Folktales from China
edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 1998-2002
There once lived a landlord who loved money as he loved his own life. In his eyes the smallest coin seemed as large as a millstone. He was always on the lookout for some new way of making money and was very mean to his peasant tenants. They all called him "Skinflint."
One year a long spell of drought devastated the area, ruining the entire crop. The peasants, who were used to living from year to year, and never had a reserve of grain to fall back on, were reduced to eating bark and roots to survive, and now even these were all consumed. Starvation drove them to ask for a loan of grain from Skinflint, whose granaries, big and small, were filled to overflowing. Although the grain was sprouting and the flour was swarming with maggots, he was such a miser that he wouldn't part with a single speck of either. His peasants went away seething with anger and resentment, and resolved to find some way to teach him a lesson.
They put their heads together and came up with rather a good plan. They collected together a few tiny silver ingots and also managed to procure a scraggy little horse. They stuffed the silver up the horse's behind and bunged it up with a wad of cotton floss. Then they selected one of their number, a peasant whose gift of gab had earned him the nickname "Bigmouth" and who was credited with the power of talking the dead out of their graves. They sent him to Skinflint with the horse. Seeing them enter, Skinflint flew into a rage. His whiskers bristled.
He glowered at Bigmouth, pointing at him angrily and shouting, "You damn fool! You have fouled my courtyard enough. Get out of my sight!"
"Please keep your voice down, Master," said Bigmouth with a cunning smile. "If you frighten my horse and make him bolt, you'd have to sell everything you've got to make good the damage."
"There you go, Bigmouth, bragging again!" said Skinflint. "What can this scraggy little horse of yours possibly be worth?"
To which Bigmouth replied, "Oh, nothing, except that when he moves his bowels silver and gold come out."
In an instant Skinflint's anger evaporated and he hastened to ask, "Where did you get hold of this beast?"
"I dreamt a dream the night before last," began Bigmouth. "I met a white-bearded old man who said to me, 'Bigmouth, the colt who used to carry gold and silver ingots for the God of Wealth has been demoted and sent down to Earth. Go to the northeast and catch him. When he moves his bowels, silver and gold come out. If you catch him, you'll make a fortune.' Then the old man gave me a push and I woke up. I didn't take it seriously, thinking it to be nothing but a dream. I turned over and fell asleep again. However, as soon as I closed my eyes, the old man reappeared and urged me to hurry up. 'The horse will fall into another's hands if you delay!' he said, and gave me another push which woke me up again. I put on my clothes and ran out. In the northeast I saw a ball of fire. When I ran over, sure enough, there was the colt, grazing contentedly. So I led him home. The following day, I set up an incense burner and as soon as I lit the incense, the colt began to produce silver ingots from its behind."
"Did it really?" asked Skinflint eagerly.
Bigmouth replied, "There's an old proverb which says, 'The proof of the pudding is in the eating.' If you don't believe me, allow me to arrange a demonstration."
He asked Skinflint to set up a burner and light some incense. Meanwhile, he himself held a plate below the horse's behind. He secretly pulled out the wad of cotton and the tiny silver ingots fell jingling onto the plate. On seeing the horse perform like this, Skinflint asked avidly, "How much does he produce a day?"
"Three or four taels a day for us less lucky folk," replied Bigmouth. "But the old man in my dream said that if he meets a really lucky person he produces thirty or forty."
Skinflint thought to himself, "I must be one of those. Supposing I get the horse, he is bound to produce at least twenty taels a day. That means six hundred taels a month and seven thousand two hundred taels a year."
The longer his sums became, the fonder he grew of the horse. He decided that he must buy him, and talked it over with Bigmouth.
At first Bigmouth pretended to be unwilling. Skinflint tried again and again to persuade him and promised to pay any price he asked. In the end Bigmouth sighed and said, "Oh well, so be it. My luck is evidently worse than yours. I'll sell. But I don't want silver or gold, just give me thirty bushels of grain."
Skinflint considered the price very cheap and readily agreed. They made the exchange then and there.
Bigmouth hurried back with the grain and distributed it among his fellow peasants. They were all very happy to have it. Skinflint, for his part, felt even happier to have the horse, and just couldn't stop chuckling to himself. He was afraid of losing the horse, however, and tried to tie him up in a great many places, but none of them seemed safe enough. Finally, he tied him up in his own living room. He laid a red carpet on the floor and set up an incense burner. The whole family watched the colt in eager anticipation, expecting him any minute to start producing silver and gold.
