boqin said, "Reverend sir, do not go on. Sit here a moment. The sound of the wind means a mountain cat has come. Let me catch him and take him home to entertain you."

Tripitaka was frightened again and did not dare move a step. The protector took up the steel fork and strode out to meet it. A striped tiger appeared and charged straight at him, but when it saw Boqin, it quickly turned its head and ran.

The protector let out a crash of thunder and shouted, "Where do you think you are going, beast!"

The tiger saw that he was being pursued and turned back to claw at him. The protector raised his three-pronged fork to meet the attack. Tripitaka went limp and collapsed onto the grass. This monk had never, from the day he was born, seen such a dangerous affair. Beneath the slope, man and tiger held each other fast in a truly hard-fought battle. It was like this:

Rage rolled up in layers, and wild wind spun and spun.
The protector raged, his strength surging through his bones; the striped tiger lashed out, spitting red dust.
One showed teeth and claws; the other turned and shifted his stance.
The three-pronged fork flashed like it could lift the sky and dim the sun; the tail's thousand flowers stirred, and mist and cloud flew.
One stabbed at the chest; the other lunged straight for the face.
Those who slipped aside would live; those who were struck would surely see the Lord of Hades.
The striped tiger roared, and the protector roared back.
The tiger's roar shook mountains and rivers and frightened birds and beasts; the protector's cry split open the Heavenly Office and showed the stars.
The tiger's golden eyes blazed in fury; the protector's bold heart burned with rage.
How fine was Liu the mountain-suppressing protector, worthy to be praised as king of the beasts on the ground.
Man and tiger both coveted life and victory, and one careless move would have lost three souls.

The two of them fought for the space of an hour. At last the tiger's claws weakened and its waist went slack. The protector raised his fork and thrust it through the tiger's chest, pinning it to the ground. Alas, the steel fork pierced heart and liver, and in an instant blood flowed all over the earth. He seized the ears and dragged the carcass up the road.

The fine fellow was not out of breath and did not change color. He said to Tripitaka, "Good fortune, good fortune. This mountain cat is enough for the reverend sir to eat for one day."

Tripitaka praised him without end. "Protector, you are truly a mountain god!"

Boqin said, "What skill have I, that you should praise me so highly? This is all the reverend sir's great fortune. Come, come, let us skin it early and boil some meat to entertain you."

With one hand he held the fork and with the other he dragged the tiger ahead, leading the way. Tripitaka followed with his horse. As they went along the slope, they suddenly saw a mountain manor.

The gate there was truly:

Ancient trees reached the sky, and wild vines spilled all over the road.
In ten thousand ravines the wind and dust were cold; on a thousand cliffs the air was strange and wild.
One path was fragrant with wildflowers; several stalks of hidden bamboo swayed green and fine.
A grass gatehouse, a fenced yard - fit to be sketched or painted.
A stone plank bridge, white earthen walls - truly rare and delightful.
The autumn scene was bleak, the air clear and lofty.
Yellow leaves fell beside the road; white clouds drifted over the ridge.
In the sparse woods mountain birds cried out; outside the manor gate little dogs barked in clear voices.

Boqin reached the gate and threw down the dead tiger, shouting, "Where are the servants?"

Three or four household boys came out, all of them strange-looking and fierce-faced. They hurried forward, carried the tiger inside, and Boqin ordered them to skin it at once and get it ready to entertain the guest. He then turned back, welcomed Tripitaka inside, and the two of them exchanged greetings, while Tripitaka bowed again and again in gratitude for Boqin's great kindness and mercy in saving his life.

Boqin said, "Why should a countryman thank me so much?"

When they were seated and had finished the tea, an old woman came in leading a daughter-in-law and paid respects to Tripitaka. Boqin said, "This is my mother and my wife."

Tripitaka said, "Please be seated, Madam. This poor monk pays his respects."

The old woman said, "Reverend sir, you are a guest from far away. We each should cherish our own bodies; there is no need for such bows."

Boqin said, "Mother, he is an envoy of the Tang king, sent west to see the Buddha and seek the scriptures. Just now he met your son on the ridge, and because we are people of one country I invited him home to rest his horse. Tomorrow I will send him on his way."

When the old woman heard this, she was greatly pleased.

"Good, good, good. Since we have invited him, how fortunate this is. Tomorrow will be your father's anniversary. Ask the reverend sir to do a good work for us, recite a scripture volume, and send him off the day after tomorrow."

