The Chinese Fairy Book
by unknown · English · Gutenberg #29939 · 549,343 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Chinese Fairy Book
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: The Chinese Fairy Book
Editor: Richard Wilhelm
Release date: September 8, 2009 [eBook #29939]
Most recently updated: January 5, 2021
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29939
Credits: Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CHINESE FAIRY BOOK ***
Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
THE
CHINESE FAIRY
BOOK
EDITED BY
DR. R. WILHELM
TRANSLATED AFTER ORIGINAL SOURCES BY
FREDERICK H. MARTENS
[Illustration]
WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR BY
GEORGE W. HOOD
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1921, by_
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
_All Rights Reserved_
BOOKS IN THE "FAIRY SERIES"
_The English Fairy Book_
_The Welsh Fairy Book_
_The Irish Fairy Book_
_The Scottish Fairy Book_
_The Italian Fairy Book_
_The Hungarian Fairy Book_
_The Indian Fairy Book_
_The Jewish Fairy Book_
_The Swedish Fairy Book_
_The Chinese Fairy Book_
[Illustration: "THE CROWS COME FLYING AND FORM A BRIDGE OVER WHICH
THE WEAVING MAIDEN CROSSES THE SILVER RIVER."
--_Page 40_]
PREFACE
The fairy tales and legends of olden China have in common with the
"Thousand and One Nights" an oriental glow and glitter of precious
stones and gold and multicolored silks, an oriental wealth of
fantastic and supernatural action. And yet they strike an exotic note
distinct in itself. The seventy-three stories here presented after
original sources, embracing "Nursery Fairy Tales," "Legends of the
Gods," "Tales of Saints and Magicians," "Nature and Animal Tales,"
"Ghost Stories," "Historic Fairy Tales," and "Literary Fairy Tales,"
probably represent the most comprehensive and varied collection of
oriental fairy tales ever made available for American readers. There
is no child who will not enjoy their novel color, their fantastic
beauty, their infinite variety of subject. Yet, like the "Arabian
Nights," they will amply repay the attention of the older reader as
well. Some are exquisitely poetic, such as "The Flower-Elves," "The
Lady of the Moon" or "The Herd Boy and the Weaving Maiden"; others
like "How Three Heroes Came By Their Deaths Because Of Two Peaches,"
carry us back dramatically and powerfully to the Chinese age of
Chivalry. The summits of fantasy are scaled in the quasi-religious
dramas of "The Ape Sun Wu Kung" and "Notscha," or the weird sorceries
unfolded in "The Kindly Magician." Delightful ghost stories, with
happy endings, such as "A Night on the Battlefield" and "The Ghost Who
Was Foiled," are paralleled with such idyllic love-tales as that of
"Rose of Evening," or such Lilliputian fancies as "The King of the
Ants" and "The Little Hunting Dog." It is quite safe to say that these
Chinese fairy tales will give equal pleasure to the old as well as the
young. They have been retold simply, with no changes in style or
expression beyond such details of presentation which differences
between oriental and occidental viewpoints at times compel. It is the
writer's hope that others may take as much pleasure in reading them as
he did in their translation.
FREDRICK H. MARTENS.
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE v
NURSERY FAIRY TALES
CHAPTER
I WOMEN'S WORDS PART FLESH AND BLOOD 1
II THE THREE RHYMSTERS 4
III HOW GREED FOR A TRIFLING THING LED A MAN TO LOSE A
GREAT ONE 6
IV WHO WAS THE SINNER? 9
V THE MAGIC CASK 10
VI THE FAVORITE OF FORTUNE AND THE CHILD OF ILL LUCK 11
VII THE BIRD WITH NINE HEADS 13
VIII THE CAVE OF THE BEASTS 17
IX THE PANTHER 20
X THE GREAT FLOOD 24
XI THE FOX AND THE TIGER 27
XII THE TIGER'S DECOY 28
XIII THE FOX AND THE RAVEN 29
XIV WHY DOG AND CAT ARE ENEMIES 30
LEGENDS OF THE GODS
XV HOW THE FIVE ANCIENTS BECAME MEN 35
XVI THE HERD BOY AND THE WEAVING MAIDEN 37
XVII YANG OERLANG 42
XVIII NOTSCHA 44
XIX THE LADY OF THE MOON 53
XX THE MORNING AND THE EVENING STAR 55
XXI THE GIRL WITH THE HORSE'S HEAD OR THE SILKWORM
GODDESS 56
XXII THE QUEEN OF HEAVEN 58
XXIII THE FIRE-GOD 61
XXIV THE THREE RULING GODS 62
XXV A LEGEND OF CONFUCIUS 64
XXVI THE GOD OF WAR 66
TALES OF SAINTS AND MAGICIANS
XXVII THE HALOS OF THE SAINTS 71
XXVIII LAOTSZE 73
XXIX THE ANCIENT MAN 75
XXX THE EIGHT IMMORTALS (I) 76
XXXI THE EIGHT IMMORTALS (II) 82
XXXII THE TWO SCHOLARS 84
XXXIII THE MISERLY FARMER 88
XXXIV SKY O'DAWN 90
XXXV KING MU OF DSCHOU 95
XXXVI THE KING OF HUAI NAN 99
XXXVII OLD DSCHANG 102
XXXVIII THE KINDLY MAGICIAN 107
NATURE AND ANIMAL TALES
XXXIX THE FLOWER-ELVES 119
XL THE SPIRIT OF THE WU-LIAN MOUNTAIN 124
XLI THE KING OF THE ANTS 125
XLII THE LITTLE HUNTING DOG 127
XLIII THE DRAGON AFTER HIS WINTER SLEEP 130
XLIV THE SPIRITS OF THE YELLOW RIVER 131
XLV THE DRAGON-PRINCESS 137
XLVI HELP IN NEED 142
XLVII THE DISOWNED PRINCESS 151
XLVIII FOX-FIRE 161
GHOST STORIES
XLIX THE TALKING SILVER FOXES 165
L THE CONSTABLE 168
LI THE DANGEROUS REWARD 174
LII RETRIBUTION 177
LIII THE GHOST WHO WAS FOILED 180
LIV THE PUNISHMENT OF GREED 184
LV THE NIGHT ON THE BATTLEFIELD 186
LVI THE KINGDOM OF THE OGRES 189
LVII THE MAIDEN WHO WAS STOLEN AWAY 196
LVIII THE FLYING OGRE 199
LIX BLACK ARTS 201
HISTORIC LEGENDS
LX THE SORCERER OF THE WHITE LOTUS LODGE 209
LXI THE THREE EVILS 212
LXII HOW THREE HEROES CAME BY THEIR DEATHS BECAUSE OF
TWO PEACHES 215
LXIII HOW THE RIVER GOD'S WEDDING WAS BROKEN OFF 218
LXIV DSCHANG LIANG 220
LXV OLD DRAGONBEARD 223
LXVI HOW MOLO STOLE THE LOVELY ROSE-RED 231
LXVII THE GOLDEN CANISTER 235
LXVIII YANG GUI FE 240
LXIX THE MONK OF THE YANGTZE-KIANG 243
LITERARY FAIRY TALES
LXX THE HEARTLESS HUSBAND 251
LXXI GIAUNA THE BEAUTIFUL 261
LXXII THE FROG PRINCESS 271
LXXIII ROSE OF EVENING 280
LXXIV THE APE SUN WU KUNG 288
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"The crows come flying and form a bridge over which the
Weaving Maiden crosses the Silver River" _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
"Beside it stood a Cassia-tree" 54
"'And I crossed the water on the shoe'" 90
"A fisherboy dived into the water and brought up a pearl
from beneath the chin of a black dragon" 138
"Tsian Tang brought out a platter of red amber on which
lay a carbuncle" 156
"Then he took his master and Rose-Red upon his back and
flew with them over the steep walls" 234
NURSERY FAIRY TALES
THE CHINESE FAIRY BOOK
I
WOMEN'S WORDS PART FLESH AND BLOOD
Once upon a time there were two brothers, who lived in the same house.
And the big brother listened to his wife's words, and because of them
fell out with the little one. Summer had begun, and the time for
sowing the high-growing millet had come. The little brother had no
grain, and asked the big one to loan him some, and the big one ordered
his wife to give it to him. But she took the grain, put it in a large
pot and cooked it until it was done. Then she gave it to the little
fellow. He knew nothing about it, and went and sowed his field with
it. Yet, since the grain had been cooked, it did not sprout. Only a
single grain of seed had not been cooked; so only a single sprout shot
up. The little brother was hard-working and industrious by nature, and
hence he watered and hoed the sprout all day long. And the sprout grew
mightily, like a tree, and an ear of millet sprang up out of it like a
canopy, large enough to shade half an acre of ground. In the fall the
ear was ripe. Then the little brother took his ax and chopped it down.
But no sooner had the ear fallen to the ground, than an enormous Roc
came rushing down, took the ear in his beak and flew away. The little
brother ran after him as far as the shore of the sea.
Then the bird turned and spoke to him like a human being, as follows:
"You should not seek to harm me! What is this one ear worth to you?
East of the sea is the isle of gold and silver. I will carry you
across. There you may take whatever you want, and become very rich."
The little brother was satisfied, and climbed on the bird's back, and
the latter told him to close his eyes. So he only heard the air
whistling past his ears, as though he were driving through a strong
wind, and beneath him the roar and surge of flood and waves. Suddenly
the bird settled on a rock: "Here we are!" he said.
Then the little brother opened his eyes and looked about him: and on
all sides he saw nothing but the radiance and shimmer of all sorts of
white and yellow objects. He took about a dozen of the little things
and hid them in his breast.
"Have you enough?" asked the Roc.
"Yes, I have enough," he replied.
"That is well," answered the bird. "Moderation protects one from
harm."
Then he once more took him up, and carried him back again.
When the little brother reached home, he bought himself a good piece
of ground in the course of time, and became quite well to do.
But his brother was jealous of him, and said to him, harshly: "Where
did you manage to steal the money?"
So the little one told him the whole truth of the matter. Then the big
brother went home and took counsel with his wife.
"Nothing easier," said his wife. "I will just cook grain again and
keep back one seedling so that it is not done. Then you shall sow it,
and we will see what happens."
No sooner said than done. And sure enough, a single sprout shot up,
and sure enough, the sprout bore a single ear of millet, and when
harvest time came around, the Roc again appeared and carried it off in
his beak. The big brother was pleased, and ran after him, and the Roc
said the same thing he had said before, and carried the big brother to
the island. There the big brother saw the gold and silver heaped up
everywhere. The largest pieces were like hills, the small ones were
like bricks, and the real tiny ones were like grains of sand. They
blinded his eyes. He only regretted that he knew of no way by which he
could move mountains. So he bent down and picked up as many pieces as
possible.
The Roc said: "Now you have enough. You will overtax your strength."
"Have patience but a little while longer," said the big brother. "Do
not be in such a hurry! I must get a few more pieces!"
And thus time passed.
The Roc again urged him to make haste: "The sun will appear in a
moment," said he, "and the sun is so hot it burns human beings up."
"Wait just a little while longer," said the big brother. But that very
moment a red disk broke through the clouds with tremendous power. The
Roc flew into the sea, stretched out both his wings, and beat the
water with them in order to escape the heat. But the big brother was
shrivelled up by the sun.
Note: This fairy-tale is traditionally narrated. The
Roc is called _pong_ in Chinese, and the treasures on
the island are spoken of as "all sorts of yellow and
white objects" because the little fellow does not know
that they are gold and silver.
II
THE THREE RHYMSTERS
Once there were three daughters in a family. The oldest one married a
physician, the second one married a magistrate; but the third, who was
more than usually intelligent and a clever talker, married a farmer.
Now it chanced, once upon a time, that their parents were celebrating
a birthday. So the three daughters came, together with their husbands,
to wish them long life and happiness. The parents-in-law prepared a
meal for their three sons-in-law, and put the birthday wine on the
table. But the oldest son-in-law, who knew that the third one had not
attended school, wanted to embarrass him.
"It is far too tiresome," said he, "just to sit here drinking: let us
have a drinking game. Each one of us must invent a verse, one that
rimes and makes sense, on the words: 'in the sky, on the earth, at the
table, in the room,' And whoever cannot do so, must empty three
glasses as a punishment."
All the company were satisfied. Only the third son-in-law felt
embarrassed and insisted on leaving. But the guests would not let him
go, and obliged him to keep his seat.
Then the oldest son-in-law began: "I will make a start with my verse.
Here it is:
"In the sky the phenix proudly flies,
On the earth the lambkin tamely lies,
At the table through an ancient book I wade,
In the room I softly call the maid."
The second one continued: "And I say:
"In the sky the turtle-dove flies round,
On the earth the ox paws up the ground,
At the table one studies the deeds of yore,
In the room the maid she sweeps the floor."
But the third son-in-law stuttered, and found nothing to say. And when
all of them insisted, he broke out in rough tones of voice:
"In the sky--flies a leaden bullet,
On the earth--stalks a tiger-beast,
On the table--lies a pair of scissors,
In the room--I call the stable-boy."
The other two sons-in-law clapped their hands and began to laugh
loudly.
"Why the four lines do not rime at all," said they, "and, besides
they do not make sense. A leaden bullet is no bird, the stable-boy
does his work outside, would you call him into the room? Nonsense,
nonsense! Drink!"
Yet before they had finished speaking, the third daughter raised the
curtain of the women's room, and stepped out. She was angry, yet she
could not suppress a smile.
"How so do our lines not make sense?" said she. "Listen a moment, and
I'll explain them to you: In the sky our leaden bullet will shoot your
phenix and your turtle-dove. On the earth our tiger-beast will devour
your sheep and your ox. On the table our pair of scissors will cut up
all your old books. And finally, in the room--well, the stable-boy can
marry your maid!"
Then the oldest son-in-law said: "Well scolded! Sister-in-law, you
know how to talk! If you were a man you would have had your degree
long ago. And, as a punishment, we will empty our three glasses."
Note: This is also a fairy-tale traditionally handed
down.
III
HOW GREED FOR A TRIFLING THING LED A MAN TO LOSE A GREAT ONE
Once upon a time there was an old woman, who had two sons. But her
older son did not love his parents, and left his mother and brother.
The younger one served her so faithfully, however, that all the people
spoke of his filial affection.
One day it happened that there was a theatrical performance given
outside the village. The younger son started to carry his mother there
on his back, so that she might look on. But there was a ravine before
the village, and he slipped and fell down in the middle of it. And his
mother was killed by the rolling stones, and her blood and flesh were
sprinkled about everywhere. The son stroked his mother's corpse, and
wept bitterly. He was about to kill himself when, suddenly, he saw a
priest standing before him.
The latter said: "Have no fear, for I can bring your mother back to
life again!" And as he said so, he stooped, gathered up her flesh and
bones, and laid them together as they should be. Then he breathed upon
them, and at once the mother was alive again. This made the son very
happy, and he thanked the priest on his knees. Yet on a sharp point of
rock he still saw a bit of his mother's flesh hanging, a bit about an
inch long.
"That should not be left hanging there either," said he, and hid it in
his breast.
"In truth, you love your mother as a son should," said the priest.
Then he bade the son give him the bit of flesh, kneaded a manikin out
of it, breathed upon it, and in a minute there it stood, a really
fine-looking little boy.
"His name is Small Profit," said he, turning to the son, "and you may
call him brother. You are poor and have not the wherewithal with which
to nourish your mother. If you need something, Small Profit can get it
for you."
The son thanked him once more, then took his mother on his back again,
and his new little brother by the hand, and went home. And when he
said to Small Profit: "Bring meat and wine!" then meat and wine were
at hand at once, and steaming rice was already cooking in the pot. And
when he said to Small Profit: "Bring money and cloth!" then his purse
filled itself with money, and the chests were heaped up with cloth to
the brim. Whatever he asked for that he received. Thus, in the course
of time, they came to be very well off indeed.
But his older brother envied him greatly. And when there was another
theatrical performance in the village, he took his mother on his
back--by force--and went to it. And when he reached the ravine, he
slipped purposely, and let his mother fall into the depths, only
intent to see that she really was shattered into fragments. And sure
enough his mother had such a bad fall that her limbs and trunk were
strewn around in all directions. He then climbed down, took his
mother's head in his hands, and pretended to weep.
And at once the priest was on hand again, and said: "I can wake the
dead to life again, and surround white bones with flesh and blood!"
Then he did as he had done before, and the mother came to life again.
But the older brother already had hidden one of her ribs on purpose.
He now pulled it out and said to the priest: "Here is a bone left.
What shall I do with it?"
The priest took the bone, enclosed it in lime and earth, breathed upon
it, as he had done the other time, and it became a little man,
resembling Small Profit, but larger in stature.
"His name is Great Duty," he told his older brother, "if you stick to
him he will always lend you a hand."
The son took his mother back again, and Great Duty walked beside him.
When he came to their courtyard door, he saw his younger brother
coming out, holding Small Profit in his arms.
"Where are you going?" he said to him.
His brother answered: "Small Profit is a divine being, who does not
wish to dwell for all time among men. He wants to fly back to the
heavens, and so I am escorting him."
"Give Small Profit to me! Don't let him get away!" cried the older
brother.
Yet, before he had ended his speech, Small Profit was rising in the
air. The older brother then quickly let his mother drop on the ground,
and stretched out his hand to catch Small Profit. But he did not
succeed, and now Great Duty, too, rose from the ground, took Small
Profit's hand, and together they ascended to the clouds and
disappeared.
Then the older brother stamped on the ground, and said with a sigh:
"Alas, I have lost my Great Duty because I was too greedy for that
Small Profit!"
Note: In China--usually on festive days or because of
some religious celebration--a provisional stage is
erected before the village or temple, and a play given.
Permanent theaters are to be found only in the large
cities.
IV
WHO WAS THE SINNER?
Once upon a time there were ten farmers, who were crossing a field
together. They were surprised by a heavy thunder-storm, and took
refuge in a half-ruined temple. But the thunder drew ever nearer, and
so great was the tumult that the air trembled about them, while the
lightning flew around the temple in a continuous circle. The farmers
were greatly frightened, and thought that there must be a sinner among
them, whom the lightning would strike. In order to find out who it
might be, they agreed to hang their straw hats up before the door, and
he whose hat was blown away was to yield himself up to his fate.
No sooner were the hats outside, than one of them was blown away, and
the rest thrust its unfortunate owner out of doors without pity. But
as soon as he had left the temple the lightning ceased circling
around, and struck it with a crash.
The one whom the rest had thrust out, had been the only righteous one
among them, and for his sake the lightning had spared the temple. So
the other nine had to pay for their hard-heartedness with their lives.
Note: A traditionally narrated fairy-tale.
V
THE MAGIC CASK
Once upon a time there was a man who dug up a big, earthenware cask in
his field. So he took it home with him and told his wife to clean it
out. But when his wife started brushing the inside of the cask, the
cask suddenly began to fill itself with brushes. No matter how many
were taken out, others kept on taking their place. So the man sold the
brushes, and the family managed to live quite comfortably.
Once a coin fell into the cask by mistake. At once the brushes
disappeared and the cask began to fill itself with money. So now the
family became rich; for they could take as much money out of the cask
as ever they wished.
Now the man had an old grandfather at home, who was weak and shaky.
Since there was nothing else he could do, his grandson set him to work
shoveling money out of the cask, and when the old grandfather grew
weary and could not keep on, he would fall into a rage, and shout at
him angrily, telling him he was lazy and did not want to work. One
day, however, the old man's strength gave out, and he fell into the
cask and died. At once the money disappeared, and the whole cask began
to fill itself with dead grandfathers. Then the man had to pull them
all out and have them buried, and for this purpose he had to use up
again all the money he had received. And when he was through, the cask
broke, and he was just as poor as before.
Note: "The Magic Cask" is a traditionally narrated tale.
In Northern China wooden casks or barrels are unknown.
Large vessels, open at the top, of earth or stone are
used to hold water and other liquids.
VI
THE FAVORITE OF FORTUNE AND THE CHILD OF ILL LUCK
Once upon a time there was a proud prince who had a daughter. But the
daughter was a child of ill luck. When it came time for her to marry,
she had all her suitors assemble before her father's palace. She was
going to throw down a ball of red silk among them, and whoever caught
it was to be her husband. Now there were many princes and counts
gathered before the castle, and in their midst there was also a
beggar. And the princess could see dragons crawling into his ears and
crawling out again from his nostrils, for he was a child of luck. So
she threw the ball to the beggar and he caught it.
Her father asked angrily: "Why did you throw the ball into the
beggar's hands?"
"He is a favorite of Fortune," said the princess, "I will marry him,
and then, perhaps, I will share in his good luck."