They waited till midnight. Suddenly the horse opened his hind legs. Skinflint sensed that he was about to "produce." He quickly brought over a lacquered tray and held it right below the horse's behind. He waited for ages, but nothing happened. Skinflint was so anxious by now that he lifted the horse's tail, bent down and peered upwards to keep an eye on further developments. There was a sudden "splash," and before Skinflint could do anything about it, the horse had splattered him all over his face. The "liquid gold" ran down the back of his head and down his neck, covering his whole body. The stench was so vile that Skinflint started jumping and shouting and then felt nauseous and began to vomit again and again. Next the horse urinated in great quantity, ruining the lovely red carpet. The whole room stunk to high heaven. Skinflint realized that he had been cheated, and in a fit of rage, he killed the horse.
The following morning, first thing, he sent some of his hired thugs to track down Bigmouth. But the peasants had already hidden him away. Skinflint's men searched for him high and low but always came back empty handed, to his fury and exasperation. There was nothing he could do except send out spies and wait.
In the twinkling of an eye, it was winter. One day Bigmouth failed to hide properly and was caught by one of Skinflint's henchmen. When he came face to face with his foe, Skinflint gnashed his teeth with rage and without saying a word, had Bigmouth locked up in his mill. He had him stripped of all his padded clothes and left him with nothing but a cotton shirt, hoping to freeze him to death. It was the very coldest season of the year. Outside, snow was falling and a bitter wind was blowing. Bigmouth sat huddled up in a corner, trembling with cold. As the cold was becoming unbearable, an idea suddenly occurred to him. He stood up at once, heaved a millstone up off the ground and began walking back and forth with it in his arms. He soon warmed up and started sweating. He passed the entire night in this way, walking around with the millstone and occasionally stopping for a rest.
Early next morning Skinflint thought Bigmouth must surely be dead. But when he unlocked the mill door, to his great surprise, he found Bigmouth squatting there in a halo of steam, his whole body in a muck of sweat. Bigmouth stood up at once and begged him, "Master, take pity on me! Quick, lend me a fan! Or I shall die of heat!"
"How come you are so hot?" asked the dumbfounded Skinflint.
"This shirt of mine is a priceless heirloom," Bigmouth explained. "It's called the Fire Dragon Shirt. The colder the weather, the greater the heat it gives off."
"When did you get hold of it?"
"Originally it was the pelt cast off by the Lord Fire Dragon. Then the Queen of the Western Heaven wove it into a shirt. Later on it somehow fell into the possession of my ancestors and became a family heirloom. It has been passed down from generation to generation until finally it came into my hands."
Seeing how unbearably hot he was, Skinflint swallowed the whole story. He was now set on getting hold of this Fire Dragon Shirt and had completely forgotten the episode of the gold colt. He insisted on bartering his fox-fur gown for the shirt. Bigmouth absolutely refused at first, but when Skinflint added fifty taels of silver to the price, he said with a sigh, "Alas, what a worthless son am I, to have thus lost my family's treasured heirloom!"
Having said this, he took off his shirt and put on Skinflint's fox-fur gown. Then he pocketed the fifty taels of silver and strode away.
Skinflint's joy knew no bounds. Several days later his father-in-law's birthday came round. In order to show off his new acquisition, he went to convey his birthday greetings wearing nothing but the Fire Dragon Shirt. In the middle of the journey, a fierce wind came up and it began to snow. Skinflint felt unbearably cold. The place was far from village or inn, and there was no shelter of any sort to be found. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a tree by the roadside, half of which had burnt away in a fire. It was hollow in the middle and the space was wide enough for a person to stand up in. Skinflint hurried over and hid inside. Shortly afterwards his whole body became numb with cold, and soon he died.
Several days later the family found his body. They knew that he had been cheated again by Bigmouth, and sent men to seize him.
"My precious shirt burns whenever it comes into contact with kindling, grass or timber," explained Bigmouth. "The master must have been burned to death in this way. I am not to blame. I never told him to hide inside a tree. If you look, you will see that half of the tree has been burnt away."
When the family examined the tree and saw that it was indeed as Bigmouth had described, they had no choice but to set him free.
Once upon a time in a certain place there lived three men who all had the same name -- Genjia. One was the tribal chief, the second a carpenter, and the third the chief's steward.
Genjia the carpenter was married to an exceptionally beautiful woman. Genjia the steward fancied her and dreamt day and night of having her for himself. But she was a very upright woman and would not let him get anywhere near her. Finally, he was driven to find some way of killing the carpenter in order to attain his end.
After a while, the father of Genjia the chief died. The steward saw in this a golden opportunity for eliminating the carpenter. Every day he secretly studied the calligraphy of the Buddhist scriptures and succeeded in reproducing the old-fashioned and esoteric style in which they were written. He then wrote a document in this style and handed it to the chief, saying, "Master, here is a document I came across the other day. I cannot understand a word of it and have brought it here specially for you to decipher."