Though Liu Boqin was a tiger-slayer and a mountain protector, he still had a dutiful heart. When he heard his mother's words, he at once set about preparing incense and paper and asked Tripitaka to stay on.

While they were talking, it had already grown late. The servants set out tables and stools and brought several platters of well-cooked tiger meat, steaming hot, and placed them on the table. Boqin asked Tripitaka to use them first and would have another meal prepared afterward.

Tripitaka joined his palms before his chest and said, "Excellent! I will not hide it from the protector. Since I left my mother's womb, I have been a monk, and I have never once known how to eat meat."

When Boqin heard this, he thought for a long while and said, "Reverend sir, from generation to generation my house has never known how to eat plain food. Even when we have some bamboo shoots, gather some wood ear mushrooms, find some dried vegetables, or make some bean curd, it is all greased with deer, tiger, or panther fat, and there is no place in it that is plain. Even the two stoves are soaked through with oil and grease. What are we to do? It is rather my fault for inviting the reverend sir."

Tripitaka said, "You need not worry. Please enjoy yourself. Even if I do not eat for three or five days, I can bear the hunger. I only dare not break my fast."

Boqin said, "If you should starve to death, then what?"

Tripitaka said, "Thanks to the protector's heavenly kindness in rescuing me from the tiger-and-wolf thicket, even if I died of hunger, it would still be better than being fed to the tiger."

When Boqin's mother heard this, she called out, "My son, do not waste words with the reverend sir. I have plain food to offer."

Boqin said, "Where would plain food come from?"

The mother said, "Do not trouble yourself. I have my own plain dishes."

She called the daughter-in-law to take down the small pot, burned off the grease over the fire, scrubbed it clean again and again, washed it over and over, and put it back on the stove. First she boiled half a pot of water and set it aside. Then she took some mountain elm leaves and brewed them in water for tea. After that she cooked some yellow millet rice and boiled some dried vegetables. When it was ready, she filled two bowls and brought them out to set on the table. The old mother said to Tripitaka, "Reverend sir, please eat your meal. This is a little tea and rice that the old woman and my daughter-in-law prepared with our own hands, as clean and pure as we could make it."

Tripitaka came down, gave thanks, and only then took his seat.

As for Boqin, he set up another place for himself and laid out tiger meat, deer meat, python meat, fox meat, rabbit meat, diced venison, and dried strips, a whole table and a whole bowl of them, to keep Tripitaka company while he ate his fast. Just as he was about to raise his chopsticks, he saw Tripitaka with palms joined, chanting a scripture, and this frightened Boqin so much that he did not dare move his chopsticks. He hurried to his feet and stood to one side. Tripitaka chanted only a few lines before he asked to have the meal taken away.

Boqin said, "Are you a monk who only recites short scriptures?"

Tripitaka said, "This is not a scripture, but a mantra for breaking the fast."

Boqin said, "You monks really do make a great many distinctions. Even at a meal you must recite something."

After the vegetarian meal was finished and the bowls and plates cleared away, it was growing late. Boqin led Tripitaka out from the front hall and took him to walk around behind the house. Through a covered passage they came to a grass pavilion.

They pushed open the door and went inside. On the walls hung several strong bows and hard crossbows; on the beam overhead were slung two tiger skins, still bloody; at the foot of the wall stood many spears, knives, forks, and staves; and in the middle were set two seats. Boqin invited Tripitaka to sit.

Tripitaka saw the place was so fierce and foul that he did not dare remain long, so he came out of the pavilion. Going farther back, he found a large garden, where the chrysanthemum blossoms were thick and yellow and the maples and poplars hung red with color. Then there came a rush of wind and more than a dozen fat deer ran out, followed by a whole herd of yellow antelope. When they saw people, they only blinked stupidly and did not seem afraid at all.

Tripitaka said, "Are all these antelope and deer your household herd, Protector?"

Boqin said, "People in Chang'an city gather their wealth in treasures, or, if they own estates, gather grain and rice. We hunters can only gather and raise a few wild beasts for use when the weather turns bad."

The two of them talked as they walked, and before they knew it, it was dusk. They turned back to the front house and went to rest.

The next morning the whole household, old and young alike, rose early and set out a vegetarian meal to entertain the reverend sir, asking him to begin the scripture chanting. After washing his hands, Tripitaka went with the protector to the family shrine, lit incense, and bowed before the ancestral tablets. Then he took up the wooden fish and began first with the mantra for purifying the mouth, then the divine spell for purifying body and mind, and after that opened one volume of the Scripture for Delivering the Dead.