But her father would not hear of it, and since she insisted, he drove
her from the castle in his rage. So the princess had to go off with
the beggar. She dwelt with him in a little hut, and had to hunt for
herbs and roots, and cook them herself, so that they might have
something to eat; and often they both went hungry.
One day her husband said to her: "I will set out and seek my fortune.
And when I have found it, I will come back again and fetch you." The
princess was willing, and he went away, and was gone for eighteen
years. Meanwhile the princess lived in want and affliction, for her
father remained hard and merciless. If her mother had not secretly
given her food and money, no doubt she would have starved to death
during all that time.
But the beggar found his fortune, and at length became emperor. He
returned and stood before his wife. She however, no longer recognized
him: She only knew that he was the powerful emperor.
He asked her how she were getting along.
"Why do you ask me how I am getting along?" she replied. "I am too far
beneath your notice."
"And who may your husband be!"
"My husband was a beggar. He went away to seek his fortune. That was
eighteen years ago, and he has not yet returned."
"And what have you done during all those long years?"
"I have been waiting for him to return."
"Do you wish to marry some one else, seeing that he has been missing
so long?"
"No, I will remain his wife until I die."
When the emperor saw how faithful his wife was, he told her who he
was, had her clothed in magnificent garments, and took her with him to
his imperial palace. And there they lived in splendor and happiness.
After a few days the emperor said to his wife: "We spend every day in
festivities, as though every day were New Year."
"And why should we not celebrate," answered his wife, "since we have
now become emperor and empress?"
Yet his wife was a child of ill luck. When she had been empress no
more than eighteen days, she fell sick and died. But her husband lived
for many a long year.
Note: "The Favorite of Fortune and the Child of Ill
Luck" is a traditionally narrated fairy-tale. The dragon
is the symbol of imperial rule, and the New Year's
feasts, which old and young celebrate for weeks, is the
greatest of Chinese festivals.
VII
THE BIRD WITH NINE HEADS
Long, long ago, there once lived a king and a queen who had a
daughter. One day, when the daughter went walking in the garden, a
tremendous storm suddenly came up and carried her away with it. Now
the storm had come from the bird with nine heads, who had robbed the
princess, and brought her to his cave. The king did not know whither
his daughter had disappeared, so he had proclaimed throughout the
land: "Whoever brings back the princess may have her for his bride!"
Now a youth had seen the bird as he was carrying the princess to his
cave. This cave, though, was in the middle of a sheer wall of rock.
One could not climb up to it from below, nor could one climb down to
it from above. And as the youth was walking around the rock, another
youth came along and asked him what he was doing there. So the first
youth told him that the bird with nine heads had carried off the
king's daughter, and had brought her up to his cave. The other chap
knew what he had to do. He called together his friends, and they
lowered the youth to the cave in a basket. And when he went into the
cave, he saw the king's daughter sitting there, and washing the wound
of the bird with nine heads; for the hound of heaven had bitten off
his tenth head, and his wound was still bleeding. The princess,
however, motioned to the youth to hide, and he did so. When the king's
daughter had washed his wound and bandaged it, the bird with nine
heads felt so comfortable, that one after another, all his nine heads
fell asleep. Then the youth stepped forth from his hiding-place, and
cut off his nine heads with a sword. But the king's daughter said: "It
would be best if you were hauled up first, and I came after."
"No," said the youth. "I will wait below here, until you are in
safety." At first the king's daughter was not willing; yet at last she
allowed herself to be persuaded, and climbed into the basket. But
before she did so, she took a long pin from her hair, broke it into
two halves and gave him one and kept the other. She also divided her
silken kerchief with him, and told him to take good care of both her
gifts. But when the other man had drawn up the king's daughter, he
took her along with him, and left the youth in the cave, in spite of
all his calling and pleading.
The youth now took a walk about the cave. There he saw a number of
maidens, all of whom had been carried off by the bird with nine heads,
and who had perished there of hunger. And on the wall hung a fish,
nailed against it with four nails. When he touched the fish, the
latter turned into a handsome youth, who thanked him for delivering
him, and they agreed to regard each other as brothers. Soon the first
youth grew very hungry. He stepped out in front of the cave to search
for food, but only stones were lying there. Then, suddenly, he saw a
great dragon, who was licking a stone. The youth imitated him, and
before long his hunger had disappeared. He next asked the dragon how
he could get away from the cave, and the dragon nodded his head in the
direction of his tail, as much as to say he should seat himself upon
it. So he climbed up, and in the twinkling of an eye he was down on
the ground, and the dragon had disappeared. He then went on until he
found a tortoise-shell full of beautiful pearls. But they were magic
pearls, for if you flung them into the fire, the fire ceased to burn
and if you flung them into the water, the water divided and you could
walk through the midst of it. The youth took the pearls out of the
tortoise-shell, and put them in his pocket. Not long after he reached
the sea-shore. Here he flung a pearl into the sea, and at once the
waters divided and he could see the sea-dragon. The sea-dragon cried:
"Who is disturbing me here in my own kingdom?" The youth answered: "I
found pearls in a tortoise-shell, and have flung one into the sea, and
now the waters have divided for me."
"If that is the case," said the dragon, "then come into the sea with
me and we will live there together." Then the youth recognized him for
the same dragon whom he had seen in the cave. And with him was the
youth with whom he had formed a bond of brotherhood: He was the
dragon's son.
"Since you have saved my son and become his brother, I am your
father," said the old dragon. And he entertained him hospitably with
food and wine.
One day his friend said to him: "My father is sure to want to reward
you. But accept no money, nor any jewels from him, but only the little
gourd flask over yonder. With it you can conjure up whatever you
wish."
And, sure enough, the old dragon asked him what he wanted by way of a
reward, and the youth answered: "I want no money, nor any jewels. All
I want is the little gourd flask over yonder."
At first the dragon did not wish to give it up, but at last he did let
him have it, after all. And then the youth left the dragon's castle.
When he set his foot on dry land again he felt hungry. At once a table
stood before him, covered with a fine and plenteous meal. He ate and
drank. After he had gone on a while, he felt weary. And there stood an
ass, waiting for him, on which he mounted. After he had ridden for a
while, the ass's gait seemed too uneven, and along came a wagon, into
which he climbed. But the wagon shook him up too, greatly, and he
thought: "If I only had a litter! That would suit me better." No more
had he thought so, than the litter came along, and he seated himself
in it. And the bearers carried him to the city in which dwelt the
king, the queen and their daughter.
When the other youth had brought back the king's daughter, it was
decided to hold the wedding. But the king's daughter was not willing,
and said: "He is not the right man. My deliverer will come and bring
with him half of the long pin for my hair, and half my silken kerchief
as a token." But when the youth did not appear for so long a time, and
the other one pressed the king, the king grew impatient and said: "The
wedding shall take place to-morrow!" Then the king's daughter went
sadly through the streets of the city, and searched and searched in
the hope of finding her deliverer. And this was on the very day that
the litter arrived. The king's daughter saw the half of her silken
handkerchief in the youth's hand, and filled with joy, she led him to
her father. There he had to show his half of the long pin, which
fitted the other exactly, and then the king was convinced that he was
the right, true deliverer. The false bridegroom was now punished, the
wedding celebrated, and they lived in peace and happiness till the end
of their days.
Note: "The Bird With Nine Heads" is a traditionally
narrated fairy-tale. The long hair needle is an example
of the halved jewel used as a sign of recognition by
lovers (see No. 68, "Yang Gui Fe"). The "Fish" in the
cave is the dragon's son, for like East Indian
_Nagaradjas_, the Chinese dragons are often sea-gods.
Gourd flasks often occur as magic talismans in Chinese
fairy-tales, and spirits who serve their owners are
often imprisoned in them. See No. 81.
VIII
THE CAVE OF THE BEASTS
Once upon a time there was a family in which there were seven
daughters. One day when the father went out to gather wood, he found
seven wild duck eggs. He brought them home, but did not think of
giving any to his children, intending to eat them himself, with his
wife. In the evening the oldest daughter woke up, and asked her mother
what she was cooking. The mother said: "I am cooking wild duck eggs. I
will give you one, but you must not let your sisters know." And so she
gave her one. Then the second daughter woke up, and asked her mother
what she was cooking. She said: "Wild duck eggs. If you will not tell
your sisters, I'll give you one." And so it went. At last the
daughters had eaten all the eggs, and there were none left.
In the morning the father was very angry with the children, and said:
"Who wants to go along to grandmother?" But he intended to lead the
children into the mountains, and let the wolves devour them there. The
older daughters suspected this, and said: "We are not going along!"
But the two younger ones said: "We will go with you." And so they
drove off with their father. After they had driven a good ways, they
asked: "Will we soon get to grandmother's house?" "Right away," said
their father. And when they had reached the mountains he told them:
"Wait here. I will drive into the village ahead of you, and tell
grandmother that you are coming." And then he drove off with the
donkey-cart. They waited and waited, but their father did not come. At
last they decided that their father would not come back to fetch them,
and that he had left them alone in the mountains. So they went further
and further into the hills seeking a shelter for the night. Then they
spied a great stone. This they selected for a pillow, and rolled it
over to the place where they were going to lie down to sleep. And then
they saw that the stone was the door to a cave. There was a light in
the cave, and they went into it. The light they had seen came from the
many precious stones and jewels of every sort in the cave, which
belonged to a wolf and a fox. They had a number of jars of precious
stones and pearls that shone by night. The girls said: "What a lovely
cave this is! We will lie right down and go to bed." For there stood
two golden beds with gold-embroidered covers. So they lay down and
fell asleep. During the night the wolf and fox came home. And the
wolf said: "I smell human flesh!" But the fox replied: "Oh, nonsense!
There are no human beings who can enter our cave. We lock it up too
well for that." The wolf said: "Very well, then let us lie down in our
beds and sleep." But the fox answered: "Let us curl up in the kettles
on the hearth. They still hold a little warmth from the fire." The one
kettle was of gold and the other of silver, and they curled up in
them.
When the girls rose early in the morning, they saw the wolf and the
fox lying there, and were much frightened. And they put the covers on
the kettles and heaped a number of big stones on them, so that the
wolf and the fox could not get out again. Then they made a fire. The
wolf and the fox said: "Oh, how nice and warm it is this morning! How
does that happen?" But at length it grew too hot for them. Then they
noticed that the two girls had kindled a fire and they cried: "Let us
out! We will give you lots of precious stones, and lots of gold, and
will do you no harm!" But the girls would not listen to them, and kept
on making a bigger fire. So that was the end of the wolf and the fox
in the kettles.
Then the girls lived happily for a number of days in the cave. But
their father was seized with a longing for his daughters, and he went
into the mountains to look for them. And he sat right down on the
stone in front of the cave to rest, and tapped his pipe against it to
empty the ashes. Then the girls within called out: "Who is knocking at
our door?" And the father said: "Are those not my daughters' voices?"
While the daughters replied: "Is that not our father's voice?" Then
they pushed aside the stone and saw that it was their father, and
their father was glad to see them once more. He was much surprised to
think that they should have chanced on this cave full of precious
stones, and they told him the whole story. Then their father fetched
people to help him carry home the jewels. And when they got home, his
wife wondered where he had obtained all these treasures. So the father
and daughters told her everything, and they became a very wealthy
family, and lived happily to the end of their days.
Note: "The Cave of the Beasts" is traditionally
narrated.
IX
THE PANTHER
Once upon a time there was a widow who had two daughters and a little
son. And one day the mother said to her daughters: "Take good care of
the house, for I am going to see grandmother, together with your
little brother!" So the daughters promised her they would do so, and
their mother went off. On her way a panther met her, and asked where
she were going.
She said: "I am going with my child to see my mother."
"Will you not rest a bit?" asked the panther.
"No," said she, "it is already late, and it is a long road to where my
mother lives."
But the panther did not cease urging her, and finally she gave in and
sat down by the road side.
"I will comb your hair a bit," said the panther. And the woman allowed
the panther to comb her hair. But as he passed his claws through her
hair, he tore off a bit of her skin and devoured it.
"Stop!" cried the woman, "the way you comb my hair hurts!"
But the panther tore off a much larger piece of skin. Now the woman
wanted to call for help, but the panther seized and devoured her. Then
he turned on her little son and killed him too, put on the woman's
clothes, and laid the child's bones, which he had not yet devoured, in
her basket. After that he went to the woman's home, where her two
daughters were, and called in at the door: "Open the door, daughters!
Mother has come home!" But they looked out through a crack and said:
"Our mother's eyes are not so large as yours!"
Then the panther said: "I have been to grandmother's house, and saw
her hens laying eggs. That pleases me, and is the reason why my eyes
have grown so large."
"Our mother had no spots in her face such as you have."
"Grandmother had no spare bed, so I had to sleep on the peas, and they
pressed themselves into my face."
"Our mother's feet are not so large as yours."
"Stupid things! That comes from walking such a distance. Come, open
the door quickly!"
Then the daughters said to each other: "It must be our mother," and
they opened the door. But when the panther came in, they saw it was
not really their mother after all.
At evening, when the daughters were already in bed, the panther was
still gnawing the bones he had brought with him.
Then the daughters asked: "Mother, what are you eating?"
"I'm eating beets," was the answer.
Then the daughters said: "Oh, mother, give us some of your beets,
too! We are so hungry!"
"No," was the reply, "I will not give you any. Now be quiet and go to
sleep."
But the daughters kept on begging until the false mother gave them a
little finger. And then they saw that it was their little brother's
finger, and they said to each other: "We must make haste to escape
else he will eat us as well." And with that they ran out of the door,
climbed up into a tree in the yard, and called down to the false
mother: "Come out! We can see our neighbor's son celebrating his
wedding!" But it was the middle of the night.
Then the mother came out, and when she saw that they were sitting in
the tree, she called out angrily: "Why, I'm not able to climb!"
The daughters said: "Get into a basket and throw us the rope and we
will draw you up!"
The mother did as they said. But when the basket was half-way up, they
began to swing it back and forth, and bump it against the tree. Then
the false mother had to turn into a panther again, lest she fall down.
And the panther leaped out of the basket, and ran away.
Gradually daylight came. The daughters climbed down, seated themselves
on the doorstep, and cried for their mother. And a needle-vender came
by and asked them why they were crying.
"A panther has devoured our mother and our brother," said the girls.
"He has gone now, but he is sure to return and devour us as well."
Then the needle-vender gave them a pair of needles, and said: "Stick
these needles in the cushion of the arm chair, with the points up."
The girls thanked him and went on crying.
Soon a scorpion-catcher came by; and he asked them why they were
crying. "A panther has devoured our mother and brother," said the
girls. "He has gone now, but he is sure to return and devour us as
well."
The man gave them a scorpion and said: "Put it behind the hearth in
the kitchen." The girls thanked him and went on crying.
Then an egg-seller came by and asked them why they were crying. "A
panther has devoured our mother and our brother," said the girls. "He
has gone now, but he is sure to return and devour us as well."
So he gave them an egg and said: "Lay it beneath the ashes in the
hearth." The girls thanked him and went on crying.
Then a dealer in turtles came by, and they told him their tale. He
gave them a turtle and said: "Put it in the water-barrel in the yard."
And then a man came by who sold wooden clubs. He asked them why they
were crying. And they told him the whole story. Then he gave them two
wooden clubs and said: "Hang them up over the door to the street." The
girls thanked him and did as the men had told them.
In the evening the panther came home. He sat down in the armchair in
the room. Then the needles in the cushion stuck into him. So he ran
into the kitchen to light the fire and see what had jabbed him so; and
then it was that the scorpion hooked his sting into his hand. And when
at last the fire was burning, the egg burst and spurted into one of
his eyes, which was blinded. So he ran out into the yard and dipped
his hand into the water-barrel, in order to cool it; and then the
turtle bit it off. And when in his pain he ran out through the door
into the street, the wooden clubs fell on his head and that was the
end of him.
Note: "The Panther" in this tale is in reality the same
beast as "the talking silver fox" in No. 49, and the
fairy-tale is made up of motives to be found in "Little
Red Riding-Hood," "The Wolf and the Seven Kids," and
"The Vagabonds."
X
THE GREAT FLOOD
Once upon a time there was a widow, who had a child. And the child was
a kind-hearted boy of whom every one was fond. One day he said to his
mother: "All the other children have a grandmother, but I have none.
And that makes me feel very sad!"
"We will hunt up a grandmother for you," said his mother. Now it once
happened that an old beggar-woman came to the house, who was very old
and feeble. And when the child saw her, he said to her: "You shall be
my grandmother!" And he went to his mother and said: "There is a
beggar-woman outside, whom I want for my grandmother!" And his mother
was willing and called her into the house; though the old woman was
very dirty. So the boy said to his mother: "Come, let us wash
grandmother!" And they washed the woman. But she had a great many
burrs in her hair, so they picked them all out and put them in a jar,
and they filled the whole jar. Then the grandmother said: "Do not
throw them away, but bury them in the garden. And you must not dig
them up again before the great flood comes."
"When is the great flood coming?" asked the boy.
"When the eyes of the two stone lions in front of the prison grow red,
then the great flood will come," said the grandmother.
So the boy went to look at the lions, but their eyes were not yet
red. And the grandmother also said to him: "Make a little wooden ship
and keep it in a little box." And this the boy did. And he ran to the
prison every day and looked at the lions, much to the astonishment of
the people in the street.
One day, as he passed the chicken-butcher's shop, the butcher asked
him why he was always running to the lions. And the boy said: "When
the lions' eyes grow red then the great flood will come." But the
butcher laughed at him. And the following morning, quite early, he
took some chicken-blood and rubbed it on the lions' eyes. When the boy
saw that the lions' eyes were red he ran swiftly home, and told his
mother and grandmother. And then his grandmother said: "Dig up the jar
quickly, and take the little ship out of its box." And when they dug
up the jar, it was filled with the purest pearls and the little ship
grew larger and larger, like a real ship. Then the grandmother said:
"Take the jar with you and get into the ship. And when the great flood
comes, then you may save all the animals that are driven into it; but
human beings, with their black heads, you are not to save." So they
climbed into the ship, and the grandmother suddenly disappeared.
Now it began to rain, and the rain kept falling more and more heavily
from the heavens. Finally there were no longer any single drops
falling, but just one big sheet of water which flooded everything.
Then a dog came drifting along, and they saved him in their ship. Soon
after came a pair of mice, with their little ones, loudly squeaking in
their fear. And these they also saved. The water was already rising to
the roofs of the houses, and on one roof stood a cat, arching her back
and mewing pitifully. They took the cat into the ship, too. Yet the
flood increased and rose to the tops of the trees. And in one tree sat
a raven, beating his wings and cawing loudly. And him, too, they took
in. Finally a swarm of bees came flying their way. The little
creatures were quite wet, and could hardly fly. So they took in the
bees on their ship. At last a man with black hair floated by on the
waves. The boy said: "Mother, let us save him, too!" But the mother
did not want to do so. "Did not grandmother tell us that we must save
no black-headed human beings?" But the boy answered: "We will save the
man in spite of that. I feel sorry for him, and cannot bear to see him
drifting along in the water." So they also saved the man.
Gradually the water subsided. Then they got out of their ship, and
parted from the man and the beasts. And the ship grew small again and
they put it away in its box.
But the man was filled with a desire for the pearls. He went to the
judge and entered a complaint against the boy and his mother, and they
were both thrown into jail. Then the mice came, and dug a hole in the
wall. And the dog came through the hole and brought them meat, and the
cat brought them bread, so they did not have to hunger in their
prison. But the raven flew off and returned with a letter for the
judge. The letter had been written by a god, and it said: "I wandered
about in the world of men disguised as a beggar woman. And this boy
and his mother took me in. The boy treated me like his own
grandmother, and did not shrink from washing me when I was dirty.
Because of this I saved them out of the great flood by means of which
I destroyed the sinful city wherein they dwelt. Do you, O judge, free
them, or misfortune shall be your portion!"
So the judge had them brought before him, and asked what they had
done, and how they had made their way through the flood. Then they
told him everything, and what they said agreed with the god's letter.
So the judge punished their accuser, and set them both at liberty.
When the boy had grown up he came to a city of many people, and it was
said that the princess intended to take a husband. But in order to
find the right man, she had veiled herself, and seated herself in a
litter, and she had had the litter, together with many others, carried
into the market place. In every litter sat a veiled woman, and the
princess was in their midst. And whoever hit upon the right litter, he
was to get the princess for his bride. So the youth went there, too,
and when he reached the market place, he saw the bees whom he had
saved from the great flood, all swarming about a certain litter. Up he
stepped to it, and sure enough, the princess was sitting in it. And
then their wedding was celebrated, and they lived happily ever
afterward.
