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07 Eagle Grief Gorge

They went back down to the ape. "The charm is lifted," said the Tang Monk. "Come out." The ape was overjoyed. "Master, stand further off, so that I may come out without frightening you!" Boqin and the monk went six or seven li eastward, and again they heard the ape shouting, "Further! Further!" So they went another ten li. Then came a tremendous crash: the mountain split and the earth heaved. Looking back, they saw the Two-Worlds Mountain shattered to pieces. Even as they stood astonished, the ape was already at the horse's head, and knelt naked before the Tang Monk, bowing four times. "I am out! Thank you, Master!" "Let me give you a Dharma name, so that I may call you," said the Tang Monk. "I already have one," said the ape. "Sun Wukong." "That name suits our lineage well," said the monk, pleased. "And I shall also give you the by-name Pilgrim. What say you?" Wukong cried out his approval. Boqin congratulated the monk on gaining so good a disciple; the Tang Monk bowed his thanks, and the two parted. Wukong helped the monk onto the horse and went ahead with the luggage on his back. Beyond the Two-Worlds Mountain a fierce tiger came roaring at them, and the Tang Monk tumbled from the saddle in fright. Wukong, however, was delighted. "Do not fear, Master — it has come to bring me clothing!" From his ear Wukong took a needle, shook it in the wind until it became an iron rod as thick as a bowl, and struck the tiger full on the head; its brains flew out on the spot. "I had no idea you had such skill," the Tang Monk marvelled. "This old Sun has some power over dragons and tigers," Wukong said with a laugh. "Never mind a tiger — even a dragon would not dare be impertinent to me." Then he plucked a hair, turned it into a sharp ox-ear knife and opened the tiger's belly. He stripped off a piece of the hide, tied it round his waist with vine to cover himself, and said, "Let us go on, Master. When we come to a house I shall borrow a needle and thread and sew it up." He took up the luggage and helped his master mount. "What has become of the iron rod you killed the tiger with?" the monk asked. Wukong laughed. "It is called the As-You-Will Golden-Hooped Rod. It can grow and shrink as it pleases; I have made it small as an embroidery needle and put it back in my ear." Talking as they went, master and disciple came unawares upon evening. Wukong saw a farmstead ahead. "There is a house, Master. Let us go and ask for lodging." The Tang Monk dismounted at the gate and Wukong knocked. An old man opened the door, and seeing one who looked like the Thunder God, went weak at the knees and cried, "A ghost! A ghost!" "Do not be afraid, good sir," said the Tang Monk, stepping forward. "He is this poor monk's disciple, no ghost." Seeing the monk's clear and striking features, the old man steadied himself. "I am sent by the Tang court to worship the Buddha in the West and seek the scriptures. Night has overtaken us, and I beg a place to sleep." The old man asked them in and set out a vegetarian meal. When it was done, Wukong borrowed needle and thread.

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