When the chanting was done, Boqin asked him to write a memorial for the dead as well, and then to open the Diamond Sutra and the Guanyin Sutra. He chanted each of them aloud. After the chanting, they ate the midday meal, then recited the Lotus Sutra and the Amitabha Sutra, each in several volumes, and then another volume of the Peacock Sutra, together with stories of how the bhiksus washed away karma. Before long it was evening again.

They had offered incense in every form, burned spirit horses and spirit paper for the gods, and sent off the memorial for the dead. The Buddhist service was finished, and everyone went to bed.

Now then: the spirit of Boqin's father, having been delivered beyond the depths of suffering, came in ghost form to his own house and entered a dream for the whole family, old and young alike, saying, "I have long suffered in the underworld and could not escape. Now, thanks to the holy monk reciting the scriptures, my sins have been dissolved, and the King of Hell has sent me on to be reborn in a rich land of China, in the house of some noble family. You must thank and send off the reverend sir properly and not be careless, not be careless. I am gone."

This is what it means when all the practices are splendidly arranged and there is an intent to deliver the dead from suffering. The family woke from the dream, and already the sun had risen in the east.

Boqin's wife said, "Protector, I dreamed last night that my father-in-law came home and said he had long suffered in the underworld and could not escape. Now, thanks to the holy monk reciting the scriptures, his sins have been dissolved, and the King of Hell has sent him on to be reborn in a rich land of China, in the house of some noble family. He told us to thank the reverend sir properly and not to neglect him. When he finished speaking, he went straight out the door and wandered away. We called him, but he did not answer, and we could not keep him. When I woke, it was only a dream."

Boqin said, "I dreamed the same thing. It was exactly as you said.

Let us go tell Mother."

Just as the two of them were about to speak, the old mother called out, "Boqin, my child, come here. I have something to say."

The two of them came forward, and the old mother sat up on the bed and said, "My dear child, I had a happy dream last night. I dreamed that your father came home and said that, thanks to the reverend sir's delivery rites, his sins had been dissolved and he had already gone to be reborn in a rich land of China, in the house of some noble family."

The husband and wife both laughed aloud.

"My wife and I had the very same dream and were just about to report it, when Mother called us. It is the same dream after all."

So they called the whole household to rise, prepared gifts of thanks, and had them help gather up the horse. Then all of them came before Tripitaka and bowed in gratitude, saying, "Many thanks to the reverend sir for delivering our dead father from suffering and helping him be born again. We can never repay you."

Tripitaka said, "What ability does this poor monk have, that you should praise me so?"

Boqin told him in full the dream that had been dreamt by the three of them, and Tripitaka was pleased. Breakfast was served early, and in addition they brought out one tael of silver as a gift of thanks. Tripitaka would not accept a single cash.

The whole family begged him again and again, but Tripitaka still would not take a penny. He only said, "It is enough that you showed mercy and sent me on a stretch of road. That kindness alone I already feel deeply."

Boqin, his mother, and his wife had no choice, so they quickly made some coarse wheat cakes and dry provisions and asked Boqin to escort him far along the road. Tripitaka gladly accepted them. The protector took his mother's command, called two or three household boys to bring their hunting gear, and went with him onto the main road. The wild scenery of the mountain and the beauty of the ridge could not be fully described.

They traveled for half a day and came upon a great mountain ahead of them, truly soaring into the blue sky, lofty and steep beyond measure. Tripitaka soon came to the foot of it. The protector climbed it as if it were level ground, and when they had reached the middle of the slope, Boqin turned and stood in the road below, saying, "Reverend sir, please continue on ahead. I must take my leave."

When Tripitaka heard this, he rolled out of the saddle and said, "I beg you, Protector, do me the favor of escorting me a little farther."

Boqin said, "Reverend sir does not know. This mountain is called Twin-Boundary Mountain. Its eastern half belongs to Great Tang, while its western half is the territory of the Tartars.

The wolves and tigers over there refuse to obey my command, and I cannot cross the border either. Please go on by yourself."

Tripitaka was alarmed. He tugged at Boqin's sleeve and held fast to his robe, tears dropping as they could not bear to part. While they were still urging and taking leave, they suddenly heard from the foot of the mountain a cry like thunder: "My master has come! My master has come!"

This frightened Tripitaka so badly that he stood there in a daze, and Boqin nearly lost his footing.

As for what person was shouting, that must wait for the next chapter to explain.