Note: "The Great Flood" is traditionally narrated and a
diluvian legend seems to underlie it. Compare with
Grimm's fairy-tale (No. 73) "The Queen of the Bees."
XI
THE FOX AND THE TIGER
Once a fox met a tiger. The latter bared his teeth, stretched out his
claws, and was about to devour him. But the fox spoke and said: "My
dear sir, you must not think that you are the only king of beasts.
Your courage does not compare with my own. Let us walk together, and
do you keep behind me. And if men catch sight of me and do not fear
me, then you may devour me." The tiger was willing, and so the fox led
him along a broad highway. But the travelers, when they saw the tiger
in the distance, were all frightened and ran away.
Then the fox said: "How about it? I went in advance, and the men saw
me and had not as yet seen you."
And thereupon the tiger drew in his tail and ran away himself.
The tiger had remarked quite well that the men were afraid of the fox,
but he had not noticed that the fox had borrowed the terror he
inspired from him.
Note: This universally known fable is traditionally
narrated. Animal fables are very rare in China.
XII
THE TIGER'S DECOY
That the fox borrowed the terror he inspired from the tiger is more
than a simile; but that the tiger has his decoy is something we read
about in the story books, and grandfathers talk about a good deal,
too. So there must be some truth in it. It is said that when a tiger
devours a human being, the latter's spirit cannot free itself, and
that the tiger then uses it for a decoy. When he goes out to seek his
prey, the spirit of the man he has devoured must go before him, to
hide him, so that people cannot see him. And the spirit is apt to
change itself into a beautiful girl, or a lump of gold or a bolt of
silk. All sorts of deceptions are used to lure folk into the mountain
gorges. Then the tiger comes along and devours his victim, and the new
spirit must serve as his decoy. The old spirit's time of service is
over and it may go. And so it continues, turn by turn. Probably that
is why they say of people who are forced to yield themselves up to
cunning and powerful men, in order that others may be harmed: "They
are the tiger's decoys!"
Note: This tale is traditionally narrated.
XIII
THE FOX AND THE RAVEN
The fox knows how to flatter, and how to play many cunning tricks.
Once upon a time he saw a raven, who alighted on a tree with a piece
of meat in his beak. The fox seated himself beneath the tree, looked
up at him, and began to praise him.
"Your color," he began, "is pure black. This proves to me that you
possess all the wisdom of Laotzse, who knows how to shroud his
learning in darkness. The manner in which you manage to feed your
mother shows that your filial affection equals that which the Master
Dsong had for his parents. Your voice is rough and strong. It proves
that you have the courage with which King Hiang once drove his foes to
flight by the mere sound of his voice. In truth, you are the king of
birds!"
The raven, hearing this, was filled with joy and said: "I thank you! I
thank you!"
And before he knew it, the meat fell to earth from his opened beak.
The fox caught it up, devoured it and then said, laughing: "Make note
of this, my dear sir: if some one praises you without occasion, he is
sure to have a reason for doing so."
Note: Traditionally narrated, it may be taken for
granted that this is simply Æsop's fable in Chinese
dress. The manner of presentation is characteristically
Chinese. For "the wisdom of Laotzse" compare, p. 30,
"The Ancient's Book of Wisdom and Life": "Who sees his
light, yet dwells in darkness." Master Dsong was King
Dsi's most faithful pupil, renowned for his piety. The
raven is known in China as "the bird of filial love,"
for it is said that the young ravens bring forth the
food they have eaten from their beaks again, in order to
feed the old birds.
XIV
WHY DOG AND CAT ARE ENEMIES
Once upon a time there was a man and his wife and they had a ring of
gold. It was a lucky ring, and whoever owned it always had enough to
live on. But this they did not know, and hence sold the ring for a
small sum. But no sooner was the ring gone than they began to grow
poorer and poorer, and at last did not know when they would get their
next meal. They had a dog and a cat, and these had to go hungry as
well. Then the two animals took counsel together as to how they might
restore to their owners their former good fortune. At length the dog
hit upon an idea.
"They must have the ring back again," he said to the cat.
The cat answered: "The ring has been carefully locked up in the
chest, where no one can get at it."
"You must catch a mouse," said the dog, "and the mouse must gnaw a
hole in the chest and fetch out the ring. And if she does not want to,
say that you will bite her to death, and you will see that she will do
it."
This advice pleased the cat, and she caught a mouse. Then she wanted
to go to the house in which stood the chest, and the dog came after.
They came to a broad river. And since the cat could not swim, the dog
took her on his back and swam across with her. Then the cat carried
the mouse to the house in which the chest stood. The mouse gnawed a
hole in the chest, and fetched out the ring. The cat put the ring in
her mouth and went back to the river, where the dog was waiting for
her, and swam across with her. Then they started out together for
home, in order to bring the lucky ring to their master and mistress.
But the dog could only run along the ground; when there was a house in
the way he always had to go around it. The cat, however, quickly
climbed over the roof, and so she reached home long before the dog,
and brought the ring to her master.
Then her master said to his wife: "What a good creature the cat is! We
will always give her enough to eat and care for her as though she were
our own child!"
But when the dog came home they beat him and scolded him, because he
had not helped to bring home the ring again. And the cat sat by the
fireplace, purred and said never a word. Then the dog grew angry at
the cat, because she had robbed him of his reward, and when he saw her
he chased her and tried to seize her.
And ever since that day cat and dog are enemies.
Note: "Why Dog and Cat are Enemies." This fairy-tale is
given in the current popular version.
LEGENDS OF THE GODS
XV
HOW THE FIVE ANCIENTS BECAME MEN
Before the earth was separated from the heavens, all there was was a
great ball of watery vapor called chaos. And at that time the spirits
of the five elemental powers took shape, and became the five Ancients.
The first was called the Yellow Ancient, and he was the ruler of the
earth. The second was called the Red Lord, and he was the ruler of the
fire. The third was called the Dark Lord, and he was the ruler of the
water. The fourth was known as the Wood Prince, and he was the ruler
of the wood. The fifth was called the Mother of Metals, and ruled over
them. These five Ancients set all their primal spirit into motion, so
that water and earth sank down. The heavens floated upward, and the
earth grew firm in the depths. Then they allowed the waters to gather
into rivers and seas, and hills and plains made their appearance. So
the heavens opened and the earth was divided. And there were sun, moon
and all the stars, wind, clouds, rain, and dew. The Yellow Ancient set
earth's purest power spinning in a circle, and added the effect of
fire and water thereto. Then there came forth grasses and trees, birds
and beasts, and the tribes of the serpents and insects, fishes and
turtles. The Wood Prince and the Mother of Metals combined light and
darkness, and thus created the human race as men and women. And thus
the world gradually came to be.
At that time there was one who was known as the True Prince of the
Jasper Castle. He had acquired the art of sorcery through the
cultivation of magic. The five Ancients begged him to rule as the
supreme god. He dwelt above the three and thirty heavens, and the
Jasper Castle, of white jade with golden gates, was his. Before him
stood the stewards of the eight-and-twenty houses of the moon, and the
gods of the thunders and the Great Bear, and in addition a class of
baneful gods whose influence was evil and deadly. They all aided the
True Prince of the Jasper Castle to rule over the thousand tribes
under the heavens, and to deal out life and death, fortune and
misfortune. The Lord of the Jasper Castle is now known as the Great
God, the White Jade Ruler.
The five Ancients withdrew after they had done their work, and
thereafter lived in quiet purity. The Red Lord dwells in the South as
the god of fire. The Dark Lord dwells in the North, as the mighty
master of the somber polar skies. He lived in a castle of liquid
crystal. In later ages he sent Confucius down upon earth as a saint.
Hence this saint is known as the Son of Crystal. The Wood Prince
dwells in the East. He is honored as the Green Lord, and watches over
the coming into being of all creatures. In him lives the power of
spring and he is the god of love. The Mother of Metals dwells in the
West, by the sea of Jasper, and is also known as the Queen-Mother of
the West. She leads the rounds of the fairies, and watches over change
and growth. The Yellow Ancient dwells in the middle. He is always
going about in the world, in order to save and to help those in any
distress. The first time he came to earth he was the Yellow Lord, who
taught mankind all sorts of arts. In his later years he fathomed the
meaning of the world on the Ethereal Mount, and flew up to the radiant
sun. Under the rule of the Dschou dynasty he was born again as Li
Oerl, and when he was born his hair and beard were white, for which
reason he was called Laotsze, "Old Child." He wrote the book of
"Meaning and Life" and spread his teachings through the world. He is
honored as the head of Taoism. At the beginning of the reign of the
Han dynasty, he again appeared as the Old Man of the River, (Ho Schang
Gung). He spread the teachings of Tao abroad mightily, so that from
that time on Taoism flourished greatly. These doctrines are known to
this day as the teachings of the Yellow Ancient. There is also a
saying: "First Laotsze was, then the heavens were." And that must mean
that Laotsze was that very same Yellow Ancient of primal days.
Note: "How the Five Ancients Became Men." This
fairy-tale, the first of the legends of the gods, is
given in the version current among the people. In it the
five elemental spirits of earth, fire, water, wood and
metal are brought into connection with a creation myth.
"Prince of the Jasper Castle" or "The White Jade Ruler,"
Yu Huang Di, is the popular Chinese synonym for "the
good lord." The phrase "White Jade" serves merely to
express his dignity. All in all, there are 32 other Yu
Huangs, among whom he is the highest. He may be compared
to Indra, who dwells in a heaven that also comprises 33
halls. The astronomic relationship between the two is
very evident.
XVI
THE HERD BOY AND THE WEAVING MAIDEN
The Herd Boy was the child of poor people. When he was twelve years
old, he took service with a farmer to herd his cow. After a few years
the cow had grown large and fat, and her hair shone like yellow gold.
She must have been a cow of the gods.
One day while he had her out at pasture in the mountains, she suddenly
began to speak to the Herd Boy in a human voice, as follows: "This is
the Seventh Day. Now the White Jade Ruler has nine daughters, who
bathe this day in the Sea of Heaven. The seventh daughter is beautiful
and wise beyond all measure. She spins the cloud-silk for the King and
Queen of Heaven, and presides over the weaving which maidens do on
earth. It is for this reason she is called the Weaving Maiden. And if
you go and take away her clothes while she bathes, you may become her
husband and gain immortality."
"But she is up in Heaven," said the Herd Boy, "and how can I get
there?"
"I will carry you there," answered the yellow cow.
So the Herd Boy climbed on the cow's back. In a moment clouds began to
stream out of her hoofs, and she rose into the air. About his ears
there was a whistling like the sound of the wind, and they flew along
as swiftly as lightning. Suddenly the cow stopped.
"Now we are here," said she.
Then round about him the Herd Boy saw forests of chrysophrase and
trees of jade. The grass was of jasper and the flowers of coral. In
the midst of all this splendor lay a great, four-square sea, covering
some five-hundred acres. Its green waves rose and fell, and fishes
with golden scales were swimming about in it. In addition there were
countless magic birds who winged above it and sang. Even in the
distance the Herd Boy could see the nine maidens in the water. They
had all laid down their clothes on the shore.
"Take the red clothes, quickly," said the cow, "and hide away with
them in the forest, and though she ask you for them never so sweetly
do not give them back to her until she has promised to become your
wife."
Then the Herd Boy hastily got down from the cow's back, seized the red
clothes and ran away. At the same moment the nine maidens noticed him
and were much frightened.
"O youth, whence do you come, that you dare to take our clothes?" they
cried. "Put them down again quickly!"
But the Herd Boy did not let what they said trouble him; but crouched
down behind one of the jade trees. Then eight of the maidens hastily
came ashore and drew on their clothes.
"Our seventh sister," said they, "whom Heaven has destined to be
yours, has come to you. We will leave her alone with you."
The Weaving Maiden was still crouching in the water.
But the Herd Boy stood before her and laughed.
"If you will promise to be my wife," said he, "then I will give you
your clothes."
But this did not suit the Weaving Maiden.
"I am a daughter of the Ruler of the Gods," said she, "and may not
marry without his command. Give back my clothes to me quickly, or else
my father will punish you!"
Then the yellow cow said: "You have been destined for each other by
fate, and I will be glad to arrange your marriage, and your father,
the Ruler of the Gods, will make no objection. Of that I am sure."
The Weaving Maiden replied: "You are an unreasoning animal! How could
you arrange our marriage?"
The cow said: "Do you see that old willow-tree there on the shore?
Just give it a trial and ask it. If the willow tree speaks, then
Heaven wishes your union."
And the Weaving Maiden asked the willow.
The willow replied in a human voice:
"This is the Seventh day,
The Herd Boy his court to the Weaver doth pay!"
and the Weaving Maiden was satisfied with the verdict. The Herd Boy
laid down her clothes, and went on ahead. The Weaving Maiden drew them
on and followed him. And thus they became man and wife.
But after seven days she took leave of him.
"The Ruler of Heaven has ordered me to look after my weaving," said
she. "If I delay too long I fear that he will punish me. Yet, although
we have to part now, we will meet again in spite of it."
When she had said these words she really went away. The Herd Boy ran
after her. But when he was quite near she took one of the long needles
from her hair and drew a line with it right across the sky, and this
line turned into the Silver River. And thus they now stand, separated
by the River, and watch for one another.
And since that time they meet once every year, on the eve of the
Seventh Day. When that time comes, then all the crows in the world of
men come flying and form a bridge over which the Weaving Maiden
crosses the Silver River. And on that day you will not see a single
crow in the trees, from morning to night, no doubt because of the
reason I have mentioned. And besides, a fine rain often falls on the
evening of the Seventh Day. Then the women and old grandmothers say to
one another: "Those are the tears which the Herd Boy and the Weaving
Maiden shed at parting!" And for this reason the Seventh Day is a rain
festival.
To the west of the Silver River is the constellation of the Weaving
Maiden, consisting of three stars. And directly in front of it are
three other stars in the form of a triangle. It is said that once the
Herd Boy was angry because the Weaving Maiden had not wished to cross
the Silver River, and had thrown his yoke at her, which fell down just
in front of her feet. East of the Silver River is the Herd Boy's
constellation, consisting of six stars. To one side of it are
countless little stars which form a constellation pointed at both ends
and somewhat broader in the middle. It is said that the Weaving Maiden
in turn threw her spindle at the Herd Boy; but that she did not hit
him, the spindle falling down to one side of him.
Note: "The Herd Boy and the Weaving Maiden" is retold
after an oral source. The Herd Boy is a constellation in
Aquila, the Weaving Maiden one in Lyra. The Silver River
which separates them is the Milky Way. The Seventh Day
of the seventh month is the festival of their reunion.
The Ruler of the Heavens has nine daughters in all, who
dwell in the nine heavens. The oldest married Li Dsing
(comp. "Notscha," No. 18); the second is the mother of
Yang Oerlang (comp. No. 17); the third is the mother of
the planet Jupiter (comp. "Sky O'Dawn," No. 34); and the
fourth dwelt with a pious and industrious scholar, by
name of Dung Yung, whom she aided to win riches and
honor. The seventh is the Spinner, and the ninth had to
dwell on earth as a slave because of some transgression
of which she had been guilty. Of the fifth, the sixth
and the eighth daughters nothing further is known.
XVII
YANG OERLANG
The second daughter of the Ruler of Heaven once came down upon the
earth and secretly became the wife of a mortal man named Yang. And
when she returned to Heaven she was blessed with a son. But the Ruler
of Heaven was very angry at this desecration of the heavenly halls. He
banished her to earth and covered her with the Wu-I hills. Her son,
however, Oerlang by name, the nephew of the Ruler of Heaven, was
extraordinarily gifted by nature. By the time he was full grown he had
learned the magic art of being able to control eight times nine
transformations. He could make himself invisible, or could assume the
shape of birds and beasts, grasses, flowers, snakes and fishes, as he
chose. He also knew how to empty out seas and remove mountains from
one place to another. So he went to the Wu-I hills and rescued his
mother, whom he took on his back and carried away. They stopped to
rest on a flat ledge of rock.
Then the mother said: "I am very thirsty!"
Oerlang climbed down into the valley in order to fetch her water, and
some time passed before he returned. When he did his mother was no
longer there. He searched eagerly, but on the rock lay only her skin
and bones, and a few blood-stains. Now you must know that at that time
there were still ten suns in the heavens, glowing and burning like
fire. The Daughter of Heaven, it is true, was divine by nature; yet
because she had incurred the anger of her father and had been banished
to earth, her magic powers had failed her. Then, too, she had been
imprisoned so long beneath the hills in the dark that, coming out
suddenly into the sunlight, she had been devoured by its blinding
radiance.
When Oerlang thought of his mother's sad end, his heart ached. He took
two mountains on his shoulders, pursued the suns and crushed them to
death between the mountains. And whenever he had crushed another
sun-disk, he picked up a fresh mountain. In this way he had already
slain nine of the ten suns, and there was but one left. And as Oerlang
pursued him relentlessly, he hid himself in his distress beneath the
leaves of the portulacca plant. But there was a rainworm close by who
betrayed his hiding-place, and kept repeating: "There he is! There he
is!"
Oerlang was about to seize him, when a messenger from the Ruler of the
Heaven suddenly descended from the skies with a command: "Sky, air and
earth need the sunshine. You must allow this one sun to live, so that
all created beings may live. Yet, because you rescued your mother, and
showed yourself to be a good son, you shall be a god, and be my
bodyguard in the Highest Heaven, and shall rule over good and evil in
the mortal world, and have power over devils and demons." When Oerlang
received this command he ascended to Heaven.
Then the sun-disk came out again from beneath the portulacca leaves,
and out of gratitude, since the plant had saved him, he bestowed upon
it the gift of a free-blooming nature, and ordained that it never need
fear the sunshine. To this very day one may see on the lower side of
the portulacca leaves quite delicate little white pearls. They are the
sunshine that remained hanging to the leaves when the sun hid under
them. But the sun pursues the rainworm, when he ventures forth out of
the ground, and dries him up as a punishment for his treachery.
Since that time Yang Oerlang has been honored as a god. He has
oblique, sharply marked eyebrows, and holds a double-bladed,
three-pointed sword in his hand. Two servants stand beside him, with a
falcon and a hound; for Yang Oerlang is a great hunter. The falcon is
the falcon of the gods, and the hound is the hound of the gods. When
brute creatures gain possession of magic powers or demons oppress men,
he subdues them by means of the falcon and hound.
Note: Yang Oerlang is a huntsman, as is indicated by his
falcon and hound. His Hound of the Heavens, literally
"the divine, biting hound" recalls the hound of Indra.
The myth that there were originally ten suns in the
skies, of whom nine were shot down by an archer, is also
placed in the period of the ruler Yau. In that story the
archer is named Hou I, or I (comp. No. 19). Here,
instead of the shooting down of the suns with arrows, we
have the Titan motive of destruction with the mountains.
XVIII
NOTSCHA
The oldest daughter of the Ruler of Heaven had married the great
general Li Dsing. Her sons were named Gintscha, Mutscha and Notscha.
But when Notscha was given her, she dreamed at night that a Taoist
priest came into her chamber and said: "Swiftly receive the Heavenly
Son!" And straightway a radiant pearl glowed within her. And she was
so frightened at her dream that she awoke. And when Notscha came into
the world, it seemed as though a ball of flesh were turning in circles
like a wheel, and the whole room was filled with strange fragrances
and a crimson light.
Li Dsing was much frightened, and thought it was an apparition. He
clove the circling ball with his sword, and out of it leaped a small
boy whose whole body glowed with a crimson radiance. But his face was
delicately shaped and white as snow. About his right arm he wore a
golden armlet and around his thighs was wound a length of crimson
silk, whose glittering shine dazzled the eyes. When Li Dsing saw the
child he took pity on him and did not slay him, while his wife began
to love the boy dearly.
When three days had passed, all his friends came to wish him joy. They
were just sitting at the festival meal when a Taoist priest entered
and said: "I am the Great One. This boy is the bright Pearl of the
Beginning of Things, bestowed upon you as your son. Yet the boy is
wild and unruly, and will kill many men. Therefore I will take him as
my pupil to gentle his savage ways." Li Dsing bowed his thanks and the
Great One disappeared.
When Notscha was seven years old he once ran away from home. He came
to the river of nine bends, whose green waters flowed along between
two rows of weeping-willows. The day was hot, and Notscha entered the
water to cool himself. He unbound his crimson silk cloth and whisked
it about in the water to wash it. But while Notscha sat there and
whisked about his scarf in the water, it shook the castle of the
Dragon-King of the Eastern Sea to its very foundations. So the
Dragon-King sent out a Triton, terrible to look upon, who was to find
out what was the matter. When the Triton saw the boy he began to
scold. But the latter merely looked up and said: "What a
strange-looking beast you are, and you can actually talk!" Then the
Triton grew enraged, leaped up and struck at Notscha with his ax. But
the latter avoided the blow, and threw his golden armlet at him. The
armlet struck the Triton on the head and he sank down dead.
