Brother Monkey Makes Trouble on the Black Wind Mountain

Guanyin Subdues the Bear Spirit

As Monkey leapt up with a somersault, the senior and junior monks, the novices, the page-boys, and the servants of the monastery all bowed low to the sky and said, “Master, you must be a cloud-riding Immortal come down from Heaven. No wonder that fire can't burn you. Damn that stupid old skinflint of ours: he destroyed himself with his own scheming.”

“Please rise, gentlemen,” replied Sanzang, “there's no need to hate him. If my disciple finds the cassock our troubles will all come to an end; but if he doesn't find it, he has rather a nasty temper and I'm afraid that none of you will escape with your lives.” When they heard this warning, the monks' hearts were in their mouths, and they implored Heaven to let him find the cassock and spare their lives.

Once in mid-air, the Great Sage Sun Wukong reached at the Black Wind Mountain with one twist of his waist. Stopping his cloud while he took a careful look around, he saw that it was indeed a fine mountain. It was a spring day:

The myriad valleys' streams compete,

A thousand precipices vie in beauty.

Where the birds call, no man is;

When the blossoms fall, the trees are still fragrant.

After the rain, the sky and the lowering cliff are moist;

As the pines bend in the wind, they spread an emerald screen.

The mountain herbs grow,

The wild flowers blossom,

Hanging over beetling crags;

The wild fig thrives

And fine trees flourish

On craggy range and flat-topped hill.

You meet no hermits,

And can find no wood-cutters.

Beside the stream a pair of cranes drink,

And wild apes gambol on the rocks.

Peaks like mussel-shells, gleaming black,

Lofty and green as they shine through the mist.

As Monkey was looking at the mountain scenery he heard voices from in front of the grassy slope. He slipped off to conceal himself under the rock-face and take a discreet look. He saw three fiends sitting on the ground. At the head was a dark fellow, to his left was a Taoist, and to his right a white-robed scholar, and they were all talking about lofty and broad matters: about refining cinnabar and mercury with tripods and cauldrons; and about the white snow, mercury, the yellow sprout, lead, and other esoteric teachings.

In the middle of this the dark fellow said, “As it's my birthday tomorrow, I hope you two gentlemen will do me the honour of coming along.”

“We celebrate your birthday every year, Your Majesty,” the white-robed scholar replied, “so of course we shall come this year.”

“I came by a treasure last night,” the dark fellow went on, “a brocade cassock for a Buddha, and it's a wonderful thing. I'm going to give a big banquet for it the day after tomorrow and I'm inviting all you mountain officials to come and congratulate me, which is why I'm calling it a 'Buddha's Robe Banquet.'”

“Wonderful, wonderful,” the Taoist exclaimed with a smile. “Tomorrow I'll come to congratulate you on your birthday, and the day after I'll come again for the banquet.”

As soon as Monkey heard him mention the Buddha's robe he was sure it was their treasure, and unable to hold back his anger he leapt out from the cliff brandishing his gold-banded cudgel with both hands and shouting, “I'll get you, you gang of devils. You stole our cassock, and now you think you're going to have a 'Buddha's Robe Banquet'. Give it back to me at once.”

“Don't move,” he barked, swinging the cudgel and bringing it down towards the monster's head. The dark fellow turned into a wind to flee in terror, and the Taoist rode off on a cloud; so Monkey was only able to slay the white-robed scholar with a blow from the club. When he dragged the body over to look at it, he saw that it was a white-patterned snake spirit. In his anger he picked the corpse up and tore it to pieces, then went into the recesses of the mountain in search of the dark fellow. Rounding a sharp pinnacle and traversing a dizzy precipice, he saw a cave palace in the cliff:

Thick, misty clouds,

Dense with cypress and pine.

The thick and misty clouds fill the gates with color;

The dense stands of cypress and pine surround the door with green.

For a bridge there is a dried-out log,

And wild fig coils around the mountain peaks.

Birds carry red petals to the cloud-filled valley;

Deer tread on scented bushes as they climb the stone tower.

Before the gates the season brings out flowers,

As the wind wafts their fragrance.

Around the willows on the dike the golden orioles wheel;

Butterflies flit among the peach-trees on the bank.

This ordinary scene can yet compete

With lesser views in Fairyland.

When he reached the gates Monkey saw that they were very strongly fastened, and above them was a stone tablet inscribed with the words Black Wind Cave of the Black Wind Mountain in large letters. He brandished his cudgel and shouted, “Open up!” at which the junior devil who was on the gates opened them and asked, “Who are you, and how dare you come and attack our Immortals' cave?”

“You damned cur,” Monkey railed at him. “How dare you call a place like this an 'Immortals' cave'? What right have you to use the word 'Immortal'? Go in and tell that dark fellow of yours that if he gives back my cassock at once, I'll spare your lives.”

The junior devil rushed in and reported, “The 'Buddha's Robe Banquet' is off, Your Majesty. There's hairy-faced thunder god outside the gates who's demanding the cassock.”

The dark fellow, who had barely had time to shut the gates and had not even sat down properly since Brother Monkey chased him, away from the grassy slope, thought on hearing this news, “This wretch has come from I don't know where, and now he has the effrontery to come yelling at my gates.” He called for his armour, tightened his belt, and strode out of the gates with a black-tasseled spear in his hands. Monkey appeared outside the gates holding his iron cudgel and glaring wide-eyed at that ferocious-looking monster.

His bowl-shaped iron helmet shone like fire;

His black bronze armour gleamed.

A black silk gown with billowing sleeves,

A dark green silken sash with fringes.

In his hands a spear with black tassels,

On his feet a pair of dark leather boots.

Lightning flashed from his golden pupils;

He was indeed the Black Wind King of the mountains.

“This wretch looks as though he's been a brick-burner or a coal-digger,” Monkey thought as he smiled to himself. “He's so black he must be the local soot-painter.”

“What gives you the nerve to act so big round here, monk, and what the hell are you?” shouted the monster at the top of his voice.

Monkey rushed him with his cudgel and roared, “Cut the cackle, and give me back the cassock at once, kid.”

“What monastery d'you come from? Where did you lose the cassock? Why come and ask for it here?”

“My cassock was in the rear abbot's lodgings at the Guanyin Monastery due North of here. When the monastery caught fire you made the most of the confusion to do a bit of looting and brought it back here, you wretch, and now you're planning to hold a 'Buddha's Robe Banquet'. Don't try to brazen it out. Give it back at once, and I'll spare your life, but if even a hint of a 'no' gets past your teeth I'll push the Black Wind Mountain over, trample your cave flat, and flatten every one of you fiends into noodles.”

The monster laughed evilly and replied, “You've got a nerve. You were the one who started the fire last night. You were sitting on the roof of the abbot's lodgings and calling up a wind to make it worse. What's it to you if I did take a cassock? Where are you from? Who are you? You must have a lot of tricks up your sleeve if you have the nerve to talk so big.”