Notscha laughed and said: "And there he has gone and made my armlet
bloody!" And he once more sat down on a stone, in order to wash his
armlet. Then the crystal castle of the dragon began to tremble as
though it were about to fall apart. And a watchman also came and
reported that the Triton had been slain by a boy. So the Dragon-King
sent out his son to capture the boy. And the son seated himself on the
water-cleaving beast, and came up with a thunder of great waves of
water. Notscha straightened up and said: "That is a big wave!"
Suddenly he saw a creature rise out of the waves, on whose back sat an
armed man who cried in a loud voice: "Who has slain my Triton?"
Notscha answered: "The Triton wanted to slay me so I killed him. What
difference does it make?" Then the dragon assailed him with his
halberd. But Notscha said: "Tell me who you are before we fight." "I
am the son of the Dragon-King," was the reply. "And I am Notscha, the
son of General Li Dsing. You must not rouse my anger with your
violence, or I will skin you, together with that old mud-fish, your
father!" Then the dragon grew wild with rage, and came storming along
furiously. But Notscha cast his crimson cloth into the air, so that it
flashed like a ball of fire, and cast the dragon-youth from his
breast. Then Notscha took his golden armlet and struck him on the
forehead with it, so that he had to reveal himself in his true form as
a golden dragon, and fall down dead.
Notscha laughed and said: "I have heard tell that dragon-sinews make
good cords. I will draw one out and bring it to my father, and he can
tie his armor together with it." And with that he drew out the
dragon's back sinew and took it home.
In the meantime the Dragon-King, full of fury, had hastened to
Notscha's father Li Dsing and demanded that Notscha be delivered up to
him. But Li Dsing replied: "You must be mistaken, for my boy is only
seven years old and incapable of committing such misdeeds." While they
were still quarreling Notscha came running up and cried: "Father, I'm
bringing along a dragon's sinew for you, so that you may bind up your
armor with it!" Now the dragon broke out into tears and furious
scolding. He threatened to report Li Dsing to the Ruler of the Heaven,
and took himself off, snorting with rage.
Li Dsing grew very much excited, told his wife what had happened, and
both began to weep. Notscha, however, came to them and said: "Why do
you weep? I will just go to my master, the Great One, and he will know
what is to be done." And no sooner had he said the words than he had
disappeared. He came into his master's presence and told him the whole
tale. The latter said: "You must get ahead of the dragon, and prevent
him from accusing you in Heaven!" Then he did some magic, and Notscha
found himself set down by the gate of Heaven, where he waited for the
dragon. It was still early in the morning; the gate of Heaven had not
yet been opened, nor was the watchman at his post. But the dragon was
already climbing up. Notscha, whom his master's magic had rendered
invisible, threw the dragon to the ground with his armlet, and began
to pitch into him. The dragon scolded and screamed. "There the old
worm flounders about," said Notscha, "and does not care how hard he is
beaten! I will scratch off some of his scales." And with these words
he began to tear open the dragon's festal garments, and rip off some
of the scales beneath his left arm, so that the red blood dripped out.
Then the dragon could no longer stand the pain and begged for mercy.
But first he had to promise Notscha that he would not complain of
him, before the latter would let him go. And then the dragon had to
turn himself into a little green snake, which Notscha put into his
sleeve and took back home with him. But no sooner had he drawn the
little snake from his sleeve than it assumed human shape. The dragon
then swore that he would punish Li Dsing in a terrible manner, and
disappeared in a flash of lightning.
Li Dsing was now angry with his son in earnest. Therefore Notscha's
mother sent him to the rear of the house to keep out of his father's
sight. Notscha disappeared and went to his master, in order to ask him
what he should do when the dragon returned. His master advised him and
Notscha went back home. And all the Dragon Kings of the four seas were
assembled, and had bound his parents, with cries and tumult, in order
to punish them. Notscha ran up and cried with a loud voice: "I will
take the punishment for whatever I have done! My parents are
blameless! What is the punishment you wish to lay upon me?" "Life for
life!" said the dragon. "Very well then, I will destroy myself!" And
so he did and the dragons went off satisfied; while Notscha's mother
buried him with many tears.
But the spiritual part of Notscha, his soul, fluttered about in the
air, and was driven by the wind to the cave of the Great One. He took
it in and said to it: "You must appear to your mother! Forty miles
distant from your home rises a green mountain cliff. On this cliff she
must build a shrine for you. And after you have enjoyed the incense of
human adoration for three years, you shall once more have a human
body." Notscha appeared to his mother in a dream, and gave her the
whole message, and she awoke in tears. But Li Dsing grew angry when
she told him about it. "It serves the accursed boy right that he is
dead! It is because you are always thinking of him that he appears to
you in dreams. You must pay no attention to him." The woman said no
more, but thenceforward he appeared to her daily, as soon as she
closed her eyes, and grew more and more urgent in his demand. Finally
all that was left for her to do was to erect a temple for Notscha
without Li Dsing's knowledge.
And Notscha performed great miracles in his temple. All prayers made
in it were granted. And from far away people streamed to it to burn
incense in his honor.
Thus half a year passed. Then Li Dsing, on the occasion of a great
military drill, once came by the cliff in question, and saw the people
crowding thickly about the hill like a swarm of ants. Li Dsing
inquired what there were to see upon the hill. "It is a new god, who
performs so many miracles that people come from far and near to honor
him." "What sort of a god is he?" asked Li Dsing. They did not dare
conceal from him who the god was. Then Li Dsing grew angry. He spurred
his horse up the hill and, sure enough, over the door of the temple
was written: "Notscha's Shrine." And within it was the likeness of
Notscha, just as he had appeared while living. Li Dsing said: "While
you were alive you brought misfortune to your parents. Now that you
are dead you deceive the people. It is disgusting!" With these words
he drew forth his whip, beat Notscha's idolatrous likeness to pieces
with it, had the temple burned down, and the worshipers mildly
reproved. Then he returned home.
Now Notscha had been absent in the spirit upon that day. When he
returned he found his temple destroyed; and the spirit of the hill
gave him the details. Notscha hurried to his master and related with
tears what had befallen him. The latter was roused and said: "It is Li
Dsing's fault. After you had given back your body to your parents,
you were no further concern of his. Why should he withdraw from you
the enjoyment of the incense?" Then the Great One made a body of
lotus-plants, gave it the gift of life, and enclosed the soul of
Notscha within it. This done he called out in a loud voice: "Arise!" A
drawing of breath was heard, and Notscha leaped up once more in the
shape of a small boy. He flung himself down before his master and
thanked him. The latter bestowed upon him the magic of the fiery
lance, and Notscha thenceforward had two whirling wheels beneath his
feet: The wheel of the wind and the wheel of fire. With these he could
rise up and down in the air. The master also gave him a bag of
panther-skin in which to keep his armlet and his silken cloth.
Now Notscha had determined to punish Li Dsing. Taking advantage of a
moment when he was not watched, he went away, thundering along on his
rolling wheels to Li Dsing's dwelling. The latter was unable to
withstand him and fled. He was almost exhausted when his second son,
Mutscha, the disciple of the holy Pu Hain, came to his aid from the
Cave of the White Crane. A violent quarrel took place between the
brothers; they began to fight, and Mutscha was overcome; while Notscha
once more rushed in pursuit of Li Dsing. At the height of his
extremity, however, the holy Wen Dschu of the Hill of the Five
Dragons, the master of Gintscha, Li Dsing's oldest son, stepped forth
and hid Li Dsing in his cave. Notscha, in a rage, insisted that he be
delivered up to him; but Wen Dschu said: "Elsewhere you may indulge
your wild nature to your heart's content, but not in this place."
And when Notscha in the excess of his rage turned his fiery lance upon
him, Wen Dschu stepped back a pace, shook the seven-petaled lotus from
his sleeve, and threw it into the air. A whirlwind arose, clouds and
mists obscured the sight, and sand and earth were flung up from the
ground. Then the whirlwind collapsed with a great crash. Notscha
fainted, and when he regained consciousness found himself bound to a
golden column with three thongs of gold, so that he could no longer
move. Wen Dschu now called Gintscha to him and ordered him to give his
unruly brother a good thrashing. And this he did, while Notscha,
obliged to stand it, stood grinding his teeth. In his extremity he saw
the Great One floating by, and called out to him: "Save me, O Master!"
But the latter did not notice him; instead he entered the cave and
thanked Wen Dschu for the severe lesson which he had given Notscha.
Finally they called Notscha in to them and ordered him to be
reconciled to his father. Then they dismissed them both and seated
themselves to play chess. But no sooner was Notscha free than he again
fell into a rage, and renewed his pursuit of his father. He had again
overtaken Li Dsing when still another saint came forward to defend the
latter. This time it was the old Buddha of the Radiance of the Light.
When Notscha attempted to battle with him he raised his arm, and a
pagoda shaped itself out of red, whirling clouds and closed around
Notscha. Then Radiance of Light placed both his hands on the pagoda
and a fire arose within it which burned Notscha so that he cried
loudly for mercy. Then he had to promise to beg his father's
forgiveness and always to obey him in the future. Not till he had
promised all this did the Buddha let him out of the pagoda again. And
he gave the pagoda to Li Dsing; and taught him a magic saying which
would give him the mastery over Notscha. It is for this reason that Li
Dsing is called the Pagoda-bearing King of Heaven.
Later on Li Dsing and his three sons, Gintscha, Mutscha and Notscha,
aided King Wu of the Dschou dynasty to destroy the tyrant Dschou-Sin.
None could withstand their might. Only once did a sorcerer succeed in
wounding Notscha in the left arm. Any other would have died of the
wound. But the Great One carried him into his cave, healed his wound
and gave him three goblets of the wine of the gods to drink, and three
fire-dates to eat. When Notscha had eaten and drunk he suddenly heard
a crash at his left side and another arm grew out from it. He could
not speak and his eyes stood out from their sockets with horror. But
it went on as it had begun: six more arms grew out of his body and two
more heads, so that finally he had three heads and eight arms. He
called out to his Master: "What does all this mean?" But the latter
only laughed and said: "All is as it should be. Thus equipped you will
really be strong!" Then he taught him a magic incantation by means of
which he could make his arms and heads visible or invisible as he
chose. When the tyrant Dschou-Sin had been destroyed, Li Dsing and his
three sons, while still on earth, were taken up into heaven and seated
among the gods.
Note: Li Dsing, the Pagoda-bearing King of Heaven, may
be traced back to Indra, the Hindoo god of thunder and
lightning. The Pagoda might be an erroneous variant of
the thunderbolt Vadjra. In such case Notscha would be a
personification of the thunder. The Great One (Tai I),
is the condition of things before their separation into
the active and passive principles. There is a whole
genealogy of mythical saints and holy men who took part
in the battles between King Wu of Dschou and the tyrant
Dschou-Sin. These saints are, for the most part,
Buddhist-Brahminic figures which have been reshaped. The
Dragon-King of the Eastern Sea also occurs in the tale
of Sun Wu Kung (No. 74). "Dragon sinew" means the spinal
cord, the distinction between nerves and sinews not
being carefully observed. "Three spirits and seven
souls": man has three spirits, usually above his head,
and seven animal souls. "Notscha had been absent in the
spirit upon that day": the idol is only the seat of the
godhead, which the latter leaves or inhabits as he
chooses. Therefore the godhead must be summoned when
prayers are offered, by means of bells and incense. When
the god is not present, his idol is merely a block of
wood or stone. Pu Hain, the Buddha of the Lion, is the
Indian Samantabharda, one of the four great Boddhisatvas
of the Tantra School. Wen Dschu, the Buddha on the
Golden-haired Mountain Lion, (Hou), is the Indian
Mandjusri. The old Buddha of the Radiance of the Light,
Jan Dong Go Fu, is the Indian Dipamkara.
XIX
THE LADY OF THE MOON
In the days of the Emperor Yau lived a prince by the name of Hou I,
who was a mighty hero and a good archer. Once ten suns rose together
in the sky, and shone so brightly and burned so fiercely that the
people on earth could not endure them. So the Emperor ordered Hou I to
shoot at them. And Hou I shot nine of them down from the sky. Besides
his bow, Hou I also had a horse which ran so swiftly that even the
wind could not catch up with it. He mounted it to go a-hunting, and
the horse ran away and could not be stopped. So Hou I came to Kunlun
Mountain and met the Queen-Mother of the Jasper Sea. And she gave him
the herb of immortality. He took it home with him and hid it in his
room. But his wife who was named Tschang O, once ate some of it on the
sly when he was not at home, and she immediately floated up to the
clouds. When she reached the moon, she ran into the castle there, and
has lived there ever since as the Lady of the Moon.
On a night in mid-autumn, an emperor of the Tang dynasty once sat at
wine with two sorcerers. And one of them took his bamboo staff and
cast it into the air, where it turned into a heavenly bridge, on which
the three climbed up to the moon together. There they saw a great
castle on which was inscribed: "The Spreading Halls of Crystal Cold."
Beside it stood a cassia tree which blossomed and gave forth a
fragrance filling all the air. And in the tree sat a man who was
chopping off the smaller boughs with an ax. One of the sorcerers said:
"That is the man in the moon. The cassia tree grows so luxuriantly
that in the course of time it would overshadow all the moon's
radiance. Therefore it has to be cut down once in every thousand
years." Then they entered the spreading halls. The silver stories of
the castle towered one above the other, and its walls and columns were
all formed of liquid crystal. In the walls were cages and ponds, where
fishes and birds moved as though alive. The whole moon-world seemed
made of glass. While they were still looking about them on all sides
the Lady of the Moon stepped up to them, clad in a white mantle and a
rainbow-colored gown. She smiled and said to the emperor: "You are a
prince of the mundane world of dust. Great is your fortune, since you
have been able to find your way here!" And she called for her
attendants, who came flying up on white birds, and sang and danced
beneath the cassia tree. A pure clear music floated through the air.
Beside the tree stood a mortar made of white marble, in which a jasper
rabbit ground up herbs. That was the dark half of the moon. When the
dance had ended, the emperor returned to earth again with the
sorcerers. And he had the songs which he had heard on the moon written
down and sung to the accompaniment of flutes of jasper in his
pear-tree garden.
Note: This fairy-tale is traditional. The archer Hou I
(or Count I, the Archer-Prince, comp. Dschuang Dsi), is
placed by legend in different epochs. He also occurs in
connection with the myths regarding the moon, for one
tale recounts how he saved the moon during an eclipse by
means of his arrows. The Queen-Mother is Si Wang Mu
(comp. with No. 15). The Tang dynasty reigned 618-906
A.D. "The Spreading Halls of Crystal Cold": The goddess
of the ice also has her habitation in the moon. The hare
in the moon is a favorite figure. He grinds the grains
of maturity or the herbs that make the elixir of life.
The rain-toad Tschan, who has three legs, is also placed
on the moon. According to one version of the story,
Tschang O took the shape of this toad.
[Illustration: "BESIDE IT STOOD A CASSIA-TREE."
--_Page 54_]
XX
THE MORNING AND THE EVENING STAR
Once upon a time there were two stars, sons of the Golden King of the
Heavens. The one was named Tschen and the other Shen. One day they
quarreled, and Tschen struck Shen a terrible blow. Thereupon both
stars made a vow that they would never again look upon each other. So
Tschen only appears in the evening, and Shen only appears in the
morning, and not until Tschen has disappeared is Shen again to be
seen. And that is why people say: "When two brothers do not live
peaceably with one another they are like Tschen and Shen."
Note: Tschen and Shen are Hesperus and Lucifer, the
morning and evening stars. The tale is told in its
traditional form.
XXI
THE GIRL WITH THE HORSE'S HEAD OR THE SILKWORM GODDESS
In the dim ages of the past there once was an old man who went on a
journey. No one remained at home save his only daughter and a white
stallion. The daughter fed the horse day by day, but she was lonely
and yearned for her father.
So it happened that one day she said in jest to the horse: "If you
will bring back my father to me then I will marry you!"
No sooner had the horse heard her say this, than he broke loose and
ran away. He ran until he came to the place where her father was. When
her father saw the horse, he was pleasantly surprised, caught him and
seated himself on his back. And the horse turned back the way he had
come, neighing without a pause.
"What can be the matter with the horse?" thought the father.
"Something must have surely gone wrong at home!" So he dropped the
reins and rode back. And he fed the horse liberally because he had
been so intelligent; but the horse ate nothing, and when he saw the
girl, he struck out at her with his hoofs and tried to bite her. This
surprised the father; he questioned his daughter, and she told him the
truth, just as it had occurred.
"You must not say a word about it to any one," spoke her father, "or
else people will talk about us."
And he took down his crossbow, shot the horse, and hung up his skin in
the yard to dry. Then he went on his travels again.
One day his daughter went out walking with the daughter of a
neighbor. When they entered the yard, she pushed the horse-hide with
her foot and said: "What an unreasonable animal you were--wanting to
marry a human being! What happened to you served you right!"
But before she had finished her speech, the horse-hide moved, rose up,
wrapped itself about the girl and ran off.
Horrified, her companion ran home to her father and told him what had
happened. The neighbors looked for the girl everywhere, but she could
not be found.
At last, some days afterward, they saw the girl hanging from the
branches of a tree, still wrapped in the horse-hide; and gradually she
turned into a silkworm and wove a cocoon. And the threads which she
spun were strong and thick. Her girl friend then took down the cocoon
and let her slip out of it; and then she spun the silk and sold it at
a large profit.
But the girl's relatives longed for her greatly. So one day the girl
appeared riding in the clouds on her horse, followed by a great
company and said: "In heaven I have been assigned to the task of
watching over the growing of silkworms. You must yearn for me no
longer!" And thereupon they built temples to her in her native land,
and every year, at the silkworm season, sacrifices are offered to her
and her protection is implored. And the Silkworm Goddess is also known
as the girl with the Horse's Head.
Note: This tale is placed in the times of the Emperor
Hau, and the legend seems to have originated in
Setchuan. The stallion is the sign of the zodiac which
rules the springtime, the season when the silkworms are
cultivated. Hence she is called the Goddess with the
Horse's Head. The legend itself tells a different tale.
In addition to this goddess, the spouse of Schen Nung,
the "Divine Husbandman," is also worshiped as the
goddess of silkworm culture. The Goddess with the
Horse's Head is more of a totemic representation of the
silkworm as such; while the wife of Schen Nung is
regarded as the protecting goddess of silk culture, and
is supposed to have been the first to teach women its
details. The spouse of the Yellow Lord is mentioned in
the same connection. The popular belief distinguishes
three goddesses who protect the silkworm culture in
turn. The second is the best of the three, and when it
is her year the silk turns out well.
XXII
THE QUEEN OF HEAVEN
The Queen of Heaven, who is also known as the Holy Mother, was in
mortal life a maiden of Fukien, named Lin. She was pure, reverential
and pious in her ways and died at the age of seventeen. She shows her
power on the seas and for this reason the seamen worship her. When
they are unexpectedly attacked by wind and waves, they call on her and
she is always ready to hear their pleas.
There are many seamen in Fukien, and every year people are lost at
sea. And because of this, most likely, the Queen of Heaven took pity
on the distress of her people during her lifetime on earth. And since
her thoughts are uninterruptedly turned toward aiding the drowning in
their distress, she now appears frequently on the seas.
In every ship that sails a picture of the Queen of Heaven hangs in the
cabin, and three paper talismans are also kept on shipboard. On the
first she is painted with crown and scepter, on the second as a maiden
in ordinary dress, and on the third she is pictured with flowing hair,
barefoot, standing with a sword in her hand. When the ship is in
danger the first talisman is burnt, and help comes. But if this is of
no avail, then the second and finally the third picture is burned. And
if no help comes then there is nothing more to be done.
When seamen lose their course among wind and waves and darkling
clouds, they pray devoutly to the Queen of Heaven. Then a red lantern
appears on the face of the waters. And if they follow the lantern they
will win safe out of all danger. The Queen of Heaven may often be seen
standing in the skies, dividing the wind with her sword. When she does
this the wind departs for the North and South, and the waves grow
smooth.
A wooden wand is always kept before her holy picture in the cabin. It
often happens that the fish-dragons play in the seas. They are two
giant fish who spout up water against one another till the sun in the
sky is obscured, and the seas are shrouded in profound darkness. And
often, in the distance, one may see a bright opening in the darkness.
If the ship holds a course straight for this opening it will win
through, and is suddenly floating in calm waters again. Looking back,
one may see the two fishes still spouting water, and the ship will
have passed directly beneath their jaws. But a storm is always near
when the fish dragons swim; therefore it is well to burn paper or wool
so that the dragons do not draw the ship down into the depths. Or the
Master of the Wand may burn incense before the wand in the cabin. Then
he must take the wand and swing it over the water three times, in a
circle. If he does so the dragons will draw in their tails and
disappear.
When the ashes in the censer fly up into the air without any cause,
and are scattered about, it is a sign that great danger is
threatening.
Nearly two-hundred years ago an army was fitted out to subdue the
island of Formosa. The captain's banner had been dedicated with the
blood of a white horse. Suddenly the Queen of Heaven appeared at the
tip of the banner-staff. In another moment she had disappeared, but
the invasion was successful.
On another occasion, in the days of Kien Lung, the minister Dschou
Ling was ordered to install a new king in the Liu-Kiu Islands. When
the fleet was sailing by south of Korea, a storm arose, and his ship
was driven toward the Black Whirlpool. The water had the color of ink,
sun and moon lost their radiance, and the word was passed about that
the ship had been caught in the Black Whirlpool, from which no living
man had ever returned. The seaman and travelers awaited their end with
lamentations. Suddenly an untold number of lights, like red lanterns,
appeared on the surface of the water. Then the seamen were overjoyed
and prayed in the cabins. "Our lives are saved!" they cried, "the Holy
Mother has come to our aid!" And truly, a beautiful maiden with golden
earrings appeared. She waved her hand in the air and the winds became
still and the waves grew even. And it seemed as though the ship were
being drawn along by a mighty hand. It moved plashing through the
waves, and suddenly it was beyond the limits of the Black Whirlpool.
Dschou Ling on his return told of this happening, and begged that
temples be erected in honor of the Queen of Heaven, and that she be
included in the list of the gods. And the emperor granted his prayer.
Since then temples of the Queen of Heaven are to be found in all
sea-port towns, and her birthday is celebrated on the eighth day of
the fourth month with spectacles and sacrifices.
Note: "The Queen of Heaven," whose name is Tian Hou, or
more exactly, Tian Fe Niang Niang, is a Taoist goddess
of seamen, generally worshiped in all coast towns. Her
story is principally made up of local legends of Fukien
province, and a variation of the Indian Maritschi (who
as Dschunti with the eight arms, is the object of quite
a special cult). Tian Hou, since the establishment of
the Manchu dynasty, is one of the officially recognized
godheads.
XXIII
THE FIRE-GOD
Long before the time of Fu Hi, Dschu Yung, the Magic Welder, was the
ruler of men. He discovered the use of fire, and succeeding
generations learned from him to cook their food. Hence his descendants
were intrusted with the preservation of fire, while he himself was
made the Fire-God. He is a personification of the Red Lord, who showed
himself at the beginning of the world as one of the Five Ancients. The
Fire-God is worshiped as the Lord of the Holy Southern Mountain. In
the skies the Fiery Star, the southern quarter of the heavens and the
Red Bird belong to his domain. When there is danger of fire the Fiery
Star glows with a peculiar radiance. When countless numbers of
fire-crows fly into a house, a fire is sure to break out in it.
In the land of the four rivers there dwelt a man who was very rich.
One day he got into his wagon and set out on a long journey. And he
met a girl, dressed in red, who begged him to take her with him. He
allowed her to get into the wagon, and drove along for half-a-day
without even looking in her direction. Then the girl got out again and
said in farewell: "You are truly a good and honest man, and for that
reason I must tell you the truth. I am the Fire-God. To-morrow a fire
will break out in your house. Hurry home at once to arrange your
affairs and save what you can!" Frightened, the man faced his horses
about and drove home as fast as he could. All that he possessed in the
way of treasures, clothes and jewels, he removed from the house. And,
when he was about to lie down to sleep, a fire broke out on the hearth
which could not be quenched until the whole building had collapsed in
dust and ashes. Yet, thanks to the Fire-God, the man had saved all his
movable belongings.
Note: "The Fire-God" (comp. with No. 15). The Holy
Southern Mountain is Sung-Schan in Huan. The Fiery Star
is Mars. The constellations of the southern quarter of
the heavens are grouped by the Chinese as under the name
of the "Red Bird." The "land of the four rivers" is
Setchuan, in the western part of present-day China.
XXIV
THE THREE RULING GODS
There are three lords: in heaven, and on the earth and in the waters,
and they are known as the Three Ruling Gods. They are all brothers,
and are descended from the father of the Monk of the Yangtze-kiang.
When the latter was sailing on the river he was cast into the water by
a robber. But he did not drown, for a Triton came his way who took him
along with him to the dragon-castle. And when the Dragon-King saw him
he realized at once that there was something extraordinary about the
Monk, and he married him to his daughter.
From their early youth his three sons showed a preference for the
hidden wisdom. And together they went to an island in the sea. There
they seated themselves and began to meditate. They heard nothing, they
saw nothing, they spoke not a word and they did not move. The birds
came and nested in their hair; the spiders came and wove webs across
their faces; worms and insects came and crawled in and out of their
noses and ears. But they paid no attention to any of them.
After they had meditated thus for a number of years, they obtained the
hidden wisdom and became gods. And the Lord made them the Three Ruling
Gods. The heavens make things, the earth completes things, and the
waters create things. The Three Ruling Gods sent out the current of
their primal power to aid in ordering all to this end. Therefore they
are also known as the primal gods, and temples are erected to them all
over the earth.
If you go into a temple you will find the Three Ruling Gods all seated
on one pedestal. They wear women's hats upon their heads, and hold
scepters in their hands, like kings. But he who sits on the last
place, to the right, has glaring eyes and wears a look of rage. If you
ask why this is you are told: "These three were brothers and the Lord
made them the Ruling Gods. So they talked about the order in which
they were to sit. And the youngest said: 'To-morrow morning, before
sunrise, we will meet here. Whoever gets here first shall have the
seat of honor in the middle; the second one to arrive shall have the
second place, and the third the third.' The two older brothers were
satisfied. The next morning, very early, the youngest came first,
seated himself in the middle place, and became the god of the waters.
The middle brother came next, sat down on the left, and became the god
of the heavens. Last of all came the oldest brother. When he saw that
his brothers were already sitting in their places, he was disgusted
and yet he could not say a word. His face grew red with rage, his
eyeballs stood forth from their sockets like bullets, and his veins
swelled like bladders. And he seated himself on the right and became
god of the earth." The artisans who make the images of the gods
noticed this, so they always represent him thus.
Note: "The Three Ruling Gods" is set down as told by the
people. It is undoubtedly a version of the Indian
Trimurti. The meaning of the terrible appearance of the
third godhead, evidently no longer understood by the
people, points to Siva, and has given rise to the
fairy-tale here told. As regards the Monk of the
Yangtze-kiang, comp. with No. 69.
XXV
A LEGEND OF CONFUCIUS
When Confucius came to the earth, the Kilin, that strange beast which
is the prince of all four-footed animals, and only appears when there
is a great man on earth, sought the child and spat out a jade whereon
was written: "Son of the Watercrystal you are destined to become an
uncrowned king!" And Confucius grew up, studied diligently, learned
wisdom and came to be a saint. He did much good on earth, and ever
since his death has been reverenced as the greatest of teachers and
masters. He had foreknowledge of many things. And even after he had
died he gave evidence of this.
Once, when the wicked Emperor Tsin Schi Huang had conquered all the
other kingdoms, and was traveling through the entire empire, he came
to the homeland of Confucius. And he found his grave. And, finding his
grave, he wished to have it opened and see what was in it. All his
officials advised him not to do so, but he would not listen to them.
So a passage was dug into the grave, and in its main chamber they
found a coffin, whose wood appeared to be quite fresh. When struck it
sounded like metal. To the left of the coffin was a door, which led
into an inner chamber. In this chamber stood a bed, and a table with
books and clothing, all as though meant for the use of a living
person. Tsin Schi Huang seated himself on the bed and looked down. And
there on the floor stood two shoes of red silk, whose tips were
adorned with a woven pattern of clouds. A bamboo staff leaned against
the wall. The Emperor, in jest, put on the shoes, took the staff and
left the grave. But as he did so a tablet suddenly appeared before his
eyes on which stood the following lines:
O'er kingdoms six Tsin Schi Huang his army led,
To ope my grave and find my humble bed;
He steals my shoes and takes my staff away
To reach Schakiu--and his last earthly day!
Tsin Schi Huang was much alarmed, and had the grave closed again. But
when he reached Schakiu he fell ill of a hasty fever of which he died.
Note: The Kilin is an okapi-like legendary beast of the
most perfected kindness, prince of all the four-footed
animals. The "Watercrystal" is the dark Lord of the
North, whose element is water and wisdom, for which last
reason Confucius is termed his son. Tsin Schi Huang
(B.C. 200) is the burner of books and reorganizer of
China famed in history. Schakiu (Sandhill) was a city in
the western part of the China of that day.
XXVI
THE GOD OF WAR
The God of War, Guan Di, was really named Guan Yu. At the time when
the rebellion of the Yellow Turbans was raging throughout the empire,
he, together with two others whom he met by the wayside, and who were
inspired with the same love of country which possessed him, made a
pact of friendship. One of the two was Liu Be, afterward emperor, the
other was named Dschang Fe. The three met in a peach-orchard and swore
to be brothers one to the other, although they were of different
families. They sacrificed a white steed and vowed to be true to each
other to the death.
Guan Yu was faithful, honest, upright and brave beyond all measure. He
loved to read Confucius's "Annals of Lu," which tell of the rise and
fall of empires. He aided his friend Liu Be to subdue the Yellow Turbans
and to conquer the land of the four rivers. The horse he rode was known
as the Red Hare, and could run a thousand miles in a day. Guan Yu had a
knife shaped like a half-moon which was called the Green Dragon. His
eyebrows were beautiful like those of the silk-butterflies, and his eyes
were long-slitted like the eyes of the Phenix. His face was scarlet-red
in color, and his beard so long that it hung down over his stomach.
Once, when he appeared before the emperor, the latter called him Duke
Fairbeard, and presented him with a silken pocket in which to place his
beard. He wore a garment of green brocade. Whenever he went into battle
he showed invincible bravery. Whether he were opposed by a thousand
armies or by ten thousand horsemen--he attacked them as though they were
merely air.
Once the evil Tsau Tsau had incited the enemies of his master, the
Emperor, to take the city by treachery. When Guan Yu heard of it he
hastened up with an army to relieve the town. But he fell into an
ambush, and, together with his son, was brought a captive to the
capital of the enemy's land. The prince of that country would have
been glad to have had him go over to his side; but Guan Yu swore that
he would not yield to death himself. Thereupon father and son were
slain. When he was dead, his horse Red Hare ceased to eat and died. A
faithful captain of his, by name of Dschou Dsang, who was
black-visaged and wore a great knife, had just invested a fortress
when the news of the sad end of the duke reached him. And he, as well
as other faithful followers would not survive their master, and
perished.
At the time a monk, who was an old compatriot and acquaintance of Duke
Guan was living in the Hills of the Jade Fountains. He used to walk at
night in the moonlight.
Suddenly he heard a loud voice cry down out of the air: "I want my
head back again!"
The monk looked up and saw Duke Guan, sword in hand, seated on his
horse, just as he appeared while living. And at his right and left
hand, shadowy figures in the clouds, stood his son Guan Ping and his
captain, Dschou Dsang.
The monk folded his hands and said: "While you lived you were upright
and faithful, and in death you have become a wise god; and yet you do
not understand fate! If you insist on having your head back again, to
whom shall the many thousands of your enemies who lost their lives
through you appeal, in order to have life restored to them?"
When he heard this the Duke Guan bowed and disappeared. Since that
time he has been without interruption spiritually active. Whenever a
new dynasty is founded, his holy form may be seen. For this reason
temples and sacrifices have been instituted for him, and he has been
made one of the gods of the empire. Like Confucius, he received the
great sacrifice of oxen, sheep and pigs. His rank increases with the
passing of centuries. First he was worshiped as Prince Guan, later as
King Guan, and then as the great god who conquers the demons. The last
dynasty, finally, worships him as the great, divine Helper of the
Heavens. He is also called the God of War, and is a strong deliverer
in all need, when men are plagued by devils and foxes. Together with
Confucius, the Master of Peace, he is often worshiped as the Master of
War.
Note: The Chinese God of War is a historical personality
from the epoch of the three empires, which later joined
the Han dynasty, about 250 A.D. Liu Be founded the
"Little Han dynasty" in Setchuan, with the aid of Guan
Yu and Dschang Fe. Guan Yu or Guan Di, i.e., "God
Yuan," has become one of the most popular figures in
Chinese legend in the course of time, God of War and
deliverer in one and the same person. The talk of the
monk with the God Guan Di in the clouds is based on the
Buddhist law of Karma. Because Guan Di--even though his
motives might be good--had slain other men, he must
endure like treatment at their hands, even while he is a
god.
TALES OF SAINTS AND MAGICIANS
XXVII
THE HALOS OF THE SAINTS
The true gods all have halos around their heads. When the lesser gods
and demons see these halos, they hide and dare not move. The Master of
the Heavens on the Dragon-Tiger Mountain meets the gods at all times.
One day the God of War came down to the mountain while the mandarin of
the neighboring district was visiting the Master of the Heavens. The
latter advised the mandarin to withdraw and hide himself in an inner
chamber. Then he went out to receive the God of War. But the mandarin
peeped through a slit in the door, and he saw the red face and green
garment of the God of War as he stood there, terrible and
awe-inspiring. Suddenly a red halo flashed up above his head, whose
beams penetrated into the inner chamber so that the mandarin grew
blind in one eye. After a time the God of War went away again, and the
Master of the Heavens accompanied him. Suddenly Guan Di said, with
alarm: "Confucius is coming! The halo he wears illumines the whole
world. I cannot endure its radiance even a thousand miles away, so I
must hurry and get out of the way!" And with that he stepped into a
cloud and disappeared. The Master of the Heavens then told the
mandarin what had happened, and added: "Fortunately you did not see
the God of War face to face! Whoever does not possess the greatest
virtue and the greatest wisdom, would be melted by the red glow of
his halo." So saying he gave him a pill of the elixir of life to eat,
and his blind eye gradually regained its sight.
It is also said that scholars wear a red halo around their heads which
devils, foxes and ghosts fear when they see it.
There was once a scholar who had a fox for a friend. The fox came to
see him at night, and went walking with him in the villages. They
could enter the houses, and see all that was going on, without people
being any the wiser. But when at a distance the fox saw a red halo
hanging above a house he would not enter it. The scholar asked him why
not.
"Those are all celebrated scholars," answered the fox. "The greater
the halo, the more extensive is their knowledge. I dread them and do
not dare enter their houses."
Then the man said: "But I am a scholar, too! Have I no halo which
makes you fear me, instead of going walking with me?"
"There is only a black mist about your head," answered the fox. "I
have never yet seen it surrounded by a halo."
The scholar was mortified and began to scold him; but the fox
disappeared with a horse-laugh.
Note: This tale is told as traditionally handed down.
The Master of the Heavens, Tian Schi, who dwells on the
Lung Hu Schan, is the so-called Taoist pope.
XXVIII
LAOTSZE
Laotsze is really older than heaven and earth put together. He is the
Yellow Lord or Ancient, who created this world together with the other
four. At various times he has appeared on earth, under various names.
His most celebrated incarnation, however, is that of Laotsze, "The Old
Child," which name he was given because he made his appearance on
earth with white hair.
He acquired all sorts of magic powers by means of which he extended
his life-span. Once he hired a servant to do his bidding. He agreed to
give him a hundred pieces of copper daily; yet he did not pay him, and
finally he owed him seven million, two hundred thousand pieces of
copper. Then he mounted a black steer and rode to the West. He wanted
to take his servant along. But when they reached the Han-Gu pass, the
servant refused to go further, and insisted on being paid. Yet Laotsze
gave him nothing.
When they came to the house of the guardian of the pass, red clouds
appeared in the sky. The guardian understood this sign and knew that a
holy man was drawing near. So he went out to meet him and took him
into his house. He questioned him with regard to hidden knowledge, but
Laotsze only stuck out his tongue at him and would not say a word.
Nevertheless, the guardian of the pass treated him with the greatest
respect in his home. Laotsze's servant told the servant of the
guardian that his master owed him a great deal of money, and begged
the latter to put in a good word for him. When the guardian's servant
heard how large a sum it was, he was tempted to win so wealthy a man
for a son-in-law, and he married him to his daughter. Finally the
guardian heard of the matter and came to Laotsze together with the
servant. Then Laotsze said to his servant: "You rascally servant. You
really should have been dead long ago. I hired you, and since I was
poor and could give you no money, I gave you a life-giving talisman to
eat. That is how you still happen to be alive. I said to you: 'If you
will follow me into the West, the land of Blessed Repose, I will pay
you your wages in yellow gold. But you did not wish to do this.'" And
with that he patted his servant's neck. Thereupon the latter opened
his mouth, and spat out the life-giving talisman. The magic signs
written on it with cinnabar, quite fresh and well-preserved, might
still be seen. But the servant suddenly collapsed and turned into a
heap of dry bones. Then the guardian of the pass cast himself to earth
and pleaded for him. He promised to pay the servant for Laotsze and
begged the latter to restore him to life. So Laotsze placed the
talisman among the bones and at once the servant came to life again.
The guardian of the pass paid him his wages and dismissed him. Then he
adored Laotsze as his master, and the latter taught him the art of
eternal life, and left him his teachings, in five thousand words,
which the guardian wrote down. The book which thus came into being is
the Tao Teh King, "The Book of the Way and Life." Laotsze then
disappeared from the eyes of men. The guardian of the pass however,
followed his teachings, and was given a place among the immortals.
Note: The Taoists like to assert that Laotsze's journey
to the West was undertaken before the birth of Buddha,
who, according to many, is only a reincarnation of
Laotsze. The guardian of the Han-Gu pass is mentioned
by the name of Guan Yin Hi, in the Lia Dsi and the
Dschuang Dsi.
XXIX
THE ANCIENT MAN
Once upon a time there was a man named Huang An. He must have been
well over eighty and yet he looked like a youth. He lived on cinnabar
and wore no clothing. Even in winter he went about without garments.
He sat on a tortoise three feet long. Once he was asked: "About how
old might this tortoise be?" He answered: "When Fu Hi first invented
fish-nets and eel-pots he caught this tortoise and gave it to me. And
since then I have worn its shield quite flat sitting on it. The
creature dreads the radiance of the sun and moon, so it only sticks
its head out of its shell once in two thousand years. Since I have had
the beast, it has already stuck its head out five times." With these
words he took his tortoise on his back and went off. And the legend
arose that this man was ten thousand years old.
Note: Cinnabar is frequently used in the preparation of
the elixir of life (comp. No. 30). Fu Hi is "the
life-breeding breath." Tortoises live to a great age.
XXX
THE EIGHT IMMORTALS (I)
There is a legend which declares that Eight Immortals dwell in the
heavens. The first is named Dschung Li Kuan. He lived in the time of
the Han dynasty, and discovered the wonderful magic of golden
cinnabar, the philosopher's stone. He could melt quicksilver and burn
lead and turn them into yellow gold and white silver. And he could fly
through the air in his human form. He is the chief of the Eight
Immortals.
The second is named Dschang Go. In primal times he gained hidden
knowledge. It is said that he was really a white bat, who turned into
a man. In the first days of the Tang dynasty an ancient with a white
beard and a bamboo drum on his back, was seen riding backward on a
black ass in the town of Tschang An. He beat the drum and sang, and
called himself old Dschang Go. Another legend says that he always had
a white mule with him which could cover a thousand miles in a single
day. When he had reached his destination he would fold up the animal
and put it in his trunk. When he needed it again, he would sprinkle
water on it with his mouth, and the beast would regain its first
shape.
The third is named Lu Yuan or Lu Dung Bin (The Mountain Guest). His
real name was Li, and he belonged to the ruling Tang dynasty. But when
the Empress Wu seized the throne and destroyed the Li family to almost
the last man, he fled with his wife into the heart of the mountains.
They changed their names to Lu, and, since they lived in hiding in the
caverns in the rocks, he called himself the Mountain Guest or the
Guest of the Rocks. He lived on air and ate no bread. Yet he was fond
of flowers. And in the course of time he acquired the hidden wisdom.
In Lo Yang, the capital city, the peonies bloomed with special
luxuriance. And there dwelt a flower fairy, who changed herself into a
lovely maiden with whom Guest of the Rocks, when he came to Lo Yang,
was wont to converse. Suddenly along came the Yellow Dragon, who had
taken the form of a handsome youth. He mocked the flower fairy. Guest
of the Rocks grew furious and cast his flying sword at him, cutting
off his head. From that time onward he fell back again into the world
of mundane pleasure and death. He sank down into the dust of the
diurnal, and was no longer able to wing his way to the upper regions.
Later he met Dschung Li Kuan, who delivered him, and then he was taken
up in the ranks of the Immortals.
Willowelf was his disciple. This was an old willow-tree which had
drawn into itself the most ethereal powers of the sunrays and the
moonbeams, and had thus been able to assume the shape of a human
being. His face is blue and he has red hair. Guest of the Rocks
received him as a disciple. Emperors and kings of future times honor
Guest of the Rocks as the ancestor and master of the pure sun. The
people call him Grandfather Lu. He is very wise and powerful. And
therefore the people still stream into Grandfather Lu's temples to
obtain oracles and pray for good luck. If you want to know whether you
will be successful or not in an undertaking, go to the temple, light
incense and bow your head to earth. On the altar is a bamboo goblet,
in which are some dozens of little lottery sticks. You must shake them
while kneeling, until one of the sticks flies out. On the
lottery-stick is inscribed a number. This number must then be looked
up in the Book of Oracles, where it is accompanied by a four-line
stanza. It is said that fortune and misfortune, strange to think,
occur to one just as foretold by the oracle.
The fourth Immortal is Tsau Guo Gui (Tsau the Uncle of the State). He
was the younger brother of the Empress Tsau, who for a time ruled the
land. For this reason he was called the Uncle of the State. From his
earliest youth he had been a lover of the hidden wisdom. Riches and
honors were no more to him than dust. It was Dschung Li Kuan who aided
him to become immortal.
The fifth is called Lan Tsai Ho. Nothing is known of his true name,
his time nor his family. He was often seen in the market-place, clad
in a torn blue robe and wearing only a single shoe, beating a block of
wood and singing the nothingness of life.
The sixth Immortal is known as Li Tia Guai (Li with the iron crutch).
He lost his parents in early youth and was brought up in his older
brother's home. His sister-in-law treated him badly and never gave him
enough to eat. Because of this he fled into the hills, and there
learned the hidden wisdom.
Once he returned in order to see his brother, and said to his
sister-in-law: "Give me something to eat!" She answered: "There is no
kindling wood on hand!" He replied: "You need only to prepare the
rice. I can use my leg for kindling wood, only you must not say that
the fire might injure me, and if you do not no harm will be done."
His sister-in-law wished to see his art, so she poured the rice into
the pot. Li stretched one of his legs out under it and lit it. The
flames leaped high and the leg burned like coal.
When the rice was nearly boiled his sister-in-law said: "Won't your
leg be injured?"
And Li replied angrily: "Did I not warn you not to say anything! Then
no harm would have been done. Now one of my legs is lamed." With these
words he took an iron poker and fashioned it into a crutch for
himself. Then he hung a bottle-gourd on his back, and went into the
hills to gather medicinal herbs. And that is why he is known as Li
with the Iron Crutch.
It is also told of him that he often was in the habit of ascending
into the heavens in the spirit to visit his master Laotsze. Before he
left he would order a disciple to watch his body and soul within it,
so that the latter did not escape. Should seven days have gone by
without his spirit returning, then he would allow his soul to leave
the empty tenement. Unfortunately, after six days had passed, the
disciple was called to the death-bed of his mother, and when the
master's spirit returned on the evening of the seventh day, the life
had gone out of its body. Since there was no place for his spirit in
his own body, in his despair he seized upon the first handy body from
which the vital essence had not yet dispersed. It was the body of a
neighbor, a lame cripple, who had just died, so that from that time on
the master appeared in his form.
The seventh Immortal is called Hang Siang Dsi. He was the nephew of
the famous Confucian scholar Han Yu, of the Tang dynasty. From his
earliest youth he cultivated the arts of the deathless gods, left his
home and became a Taoist. Grandfather Lu awakened him and raised him
to the heavenly world. Once he saved his uncle's life. The latter had
been driven from court, because he had objected when the emperor sent
for a bone of Buddha with great pomp. When he reached the Blue Pass in
his flight, a deep snowfall had made the road impassable. His horse
had floundered in a snow-drift, and he himself was well-nigh frozen.
Then Hang Siang Dsi suddenly appeared, helped him and his horse out of
the drift, and brought them safely to the nearest inn along the Blue
Pass. Han Yu sang a verse, in which the lines occurred:
Tsin Ling Hill 'mid clouds doth lie,
And home is far, beyond my sight!
Round the Blue Pass snow towers high,
And who will lead the horse aright?
Suddenly it occurred to him that several years before, Hang Siang Dsi
had come to his house to congratulate him on his birthday. Before he
had left, he had written these words on a slip of paper, and his uncle
had read them, without grasping their meaning. And now he was
unconsciously singing the very lines of that song that his nephew had
written. So he said to Hang Siang Dsi, with a sigh: "You must be one
of the Immortals, since you were able thus to foretell the future!"
And thrice Hang Siang Dsi sought to deliver his wife from the bonds of
earth. For when he left his home to seek the hidden wisdom, she sat
all day long yearning for his presence. Hang Siang Dsi wished to
release her into immortality, but he feared she was not capable of
translation. So he appeared to her in various forms, in order to try
her, once as a beggar, another time as a wandering monk. But his wife
did not grasp her opportunities. At last he took the shape of a lame
Taoist, who sat on a mat, beat a block of wood and read sutras before
the house.
His wife said: "My husband is not at home. I can give you nothing."
The Taoist answered: "I do not want your gold and silver, I want you.
Sit down beside me on the mat, and we will fly up into the air and you
shall find your husband again!"
Hereupon the woman grew angry and struck at him with a cudgel.
Then Hang Siang Dsi changed himself into his true form, stepped on a
shining cloud and was carried aloft. His wife looked after him and
wept loudly; but he had disappeared and was not seen again.
The eighth Immortal is a girl and was called Ho Sian Gu. She was a
peasant's daughter, and though her step-mother treated her harshly she
remained respectful and industrious. She loved to give alms, though
her step-mother tried to prevent her. Yet she was never angry, even
when her step-mother beat her. She had sworn not to marry, and at last
her step-mother did not know what to do with her. One day, while she
was cooking rice, Grandfather Du came and delivered her. She was still
holding the rice-spoon in her hand as she ascended into the air. In
the heavens she was appointed to sweep up the fallen flowers at the
Southern Gate of Heaven.
Note: The legends of the Eight Immortals, regarded as
one group, do not go back further than the Manchu
dynasty, though individual ones among them were known
before. Some of the Immortals, like Han Siang Dsi, are
historic personages, others purely mythical. In the
present day they play an important part in art and in
the art-crafts. Their emblems also occur frequently:
Dschung Li Kuan is represented with a fan. Dschang Go
has a bamboo drum with two drum-sticks (and his donkey).
Lu Dung Bin has a sword and a flower-basket on his
back. Tsau Guo Gui has two small boards, (Yin Yang Ban),
which he can throw into the air. Li Tia Guai has the
bottle-gourd, out of which emerges a bat, the emblem of
good fortune. Lan Tsai Ho, who is also pictured as a woman,
has a flute. Han Siang Dsi has a flower-basket and a
dibble. Ho Sian Gu has a spoon, usually formed in the
shape of a lotus-flower.
XXXI
THE EIGHT IMMORTALS (II)
Once upon a time there was a poor man, who at last had no roof to
shelter him and not a bite to eat. So, weary and worn, he lay down
beside a little temple of the field-god that stood by the roadside and
fell asleep. And he dreamed that the old, white-bearded field-god came
out of his little shrine and said to him: "I know of a means to help
you! To-morrow the Eight Immortals will pass along this road. Cast
yourself down before them and plead to them!"
When the man awoke he seated himself beneath the great tree beside the
field-god's little temple, and waited all day long for his dream to
come true. At last, when the sun had nearly sunk, eight figures came
down the road, which the beggar clearly recognized as those of the
Eight Immortals. Seven of them were hurrying as fast as they could,
but one among them, who had a lame leg, limped along after the rest.
Before him--it was Li Tia Guai--the man cast himself to earth. But the
lame Immortal did not want to bother with him, and told him to go
away. Yet the poor man would not give over pleading with him, begging
that he might go with them and be one of the Immortals, too. That
would be impossible, said the cripple. Yet, as the poor man did not
cease his prayers and would not leave him, he at last said: "Very
well, then, take hold of my coat!" This the man did and off they went
in flying haste over paths and fields, on and on, and even further on.
Suddenly they stood together high up on the tower of Pong-lai-schan,
the ghost mountain by the Eastern Sea. And, lo, there stood the rest
of the Immortals as well! But they were very discontented with the
companion whom Li Tia Guai had brought along. Yet since the poor man
pleaded so earnestly, they too allowed themselves to be moved, and
said to him: "Very well! We will now leap down into the sea. If you
follow us you may also become an Immortal!" And one after another the
seven leaped down into the sea. But when it came to the man's turn he
was frightened, and would not dare the leap. Then the cripple said to
him: "If you are afraid, then you cannot become an Immortal!"
"But what shall I do now?" wailed the man, "I am far from my home and
have no money!" The cripple broke off a fragment of the battlement of
the tower, and thrust it into the man's hand; then he also leaped from
the tower and disappeared into the sea like his seven companions.
When the man examined the stone in his hand more closely, he saw that
it was the purest silver. It provided him with traveling money during
the many weeks it took him to reach his home. But by that time the
silver was completely used up, and he found himself just as poor as he
had been before.
Note: Little field-god temples, Tu Di Miau, are
miniature stone chapels which stand before every
village. As regards the field-god, see No. 51.
XXXII
THE TWO SCHOLARS
Once upon a time there were two scholars. One was named Liu Tschen and
the other Yuan Dschau. Both were young and handsome. One spring day
they went together into the hills of Tian Tai to gather curative
herbs. There they came to a little valley where peach-trees blossomed
luxuriantly on either side. In the middle of the valley was a cave,
where two maidens stood under the blossoming trees, one of them clad
in red garments, the other in green. And they were beautiful beyond
all telling. They beckoned to the scholars with their hands.
"And have you come?" they asked. "We have been waiting for you
overlong!"
Then they led them into the cave and served them with tea and wine.
"I have been destined for the lord Liu," said the maiden in the red
gown; "and my sister is for the lord Yuan!"
And so they were married. Every day the two scholars gazed at the
flowers or played chess so that they forgot the mundane world
completely. They only noticed that at times the peach-blossoms on the
trees before the cave opened, and at others that they fell from the
boughs. And, at times, unexpectedly, they felt cold or warm, and had
to change the clothing they were wearing. And they marveled within
themselves that it should be so.
Then, one day, they were suddenly overcome by homesickness. Both
maidens were already aware of it.
"When our lords have once been seized with homesickness, then we may
hold them no longer," said they.
On the following day they prepared a farewell banquet, gave the
scholars magic wine to take along with them and said:
"We will see one another again. Now go your way!"
And the scholars bade them farewell with tears.
When they reached home the gates and doors had long since vanished,
and the people of the village were all strangers to them. They crowded
about the scholars and asked who they might be.
"We are Liu Tschen and Yuan Dschau. Only a few days ago we went into
the hills to pick herbs!"
With that a servant came hastening up and looked at them. At last he
fell at Liu Tschen's feet with great joy and cried: "Yes, you are
really my master! Since you went away, and we had no news of any kind
regarding you some seventy years or more have passed."
Thereupon he drew the scholar Liu through a high gateway, ornamented
with bosses and a ring in a lion's mouth, as is the custom in the
dwellings of those of high estate.
And when he entered the hall, an old lady with white hair and bent
back, leaning on a cane, came forward and asked: "What man is this?"
"Our master has returned again," replied the servant. And then,
turning to Liu he added: "That is the mistress. She is nearly a
hundred years old, but fortunately is still strong and in good
health."
Tears of joy and sadness filled the old lady's eyes.
"Since you went away among the immortals, I had thought that we should
never see each other again in this life," said she. "What great good
fortune that you should have returned after all!"
And before she had ended the whole family, men and women, came
streaming up and welcomed him in a great throng outside the hall.
And his wife pointed out this one and that and said: "That is so and
so, and this is so and so!"
At the time the scholar had disappeared there had been only a tiny boy
in his home, but a few years old. And he was now an old man of eighty.
He had served the empire in a high office, and had already retired to
enjoy his old age in the ancestral gardens. There were three
grand-children, all celebrated ministers; there were more than ten
great-grand-children, of whom five had already passed their examinations
for the doctorate; there were some twenty great-great-grand-children, of
whom the oldest had just returned home after having passed his induction
examinations for the magistracy with honor. And the little ones, who
were carried in their parents' arms, were not to be counted. The
grand-children, who were away, busy with their duties, all asked for
leave and returned home when they heard that their ancestor had
returned. And the girl grand-children, who had married into other
families, also came. This filled Liu with joy, and he had a family
banquet prepared in the hall, and all his descendants, with their wives
and husbands sat about him in a circle. He himself and his wife, a
white-haired, wrinkled old lady, sat in their midst at the upper end.
The scholar himself still looked like a youth of twenty years, so that
all the young people in the circle looked around and laughed.
Then the scholar said: "I have a means of driving away old age!"
And he drew out his magic wine and gave his wife some of it to drink.
And when she had taken three glasses, her white hair gradually turned
black again, her wrinkles disappeared, and she sat beside her husband,
a handsome young woman. Then his son and the older grand-children
came up and all asked for a drink of the wine. And whichever of them
drank only so much as a drop of it was turned from an old man into a
youth. The tale was bruited abroad and came to the emperor's ears. The
emperor wanted to call Liu to his court, but he declined with many
thanks. Yet he sent the emperor some of his magic wine as a gift. This
pleased the emperor greatly, and he gave Liu a tablet of honor, with
the inscription:
"The Common Home of Five Generations"
Besides this he sent him three signs which he had written with his own
imperial brush signifying:
"Joy in longevity"
As to the other of the two scholars, Yuan Dschau, he was not so
fortunate. When he came home he found that his wife and child had long
since died, and his grand-children and great-grand-children were
mostly useless people. So he did not remain long, but returned to the
hills. Yet Liu Tschen remained for some years with his family, then
taking his wife with him, went again to the Tai Hills and was seen no
more.
Note: This tale is placed in the reign of the Emperor
Ming Di (A.D. 58-75). Its motive is that of the legend
of the Seven Sleepers, and is often found in Chinese
fairy tales.
XXXIII
THE MISERLY FARMER
Once upon a time there was a farmer who had carted pears to market.
Since they were very sweet and fragrant, he hoped to get a good price
for them. A bonze with a torn cap and tattered robe stepped up to his
cart and asked for one. The farmer repulsed him, but the bonze did not
go. Then the farmer grew angry and began to call him names. The bonze
said: "You have pears by the hundred in your cart. I only ask for one.
Surely that does you no great injury. Why suddenly grow so angry about
it?"
The bystanders told the farmer that he ought to give the bonze one of
the smaller pears and let him go. But the farmer would not and did
not. An artisan saw the whole affair from his shop, and since the
noise annoyed him, he took some money, bought a pear and gave it to
the bonze.
The bonze thanked him and said: "One like myself, who has given up the
world, must not be miserly. I have beautiful pears myself, and I
invite you all to eat them with me." Then some one asked: "If you have
pears then why do you not eat your own?" He answered: "I first must
have a seed to plant."
And with that he began to eat the pear with gusto. When he had
finished, he held the pit in his hand, took his pick-ax from his
shoulder; and dug a hole a couple of inches deep. Into this he thrust
the pit, and covered it with earth. Then he asked the folk in the
market place for water, with which to water it. A pair of curiosity
seekers brought him hot water from the hostelry in the street, and
with it the bonze watered the pit. Thousands of eyes were turned on
the spot. And the pit could already be seen to sprout. The sprout grew
and in a moment it had turned into a tree. Branches and leaves
burgeoned out from it. It began to blossom and soon the fruit had
ripened: large, fragrant pears, which hung in thick clusters from the
boughs. The bonze climbed into the tree and handed down the pears to
the bystanders. In a moment all the pears had been eaten up. Then the
bonze took his pick-ax and cut down the tree. Crash, crash! so it went
for a while, and the tree was felled. Then he took the tree on his
shoulder and walked away at an easy gait.
When the bonze had begun to make his magic, the farmer, too, had
mingled with the crowd. With neck outstretched and staring eyes he had
stood there and had entirely forgotten the business he hoped to do
with his pears. When the bonze had gone off he turned around to look
after his cart. His pears had all disappeared. Then he realized that
the pears the bonze had divided had been his own. He looked more
closely, and the axle of his cart had disappeared. It was plainly
evident that it had been chopped off quite recently. The farmer fell
into a rage and hastened after the bonze as fast as ever he could. And
when he turned the corner, there lay the missing piece from the axle
by the city wall. And then he realized that the pear-tree which the
bonze had chopped down must have been his axle. The bonze, however,
was nowhere to be found. And the whole crowd in the market burst out
into loud laughter.
Note: The axle in China is really a handle, for the
little Chinese carts are one-wheel push-carts with two
handles or shafts.
XXXIV
SKY O'DAWN
Once upon a time there was a man who took a child to a woman in a
certain village, and told her to take care of him. Then he
disappeared. And because the dawn was just breaking in the sky when
the woman took the child into her home, she called him Sky O'Dawn.
When the child was three years old, he would often look up to the
heavens and talk with the stars. One day he ran away and many months
passed before he came home again. The woman gave him a whipping. But
he ran away again, and did not return for a year. His foster-mother
was frightened, and asked: "Where have you been all year long?" The
boy answered: "I only made a quick trip to the Purple Sea. There the
water stained my clothes red. So I went to the spring at which the sun
turns in, and washed them. I went away in the morning and I came back
at noon. Why do you speak about my having been gone a year?"
Then the woman asked: "And where did you pass on your way?"
The boy answered: "When I had washed my clothes, I rested for a while
in the City of the Dead and fell asleep. And the King-Father of the
East gave me red chestnuts and rosy dawn-juice to eat, and my hunger
was stilled. Then I went to the dark skies and drank the yellow dew,
and my thirst was quenched. And I met a black tiger and wanted to ride
home on his back. But I whipped him too hard, and he bit me in the
leg. And so I came back to tell you about it."
[Illustration: "'AND I CROSSED THE WATER ON THE SHOE.'"
--_Page 91_]
Once more the boy ran away from home, thousands of miles, until he
came to the swamp where dwelt the Primal Mist. There he met an old man
with yellow eyebrows and asked him how old he might be. The old man
said: "I have given up the habit of eating, and live on air. The
pupils of my eyes have gradually acquired a green glow, which enables
me to see all hidden things. Whenever a thousand years have passed I
turn around my bones and wash the marrow. And every two thousand years
I scrape my skin to get rid of the hair. I have already washed my
bones thrice and scraped my skin five times."
Afterward Sky O'Dawn served the Emperor Wu of the Han dynasty. The
Emperor, who was fond of the magic arts, was much attached to him. One
day he said to him: "I wish that the empress might not grow old. Can
you prevent it?"
Sky O'Dawn answered: "I know of only one means to keep from growing
old."
The Emperor asked what herbs one had to eat. Sky O'Dawn replied: "In
the North-East grow the mushrooms of life. There is a three-legged
crow in the sun who always wants to get down and eat them. But the
Sun-God holds his eyes shut and does not let him get away. If human
beings eat them they become immortal, when animals eat them they grow
stupefied."
"And how do you know this?" asked the Emperor.
"When I was a boy I once fell into a deep well, from which I could not
get out for many decades. And down there was an immortal who led me to
this herb. But one has to pass through a red river whose water is so
light that not even a feather can swim on it. Everything that touches
its surface sinks to the depths. But the man pulled off one of his
shoes and gave it to me. And I crossed the water on the shoe, picked
the herb and ate it. Those who dwell in that place weave mats of
pearls and precious stones. They led me to a spot before which hung a
curtain of delicate, colored skin. And they gave me a pillow carved of
black jade, on which were graven sun and moon, clouds and thunder.
They covered me with a dainty coverlet spun of the hair of a hundred
gnats. A cover of that kind is very cool and refreshing in summer. I
felt of it with my hands, and it seemed to be formed of water; but
when I looked at it more closely, it was pure light."
Once the Emperor called together all his magicians in order to talk
with them about the fields of the blessed spirits. Sky O'Dawn was
there, too, and said: "Once I was wandering about the North Pole and I
came to the Fire-Mirror Mountain. There neither sun nor moon shines.
But there is a dragon who holds a fiery mirror in his jaws in order to
light up the darkness. On the mountain is a park, and in the park is a
lake. By the lake grows the glimmer-stalk grass, which shines like a
lamp of gold. If you pluck it and use it for a candle, you can see all
things visible, and the shapes of the spirits as well. It even
illuminates the interior of a human being."
Once Sky O'Dawn went to the East, into the country of the fortunate
clouds. And he brought back with him from that land a steed of the
gods, nine feet high. The Emperor asked him how he had come to find
it.
So he told him: "The Queen-Mother of the West had him harnessed to her
wagon when she went to visit the King-Father of the East. The steed
was staked out in the field of the mushrooms of life. But he trampled
down several hundred of them. This made the King-Father angry, and he
drove the steed away to the heavenly river. There I found him and rode
him home. I rode three times around the sun, because I had fallen
asleep on the steed's back. And then, before I knew it, I was here.
This steed can catch up with the sun's shadow. When I found him he was
quite thin and as sad as an aged donkey. So I mowed the grass of the
country of the fortunate clouds, which grows once every two-thousand
years on the Mountain of the Nine Springs and fed it to the horse; and
that made him lively again."
The Emperor asked what sort of a place the country of the fortunate
clouds might be. Sky O'Dawn answered: "There is a great swamp there.
The people prophesy fortune and misfortune by the air and the clouds.
If good fortune is to befall a house, clouds of five colors form in
the rooms, which alight on the grass and trees and turn into a colored
dew. This dew tastes as sweet as cider."
The Emperor asked whether he could obtain any of this dew. Sky O'Dawn
replied: "My steed could take me to the place where it falls four
times in the course of a single day!"
And sure enough he came back by evening, and brought along dew of
every color in a crystal flask. The Emperor drank it and his hair grew
black again. He gave it to his highest officials to drink, and the old
grew young again and the sick became well.
Once, when a comet appeared in the heavens, Sky O'Dawn gave the
Emperor the astrologer's wand. The Emperor pointed it at the comet and
the comet was quenched.
Sky O'Dawn was an excellent whistler. And whenever he whistled in full
tones, long drawn out, the motes in the sunbeams danced to his music.
Once he said to a friend: "There is not a soul on earth who knows who
I am with the exception of the astrologer!"
When Sky O'Dawn had died, the Emperor called the astrologer to him
and asked: "Did you know Sky O'Dawn?"
He replied: "No!"
The Emperor said: "What do you know?"
The astrologer answered: "I know how to gaze on the stars."
"Are all the stars in their places?" asked the Emperor.
"Yes, but for eighteen years I have not seen the Star of the Great
Year. Now it is visible once more."
Then the Emperor looked up towards the skies and sighed: "For eighteen
years Sky O'Dawn kept me company, and I did not know that he was the
Star of the Great Year!"
Note: The mother of Sky O'Dawn, (Dung Fang So) who makes
so mysterious an appearance on earth, according to one
tradition, is the third daughter of the Lord of the
Heavens. (Comp. Note to No. 16). Dung Fang So is an
incarnation of the Wood Star or Star of the Great Year
(Jupiter). The King-Father of the East, one of the Five
Ancients, is the representative of wood (comp. No. 15).
Red chestnuts, like fire-dates, are fruits of the gods,
and bestow immortality. Sky O'Dawn was an excellent
whistler. Whistling is a famous means of magic among the
Taoists. The Emperor Wu of the Han dynasty, was a prince
who is reputed to have devoted much attention to the
magic arts. He reigned from 140 to 86 B.C. The
three-legged crow in the sun is the counterpart of the
three-legged ram-toad in the moon. The Red River recalls
the Weak River by the Castle of the Queen-Mother of the
West.
XXXV
KING MU OF DSCHOU
In the days of King Mu of Dschou a magician came out of the uttermost
West, who could walk through water and fire, and pass through metal
and stone. He could make mountains and rivers change place, shift
about cities and castles, rise into emptiness without falling, strike
against solid matter without finding it an obstruction; and he knew a
thousand transformations in all their inexhaustible variety. And he
could not only change the shape of things but he could change men's
thoughts. The King honored him like a god, and served him as he would
a master. He resigned his own apartments that the magician might be
lodged in them, had beasts of sacrifice brought to offer him, and
selected sweet singers to give him pleasure. But the rooms in the
King's palace were too humble--the magician could not dwell in them;
and the King's singers were not musical enough to be allowed to be
near him. So King Mu had a new palace built for him. The work of
bricklayers and carpenters, of painters and stainers left nothing to
be desired with regard to skill. The King's treasury was empty when
the tower had reached its full height. It was a thousand fathoms high,
and rose above the top of the mountain before the capital. The King
selected maidens, the loveliest and most dainty, gave them fragrant
essences, had their eyebrows curved in lines of beauty, and adorned
their hair and ears with jewels. He garbed them in fine cloth, and
with white silks fluttering about them, and had their faces painted
white and their eyebrows stained black. He had them put on armlets of
precious stones and mix sweet-smelling herbs. They filled the palace
and sang the songs of the ancient kings in order to please the
magician. Every month the most costly garments were brought him, and
every morning the most delicate food. The magician allowed them to do
so, and since he had no choice, made the best of it.
Not long afterward the magician invited the King to go traveling with
him. The King grasped the magician's sleeve, and thus they flew up
through the air to the middle of the skies. When they stopped they
found they had reached the palace of the magician. It was built of
gold and silver, and adorned with pearls and precious stones. It
towered high over the clouds and rain; and none could say whereon it
rested. To the eye it had the appearance of heaped-up clouds. All that
it offered the senses was different from the things of the world of
men. It seemed to the King as though he were bodily present in the
midst of the purple depths of the city of the air, of the divine
harmony of the spheres, where the Great God dwells. The King looked
down, and his castles and pleasure-houses appeared to him like hills
of earth and heaps of straw. And there the King remained for some
decades and thought no more of his kingdom.
Then the magician again invited the King to go traveling with him once
more. And in the place to which they came there was to be seen neither
sun nor moon above, nor rivers or sea below. The King's dazzled eyes
could not see the radiant shapes which showed themselves; the King's
dulled ears could not hear the sounds which played about them. It
seemed as though his body were dissolving in confusion; his thoughts
began to stray, and consciousness threatened to leave him. So he
begged the magician to return. The magician put his spell upon him,
and it seemed to the King as though he were falling into empty space.
When he regained consciousness, he was sitting at the same place where
he had been sitting when the magician had asked him to travel with him
for the first time. The servants waiting on him were the same, and
when he looked down, his goblet was not yet empty, and his food had
not yet grown cold.
The King asked what had happened. And the servants answered, "The King
sat for a space in silence." Whereupon the King was quite bereft of
reason, and it was three months before he regained his right mind.
Then he questioned the magician. The magician said: "I was traveling
with you in the spirit, O King! What need was there for the body to go
along? And the place in which we stayed at that time was no less real
than your own castle and your own gardens. But you are used only to
permanent conditions, therefore visions which dissolve so suddenly
appear strange to you."
The King was content with the explanation. He gave no further thought
to the business of government and took no more interest in his
servants, but resolved to travel afar. So he had the eight famous
steeds harnessed, and accompanied by a few faithful retainers, drove a
thousand miles away. There he came to the country of the great
hunters. The great hunters brought the King the blood of the white
brant to drink, and washed his feet in the milk of mares and cows.
When the King and his followers had quenched their thirst, they drove
on and camped for the night on the slope of the Kunlun Mountain, south
of the Red River. The next day they climbed to the peak of Kunlun
Mountain and gazed at the castle of the Lord of the Yellow Earth.
Then they traveled on to the Queen-Mother of the West. Before they got
there they had to pass the Weak River. This is a river whose waters
will bear neither floats nor ships. All that attempts to float over it
sinks into its depths. When the King reached the shore, fish and
turtles, crabs and salamanders came swimming up and formed a bridge,
so that he could drive across with the wagon.
It is said of the Queen-Mother of the West that she goes about with
hair unkempt, with a bird's beak and tiger's teeth, and that she is
skilled in playing the flute. Yet this is not her true figure, but
that of a spirit who serves her, and rules over the Western sky. The
Queen-Mother entertained King Mu in her castle by the Springs of Jade.
And she gave him rock-marrow to drink and fed him with the fruit of
the jade-trees. Then she sang him a song and taught him a magic
formula by means of which one could obtain long life. The Queen-Mother
of the West gathers the immortals around her, and gives them to eat of
the peaches of long life; and then they come to her with wagons with
purple canopies, drawn by flying dragons. Ordinary mortals sink in the
Weak River when they try to cross. But she was kindly disposed to King
Mu.
When he took leave of her, he also went on to the spot where the sun
turns in after running three thousand miles a day. Then he returned
again to his kingdom.
When King Mu was a hundred years old, the Queen-Mother of the West
drew near his palace and led him away with her into the clouds.
And from that day on he was seen no more.
Note: King Mu of Dschou reigned from 1001 to 946 B.C.
With his name are associated the stories of the
marvelous travels into the land of the far West, and
especially to the Queen-Mother (who is identified by
some with Juno). The peaches of immortality suggest the
apples of the Hesperides. (Comp. with the story of "The
Ape Sun Wu Kung.")
XXXVI
THE KING OF HUAI NAN
The King of Huai Nan was a learned man of the Han dynasty. Since he
was of the blood royal the emperor had given him a kingdom in fee. He
cultivated the society of scholars, could interpret signs and foretell
the future. Together with his scholars he had compiled the book which
bears his name.
One day eight aged men came to see him. They all had white beards and
white hair. The gate-keeper announced them to the King. The King
wished to try them, so he sent back the gate-keeper to put
difficulties in the way of their entrance. The latter said to them:
"Our King is striving to learn the art of immortal life. You gentlemen
are old and feeble. How can you be of aid to him? It is unnecessary
for you to pay him a visit."
The eight old men smiled and said: "Oh, and are we too old to suit
you? Well, then we will make ourselves young!" And before they had
finished speaking they had turned themselves into boys of fourteen and
fifteen, with hair-knots as black as silk and faces like
peach-blossoms. The gate-keeper was frightened, and at once informed
the King of what had happened. When the King heard it, he did not even
take time to slip into his shoes, but hurried out barefoot to receive
them. He led them into his palace, had rugs of brocade spread for
them, and beds of ivory set up, fragrant herbs burned and tables of
gold and precious stones set in front of them. Then he bowed before
them as pupils do before a teacher, and told them how glad he was that
they had come.
The eight boys changed into old men again and said: "Do you wish to go
to school to us, O King? Each one of us is master of a particular art.
One of us can call up wind and rain, cause clouds and mists to gather,
rivers to flow and mountains to heave themselves up, if he wills it
so. The second can cause high mountains to split asunder and check
great streams in their course. He can tame tigers and panthers and
soothe serpents and dragons. Spirits and gods do his bidding. The
third can send out doubles, transform himself into other shapes, make
himself invisible, cause whole armies to disappear, and turn day into
night. The fourth can walk through the air and clouds, can stroll on
the surface of the waves, pass through walls and rocks and cover a
thousand miles in a single breath. The fifth can enter fire without
burning, and water without drowning. The winter frost cannot chill
him, nor the summer heat burn him. The sixth can create and transform
living creatures if he feel inclined. He can form birds and beasts,
grasses and trees. He can transplace houses and castles. The seventh
can bake lime so that it turns to gold, and cook lead so that it turns
to silver; he can mingle water and stone so that the bubbles
effervesce and turn into pearls. The eighth can ride on dragons and
cranes to the eight poles of the world, converse with the immortals,
and stand in the presence of the Great Pure One."
The King kept them beside him from morning to night, entertained them
and had them show him what they could do. And, true enough, they could
do everything just as they had said. And now the King began to distil
the elixir of life with their aid. He had finished, but not yet
imbibed it when a misfortune overtook his family. His son had been
playing with a courtier and the latter had heedlessly wounded him.
Fearing that the prince might punish him, he joined other discontented
persons and excited a revolt. And the emperor, when he heard of it,
sent one of his captains to judge between the King and the rebels.
The eight aged men spoke: "It is now time to go. This misfortune has
been sent you from heaven, O King! Had it not befallen you, you would
not have been able to resolve to leave the splendors and glories of
this world!"
They led him on to a mountain. There they offered sacrifices to
heaven, and buried gold in the earth. Then they ascended into the
skies in bright daylight. The footprints of the eight aged men and of
the king were imprinted in the rock of the mountain, and may be seen
there to this very day. Before they had left the castle, however, they
had set what was left of the elixir of life out in the courtyard. Hens
and hounds picked and licked it up, and all flew up into the skies. In
Huai Nan to this very day the crowing of cocks and the barking of
hounds may be heard up in the skies, and it is said that these are the
creatures who followed the King at the time.
One of the King's servants, however, followed him to an island in the
sea, whence he sent him back. He told that the King himself had not
yet ascended to the skies, but had only become immortal and was
wandering about the world. When the emperor heard of the matter he
regretted greatly that he had sent soldiers into the King's land and
thus driven him out. He called in magicians to aid him, in hope of
meeting the eight old men himself. Yet, for all that he spent great
sums, he was not successful. The magicians only cheated him.
Note: The King of Huai Nan was named Liu An. He belonged
to the Han dynasty. He dabbled largely in magic, and
drew to his court many magicians whose labors are
collected in the philosophical work which bears his
name. Liu An lived at the time of the Emperor Wu (see
No. 34). The latter having no heirs, Liu An entered into
a conspiracy which, however, was discovered. As a
consequence he killed himself, 122 B.C. Our fairy-tale
presents these events in their legendary transformation.
XXXVII
OLD DSCHANG
Once upon a time there was a man who went by the name of Old Dschang.
He lived in the country, near Yangdschou, as a gardener. His neighbor,
named Sir We, held an official position in Yangdschou. Sir We had
decided that it was time for his daughter to marry, so he sent for a
match-maker and commissioned her to find a suitable husband. Old
Dschang heard this, and was pleased. He prepared food and drink,
entertained the match-maker, and told her to recommend him as a
husband. But the old match-maker went off scolding.
The next day he invited her to dinner again and gave her money. Then
the old match-maker said: "You do not know what you wish! Why should a
gentleman's beautiful daughter condescend to marry a poor old gardener
like yourself? Even though you had money to burn, your white hair
would not match her black locks. Such a marriage is out of the
question!"
But Old Dschang did not cease to entreat her: "Make an attempt, just
one attempt, to mention me! If they will not listen to you, then I
must resign myself to my fate!"
The old match-maker had taken his money, so she could not well refuse,
and though she feared being scolded, she mentioned him to Sir We. He
grew angry and wanted to throw her out of the house.
"I knew you would not thank me," said she, "but the old man urged it
so that I could not refuse to mention his intention."
"Tell the old man that if this very day he brings me two white
jade-stones, and four hundred ounces of yellow gold, then I will give
him my daughter's hand in marriage."
But he only wished to mock the old man's folly, for he knew that the
latter could not give him anything of the kind. The match-maker went
to Old Dschang and delivered the message. And he made no objection;
but at once brought the exact quantity of gold and jewels to Sir We's
house. The latter was very much frightened and when his wife heard of
it, she began to weep and wail loudly. But the girl encouraged her
mother: "My father has given his word now and cannot break it. I will
know how to bear my fate."
So Sir We's daughter was married to Old Dschang. But even after the
wedding the latter did not give up his work as a gardener. He spaded
the field and sold vegetables as usual, and his wife had to fetch
water and build the kitchen fire herself. But she did her work without
false shame and, though her relatives reproached her, she continued to
do so.
Once an aristocratic relative visited Sir We and said: "If you had
really been poor, were there not enough young gentlemen in the
neighborhood for your daughter? Why did you have to marry her to such
a wrinkled old gardener? Now that you have thrown her away, so to
speak, it would be better if both of them left this part of the
country."
Then Sir We prepared a banquet and invited his daughter and Old
Dschang to visit him. When they had had sufficient to eat and drink he
allowed them to get an inkling of what was in his mind.
Said Old Dschang: "I have only remained here because I thought you
would long for your daughter. But since you are tired of us, I will be
glad to go. I have a little country house back in the hills, and we
will set out for it early to-morrow morning."
The following morning, at break of dawn, Old Dschang came with his
wife to say farewell. Sir We said: "Should we long to see you at some
later time, my son can make inquiries." Old Dschang placed his wife on
a donkey and gave her a straw hat to wear. He himself took his staff
and walked after.
A few years passed without any news from either of them. Then Sir We
and his wife felt quite a longing to see their daughter and sent their
son to make inquiries. When the latter got back in the hills he met a
plow-boy who was plowing with two yellow steers. He asked him: "Where
is Old Dschang's country house?" The plow-boy left the plow in the
harrow, bowed and answered: "You have been a long time coming, sir!
The village is not far from here: I will show you the way."
They crossed a hill. At the foot of the hill flowed a brook, and when
they had crossed the brook they had to climb another hill. Gradually
the landscape changed. From the top of the hill could be seen a
valley, level in the middle, surrounded by abrupt crags and shaded by
green trees, among which houses and towers peeped forth. This was the
country house of Old Dschang. Before the village flowed a deep brook
full of clear, blue water. They passed over a stone bridge and reached
the gate. Here flowers and trees grew in luxurious profusion, and
peacocks and cranes flew about. From the distance could be heard the
sound of flutes and of stringed instruments. Crystal-clear tones rose
to the clouds. A messenger in a purple robe received the guest at the
gate and led him into a hall of surpassing splendor. Strange
fragrances filled the air, and there was a ringing of little bells of
pearl. Two maid-servants came forth to greet him, followed by two rows
of beautiful girls in a long processional. After them a man in a
flowing turban, clad in scarlet silk, with red slippers, came floating
along. The guest saluted him. He was serious and dignified, and at the
same time seemed youthfully fresh. At first We's son did not recognize
him, but when he looked more closely, why it was Old Dschang! The
latter said with a smile: "I am pleased that the long road to travel
has not prevented your coming. Your sister is just combing her hair.
She will welcome you in a moment." Then he had him sit down and drink
tea.
After a short time a maid-servant came and led him to the inner rooms,
to his sister. The beams of her room were of sandalwood, the doors of
tortoise-shell and the windows inlaid with blue jade; her curtains
were formed of strings of pearls and the steps leading into the room
of green nephrite. His sister was magnificently gowned, and far more
beautiful than before. She asked him carelessly how he was getting
along, and what her parents were doing; but was not very cordial.
After a splendid meal she had an apartment prepared for him.
"My sister wishes to make an excursion to the Mountain of the
Fairies," said Old Dschang to him. "We will be back about sunset, and
you can rest until we return."
Then many-colored clouds rose in the courtyard, and dulcet music
sounded on the air. Old Dschang mounted a dragon, while his wife and
sister rode on phenixes and their attendants on cranes. So they rose
into the air and disappeared in an easterly direction. They did not
return until after sunset.
Old Dschang and his wife then said to him: "This is an abode of the
blessed. You cannot remain here overlong. To-morrow we will escort you
back."
On the following day, when taking leave, Old Dschang gave him eighty
ounces of gold and an old straw hat. "Should you need money," said he,
"you can go to Yangdschou and inquire in the northern suburb for old
Wang's drug-shop. There you can collect ten million pieces of copper.
This hat is the order for them." Then he ordered his plow-boy to take
him home again.
Quite a few of the folks at home, to whom he described his adventures,
thought that Old Dschang must be a holy man, while others regarded the
whole thing a magic vision.
After five or six years Sir We's money came to an end. So his son took
the straw hat to Yangdschou and there asked for old Wang. The latter
just happened to be standing in his drug-shop, mixing herbs. When the
son explained his errand he said: "The money is ready. But is your hat
genuine?" And he took the hat and examined it. A young girl came from
an inner room and said: "I wove the hat for Old Dschang myself. There
must be a red thread in it." And sure enough, there was. Then old Wang
gave young We the ten million pieces of copper, and the latter now
believed that Old Dschang was really a saint. So he once more went
over the hills to look for him. He asked the forest-keepers, but they
could tell him naught. Sadly he retraced his steps and decided to
inquire of old Wang, but he had also disappeared.
When several years had passed he once more came to Yangdschou, and was
walking in the meadow before the city gate. There he met Old Dschang's
plow-boy. The latter cried out: "How are you? How are you?" and drew
out ten pounds of gold, which he gave to him, saying: "My mistress
told me to give you this. My master is this very moment drinking tea
with old Wang in the inn." Young We followed the plow-boy, intending
to greet his brother-in-law. But when he reached the inn there was no
one in sight. And when he turned around the plow-boy had disappeared
as well. And since that time no one ever heard from Old Dschang again.
Note: The match-maker, according to Chinese custom--and
the custom of other oriental peoples--is an absolutely
necessary mediator between the two families. There are
old women who make their living at this profession.
XXXVIII
THE KINDLY MAGICIAN
Once upon a time there was a man named Du Dsi Tschun. In his youth he
was a spendthrift and paid no heed to his property. He was given to
drink and idling. When he had run through all his money, his relatives
cast him out. One winter day he was walking barefoot about the city,
with an empty stomach and torn clothes. Evening came on and still he
had not found any food. Without end or aim he wandered about the
market place. He was hungry, and the cold seemed well nigh
unendurable. So he turned his eyes upward and began to lament aloud.
Suddenly an ancient man stood before him, leaning on a staff, who
said: "What do you lack since you complain so?"
"I am dying of hunger," replied Du Dsi Tschun, "and not a soul will
take pity on me!"
The ancient man said: "How much money would you need in order to live
in all comfort?"
"If I had fifty thousand pieces of copper it would answer my purpose,"
replied Du Dsi Tschun.
The ancient said: "That would not answer."
"Well, then, a million!"
"That is still too little!"
"Well, then, three million!"
The ancient man said: "That is well spoken!" He fetched a thousand
pieces of copper out of his sleeve and said: "That is for this
evening. Expect me to-morrow by noon, at the Persian Bazaar!"
At the time set Du Dsi Tschun went there, and, sure enough, there was
the ancient, who gave him three million pieces of copper. Then he
disappeared, without giving his name.
When Du Dsi Tschun held the money in his hand, his love for
prodigality once more awoke. He rode pampered steeds, clothed himself
in the finest furs, went back to his wine, and led such an extravagant
life that the money gradually came to an end. Instead of wearing
brocade he had to wear cotton, and instead of riding horseback he went
to the dogs. Finally he was again running about barefoot and in rags
as before, and did not know how to satisfy his hunger. Once more he
stood in the market-place and sighed. But the ancient was already
there, took him by the hand and said: "Are you back already to where
you were? That is strange! However, I will aid you once more!"
But Du Dsi Tschun was ashamed and did not want to accept his help. Yet
the ancient insisted, and led him along to the Persian Bazaar. This
time he gave him ten million pieces of copper, and Du Dsi Tschun
thanked him with shame in his heart.
With money in hand, he tried to give time to adding to it, and saving
in order to gain great wealth. But, as is always the case, it is hard
to overcome ingrown faults. Gradually he began to fling his money away
again, and gave free rein to all his desires. And once more his purse
grew empty. In a couple of years he was as poor as ever he had been.
Then he met the ancient the third time, but was so ashamed of himself
that he hid his face when he passed him.
The ancient seized his arm and said: "Where are you going? I will help
you once more. I will give you thirty million. But if then you do not
improve you are past all aid!"
Full of gratitude, Du Dsi Tschun bowed before him and said: "In the
days of my poverty my wealthy relatives did not seek me out. You alone
have thrice aided me. The money you give me to-day shall not be
squandered, that I swear; but I will devote it to good works in order
to repay your great kindness. And when I have done this I will follow
you, if needs be through fire and through water."
The ancient replied: "That is right! When you have ordered these
things ask for me in the temple of Laotsze beneath the two mulberry
trees!"
Du Dsi Tschun took the money and went to Yangdschou. There he bought a
hundred acres of the best land, and built a lofty house with many
hundreds of rooms on the highway. And there he allowed widows and
orphans to live. Then he bought a burial-place for his ancestors, and
supported his needy relations. Countless people were indebted to him
for their livelihood.
When all was finished, he went to inquire after the ancient in the
temple of Laotsze. The ancient was sitting in the shade of the
mulberry trees blowing the flute. He took Du Dsi Tschun along with him
to the cloudy peaks of the holy mountains of the West. When they had
gone some forty miles into the mountains, he saw a dwelling, fair and
clean. It was surrounded by many-colored clouds, and peacocks and
cranes were flying about it. Within the house was a herb-oven nine
feet high. The fire burned with a purple flame, and its glow leaped
along the walls. Nine fairies stood at the oven, and a green dragon
and a white tiger crouched beside it. Evening came. The ancient was no
longer clad like an ordinary man; but wore a yellow cap and wide,
flowing garments. He took three pellets of the White Stone, put them
into a flagon of wine, and gave them to Du Dsi Tschun to drink. He
spread out a tiger-skin against the western wall of the inner chamber,
and bade Du Dsi Tschun sit down on it, with his face turned toward the
East. Then he said to him: "Now beware of speaking a single word--no
matter what happens to you, whether you encounter powerful gods or
terrible demons, wild beasts or ogres, or all the tortures of the
nether world, or even if you see your own relatives suffer--for all
these things are only deceitful images! They cannot harm you. Think
only of what I have said, and let your soul be at rest!" And when he
had said this the ancient disappeared.
Then Du Dsi Tschun saw only a large stone jug full of clear water
standing before him. Fairies, dragon and tiger had all vanished.
Suddenly he heard a tremendous crash, which made heaven and earth
tremble. A man towering more than ten feet in height appeared. He
called himself the great captain, and he and his horse were covered
with golden armor. He was surrounded by more than a hundred soldiers,
who drew their bows and swung their swords, and halted in the
courtyard.
The giant called out harshly: "Who are you? Get out of my way!"
Du Dsi Tschun did not move. And he returned no answer to his
questions.
Then the giant flew into a passion and cried with a thundering voice:
"Chop off his head!"
But Du Dsi Tschun remained unmoved, so the giant went off raging.
Then a furious tiger and a poisonous serpent came up roaring and
hissing. They made as though to bite him and leaped over him. But Du
Dsi Tschun remained unperturbed in spirit, and after a time they
dissolved and vanished.
Suddenly a great rain began to fall in streams. It thundered and
lightninged incessantly, so that his ears rang and his eyes were
blinded. It seemed as though the house would fall. The water rose to a
flood in a few moments' time, and streamed up to the place where he
was sitting. But Du Dsi Tschun remained motionless and paid no
attention to it. And after a time the water receded.
Then came a great demon with the head of an ox. He set up a kettle in
the middle of the courtyard, in which bubbled boiling oil. He caught
Du Dsi Tschun by the neck with an iron fork and said: "If you will
tell me who you are I will let you go!"
Du Dsi Tschun shut his eyes and kept silent. Then the demon picked
him up with the fork and flung him into the kettle. He withstood the
pain, and the boiling oil did not harm him. Finally the demon dragged
him out again, and drew him down the steps of the house before a man
with red hair and a blue face, who looked like the prince of the
nether world. The latter cried: "Drag in his wife!"
After a time Du Dsi Tschun's wife was brought on in chains. Her hair
was torn and she wept bitterly.
The demon pointed to Du Dsi Tschun and said: "If you will speak your
name we will let her go!"
But he answered not a word.
Then the prince of evil had the woman tormented in all sorts of ways.
And she pleaded with Du Dsi Tschun: "I have been your wife now for ten
years. Will you not speak one little word to save me? I can endure no
more!" And the tears ran in streams from her eyes. She screamed and
scolded. Yet he spoke not a word.
Thereupon the prince of evil shouted: "Chop her into bits!" And there,
before his eyes, it seemed as though she were really being chopped to
pieces. But Du Dsi Tschun did not move.
"The scoundrel's measure is full!" cried the prince of evil. "He shall
dwell no longer among the living! Off with his head!" And so they
killed him, and it seemed to him that his soul fled his body. The
ox-headed demon dragged him down into the nether regions, where he
tasted all the tortures in turn. But Du Dsi Tschun remembered the
words of the ancient. And the tortures, too, seemed bearable. So he
did not scream and said not a word.
Now he was once more dragged before the prince of evil. The latter
said: "As punishment for his obstinacy this man shall come to earth
again in the shape of a woman!"
The demon dragged him to the wheel of life and he returned to earth
in the shape of a girl. He was often ill, had to take medicine
continually, and was pricked and burned with hot needles. Yet he never
uttered a sound. Gradually he grew into a beautiful maiden. But since
he never spoke, he was known as the dumb maid. A scholar finally took
him for his bride, and they lived in peace and good fellowship. And a
son came to them who, in the course of two years was already beyond
measure wise and intelligent. One day the father was carrying the son
on his arm. He spoke jestingly to his wife and said: "When I look at
you it seems to me that you are not really dumb. Won't you say one
little word to me? How delightful it would be if you were to become my
speaking rose!"
The woman remained silent. No matter how he might coax and try to make
her smile, she would return no answer.
Then his features changed: "If you will not speak to me, it is a sign
that you scorn me; and in that case your son is nothing to me,
either!" And with that he seized the boy and flung him against the
wall.
But since Du Dsi Tschun loved this little boy so dearly, he forgot the
ancient's warning, and cried out: "Oh, oh!"
And before the cry had died away Du Dsi Tschun awoke as though from a
dream and found himself seated in his former place. The ancient was
there as well. It must have been about the fifth hour of the night.
Purple flames rose wildly from the oven, and flared up to the sky. The
whole house caught fire and burned like a torch.
"You have deceived me!" cried the ancient. Then he seized him by the
hair and thrust him into the jug of water. And in a minute the fire
went out. The ancient spoke: "You overcame joy and rage, grief and
fear, hate and desire, it is true; but love you had not driven from
your soul. Had you not cried out when the child was flung against the
wall, then my elixir would have taken shape and you would have
attained immortality. But in the last moment you failed me. Now it is
too late. Now I can begin brewing my elixir of life once more from the
beginning and you will remain a mere mortal man!"
Du Dsi Tschun saw that the oven had burst, and that instead of the
philosopher's stone it held only a lump of iron. The ancient man cast
aside his garments and chopped it up with a magic knife. Du Dsi Tschun
took leave of him and returned to Yangdschou, where he lived in great
affluence. In his old age he regretted that he had not completed his
task. He once more went to the mountain to look for the ancient. But
the ancient had vanished without leaving a trace.
Note: The "pieces of copper" are the ancient Chinese
copper coins, with a hole in the middle, usually hung on
strings to the number of 500 or 1000. Money had a
greater purchasing value in ancient China, however, than
in the China of to-day. The "Persian Bazaar": During the
reign of the Tang dynasty China maintained an active
intercourse with the West, traces of which are at
present being investigated in Central Asia. At that time
Persian bazaars were no novelty in the city of Si-An-Fu,
then the capital. "Herb-oven": a tripod kettle used for
brewing the elixir of life, with which the fairies,
dragon and tiger (both the last-mentioned
star-incarnations) are connected. In order to prepare
the elixir the master must have absolute endurance. It
is for this reason that he had placed Du Dsi Tschun in
his debt by means of kindness. The yellow cap which the
master wears is connected with the teachings of the
Yellow Ancient (comp. w. No. 15). The "prince of the
nether world," Yan Wang, or Yan Lo Wang, is the Indian
god Yama. There are in all ten princes of the nether
world, of whom the fifth is the highest and most feared.
"Obstinacy," literally; his real offense is reticence,
or the keeping secret of a thing. This quality belongs
to the Yin, the dark or feminine principle, and
determines Du Dsi Tschun's reappearance on earth as a
woman. "Purple flames rose wildly from the oven": Though
Du Dsi Tschun had overcome his other emotions, so that
fear and terror did not affect him, love, and love in
its highest form, mother-love, still remained in him.
This love created the flames which threatened to destroy
the building. The highest point in Taoism--as in
Buddhism--is, however, the absolute negation of all
feeling.
NATURE AND ANIMAL TALES
XXXIX
THE FLOWER-ELVES
Once upon a time there was a scholar who lived retired from the world
in order to gain hidden wisdom. He lived alone and in a secret place.
And all about the little house in which he dwelt he had planted every
kind of flower, and bamboos and other trees. There it lay, quite
concealed in its thick grove of flowers. With him he had only a boy
servant, who dwelt in a separate hut, and who carried out his orders.
He was not allowed to appear before his master unless summoned. The
scholar loved his flowers as he did himself. Never did he set his foot
beyond the boundaries of his garden.
It chanced that once there came a lovely spring evening. Flowers and
trees stood in full bloom, a fresh breeze was blowing, the moon shone
clearly. And the scholar sat over his goblet and was grateful for the
gift of life.
Suddenly he saw a maiden in dark garments come tripping up in the
moonlight. She made a deep courtesy, greeted him and said: "I am your
neighbor. We are a company of young maids who are on our way to visit
the eighteen aunts. We should like to rest in this court for awhile,
and therefore ask your permission to do so."
The scholar saw that this was something quite out of the common, and
gladly gave his consent. The maiden thanked him and went away.
In a short time she brought back a whole crowd of maids carrying
flowers and willow branches. All greeted the scholar. They were
charming, with delicate features, and slender, graceful figures. When
they moved their sleeves, a delightful fragrance was exhaled. There is
no fragrance known to the human world which could be compared with it.
The scholar invited them to sit down for a time in his room. Then he
asked them: "Whom have I really the honor of entertaining? Have you
come from the castle of the Lady in the Moon, or the Jade Spring of
the Queen-Mother of the West?"
"How could we claim such high descent?" said a maiden in a green gown,
with a smile. "My name is Salix." Then she presented another, clad in
white, and said: "This is Mistress Prunophora"; then one in rose, "and
this is Persica"; and finally one in a dark-red gown, "and this is
Punica. We are all sisters and we want to visit the eighteen
zephyr-aunts to-day. The moon shines so beautifully this evening and
it is so charming here in the garden. We are most grateful to you for
taking pity on us."
"Yes, yes," said the scholar.
Then the sober-clad servant suddenly announced: "The zephyr-aunts have
already arrived!"
At once the girls rose and went to the door to meet them.
"We were just about to visit you, aunts," they said, smiling. "This
gentleman here had just invited us to sit for a moment. What a
pleasant coincidence that you aunts have come here, too. This is such
a lovely night that we must drink a goblet of nectar in honor of you
aunts!"
Thereon they ordered the servant to bring what was needed.
"May one sit down here?" asked the aunts.
"The master of the house is most kind," replied the maids, "and the
spot is quiet and hidden."
And then they presented the aunts to the scholar. He spoke a few
kindly words to the eighteen aunts. They had a somewhat irresponsible
and airy manner. Their words fairly gushed out, and in their
neighborhood one felt a frosty chill.
Meanwhile the servant had already brought in table and chairs. The
eighteen aunts sat at the upper end of the board, the maids followed,
and the scholar sat down with them at the lowest place. Soon the
entire table was covered with the most delicious foods and most
magnificent fruits, and the goblets were filled with a fragrant
nectar. They were delights such as the world of men does not know! The
moon shone brightly and the flowers exhaled intoxicating odors. After
they had partaken of food and drink the maids rose, danced and sung.
Sweetly the sound of their singing echoed through the falling gloam,
and their dance was like that of butterflies fluttering about the
flowers. The scholar was so overpowered with delight that he no longer
knew whether he were in heaven or on earth.
When the dance had ended, the girls sat down again at the table, and
drank the health of the aunts in flowing nectar. The scholar, too, was
remembered with a toast, to which he replied with well-turned phrases.
But the eighteen aunts were somewhat irresponsible in their ways. One
of them, raising her goblet, by accident poured some nectar on
Punica's dress. Punica, who was young and fiery, and very neat, stood
up angrily when she saw the spot on her red dress.
"You are really very careless," said she, in her anger. "My other
sisters may be afraid of you, but I am not!"
Then the aunts grew angry as well and said: "How dare this young chit
insult us in such a manner!"
And with that they gathered up their garments and rose.
All the maids then crowded about them and said: "Punica is so young
and inexperienced! You must not bear her any ill-will! To-morrow she
shall go to you switch in hand, and receive her punishment!"
But the eighteen aunts would not listen to them and went off.
Thereupon the maids also said farewell, scattered among the
flower-beds and disappeared. The scholar sat for a long time lost in
dreamy yearning.
On the following evening the maids all came back again.
"We all live in your garden," they told him. "Every year we are
tormented by naughty winds, and therefore we have always asked the
eighteen aunts to protect us. But yesterday Punica insulted them, and
now we fear they will help us no more. But we know that you have
always been well disposed toward us, for which we are heartily
grateful. And now we have a great favor to ask, that every New Year's
day you make a small scarlet flag, paint the sun, moon and five
planets on it, and set it up in the eastern part of the garden. Then
we sisters will be left in peace and will be protected from all evil.
But since New Year's day has passed for this year, we beg that you
will set up the flag on the twenty-first of this month. For the East
Wind is coming and the flag will protect us against him!"
The scholar readily promised to do as they wished, and the maids all
said with a single voice: "We thank you for your great kindness and
will repay it!" Then they departed and a sweet fragrance filled the
entire garden.
The scholar, however, made a red flag as described, and when early in
the morning of the day in question the East Wind really did begin to
blow, he quickly set it up in the garden.
Suddenly a wild storm broke out, one that caused the forests to bend,
and broke the trees. The flowers in the garden alone did not move.
Then the scholar noticed that Salix was the willow; Prunophora the
plum; Persica the peach, and the saucy Punica the Pomegranate, whose
powerful blossoms the wind cannot tear. The eighteen zephyr-aunts,
however, were the spirits of the winds.
In the evening the flower-elves all came and brought the scholar
radiant flowers as a gift of thanks.
"You have saved us," they said, "and we have nothing else we can give
you. If you eat these flowers you will live long and avoid old age.
And if you, in turn, will protect us every year, then we sisters, too,
will live long."
The scholar did as they told him and ate the flowers. And his figure
changed and he grew young again like a youth of twenty. And in the
course of time he attained the hidden wisdom and was placed among the
Immortals.
Note. Salix: the names of the "Flower Elves" are given
in the Chinese as family names, whose sound suggests the
flower-names without exactly using them. In the
translation the play on words is indicated by the Latin
names. "Zephyr-aunts": In Chinese the name given the
aunt is "Fong," which in another stylization means
"wind."
XL
THE SPIRIT OF THE WU-LIAN MOUNTAIN
To the west of the gulf of Kiautschou is the Wu-Lian Mountain, where
there are many spirits. Once upon a time a scholar who lived there was
sitting up late at night, reading. And, as he stepped out before the
house, a storm rose up suddenly, and a monster stretched out his claws
and seized him by the hair. And he lifted him up in the air and
carried him away. They passed by the tower which looks out to sea, a
Buddhist temple in the hills. And in the distance, in the clouds, the
scholar saw the figure of a god in golden armor. The figure looked
exactly like the image of Weto which was in the tower. In its right
hand it held an iron mace, while its left pointed toward the monster,
and it looked at it with anger. Then the monster let the scholar fall,
right on top of the tower, and disappeared. No doubt the saint in the
tower had come to the scholar's aid, because his whole family
worshiped Buddha dutifully.
When the sun rose the priest came and saw the scholar on his tower. He
piled up hay and straw on the ground; so that he could jump down
without hurting himself. Then he took the scholar home, yet there
where the monster had seized his hair, the hair remained stiff and
unyielding. It did not improve until half a year had gone by.
Note: This legend comes from Dschungschong, west of the
gulf of Kiautschou. "The tower which looks out to sea,"
a celebrated tower which gives a view of the ocean. At
present the people give this name to the Tsingtau Signal
Station. Weto (Sanscrit, Veda), a legendary Boddhisatva,
leader of the hosts of the four kings of heaven. His
picture, with drawn sword, may be found at the entrance
of every Buddhist temple. In China, he is often
represented with a mace (symbolizing a thunderbolt)
instead of a sword. When this is the case he has
probably been confused with Vaisramana.
XLI
THE KING OF THE ANTS
Once upon a time there was a scholar, who wandered away from his home
and went to Emmet village. There stood a house which was said to be
haunted. Yet it was beautifully situated and surrounded by a lovely
garden. So the scholar hired it. One evening he was sitting over his
books, when several hundred knights suddenly came galloping into the
room. They were quite tiny, and their horses were about the size of
flies. They had hunting falcons and dogs about as large as gnats and
fleas.
They came to his bed in the corner of the room, and there they held a
great hunt, with bows and arrows: one could see it all quite plainly.
They caught a tremendous quantity of birds and game, and all this game
was no larger than little grains of rice.
When the hunt was over, in came a long procession with banners and
standards. They wore swords at their side and bore spears in their
hands, and came to a halt in the north-west corner of the room. They
were followed by several hundred serving-men. These brought with them
curtains and covers, tents and tent-poles, pots and kettles, cups and
plates, tables and chairs. And after them some hundreds of other
servants carried in all sorts of fine dishes, the best that land and
water had to offer.
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/29939