Genjia the chief was baffled by the writing and passed it on to his secretary in charge of documents. After reading it, the secretary said, "This document claims to be from the old chief. In it he says that he has ascended to heaven and is now serving as an official there, but he doesn't have an official mansion. He asks you, Master, to send him a carpenter -- the most skilled you have -- to direct the construction of such a mansion."
Genjia the chief thought constantly of his father and was most concerned to hear that he had nowhere to lay his head in heaven. He sent for Genjia the carpenter, showed him the document and ordered him to go to heaven at once.
Genjia the carpenter was greatly startled. He dared not refuse, however, and could only plead for time, "How could I disobey your order, Master! But I need some time to prepare. Please allow me seven days. After that time, please hold a Twig Burning Ceremony in the hemp field behind my house to send me off. Then I'll be able to ascend to heaven to build the mansion for the old chief."
Genjia the chief considered this request reasonable and willingly agreed.
When Genjia the carpenter left, he went round making a few investigations. He wanted to find out where the chief had got this idea. He eventually discovered that it had originated in a classical document found by Genjia the steward. He put two and two together and concluded that it must be a sinister plot against him hatched by the steward.
He went home and consulted with his wife. "The most absurd thing has happened. The chief wants me to go and build a mansion in heaven. He must have been tricked into it by Genjia the steward. I did not dare refuse, but asked him to hold a Twig Burning Ceremony behind our house before I go. It would be no use trying to disobey him now. There is only one way for me to get out of this alive. The two of us must dig a tunnel under cover of night leading from the field to our bedroom, and then you can hide me there later. In a year's time I will find some way to get even."
The wife was shocked by this tale. Hatred for the steward filled the very marrow of her bones. She was willing to do anything to save her husband. So every day when night fell, the two of them dug the tunnel in secret. On the seventh day it was completed. They sealed the entrance with a slab of stone and scattered soil on it, so that people wouldn't notice it.
The eighth day came, the day for the carpenter to ascend to heaven. At the head of a retinue of elders and stewards and with a great din of bugles and drums, the chief came to send him off. They made a pile of faggots in the hemp field and asked Genjia the carpenter to sling his tool-kit over his shoulder and carry his bag in one hand. They made him stand in the middle, lit the faggots and watched the smoke rise, "carrying him up to heaven".
Genjia the steward was afraid that as soon as the faggots were lit, the carpenter would spoil everything by crying out in terror. "Come on !" he shouted to the crowd. "Blow your bugles and beat your drums! Laugh and cheer! Genjia the carpenter is on his way to heaven to build a mansion for our old chief. Isn't that a wonderful thing!"
The chief came over to have a look. Genjia the steward pointed gleefully to the rising smoke and said, "Master, you see, there goes his horse. Genjia the carpenter is on his way to heaven."
The chief was delighted.
The moment the faggots were lit and the smoke began rising into the sky, Genjia the carpenter raised the slab and escaped through the tunnel back to his own bedroom.
He confined himself to his house for a whole year. His wife went to great lengths to find milk, butter and other nutritious food for him; and as he did no work, by the end of that year he was plumper and fairer-skinned than ever.
Meanwhile, Genjia the steward tried a thousand and one ways of seducing the carpenter's wife, and she tried a thousand and one ways of avoiding him. He failed completely to attain his goal.
While Genjia the carpenter was hiding at home, he diligently practiced the calligraphy of the Buddhist scriptures. He prepared a document written in the authentic style and kept it on his person. On the first anniversary of his "ascent to heaven" he went and stood on the very spot where he was supposed to have been burned, the same tool-kit on his shoulder and the same bag in his hand. He called out, "How is everybody? I've just got back from heaven."
His wife was the first to come out. She pretended to be extremely surprised and hurried over to report the news to the chief.
The chief was very happy when he heard that Genjia the carpenter was back. He gave him a hero's welcome with bugles and drums, and invited him to stay in his mansion. He wanted to find out how his father was faring in heaven.
On meeting the chief, Genjia the carpenter said in a very serious tone of voice, "When I was constructing the official mansion in heaven, the old chief treated me with exceptional kindness, just as you always do, Master. That's why I'm in such good shape! The mansion is finished, and what a magnificent building it is -- ten times the size of an earthly mansion! Only one thing is lacking: a steward. The old chief misses his old steward dearly. He very much wants the steward to go up to heaven and manage things for him. After a period of time he can come back." This said, he promptly produced the document and showed it to the chief, adding that it was the old chief who had asked him to bring it down.
Genjia the chief read the document and was totally convinced by the whole story. Presently he sent for Genjia the steward and asked him to go and work for the old chief in his newly-built mansion in heaven.
When Genjia the steward saw Genjia the carpenter standing there and looking so well after his "ascent to heaven," and when he heard the vivid description of heaven given by the carpenter, he just didn't know what to think. "Perhaps I really possess some sort of magic power", he thought to himself. "It was my idea for him to go to heaven, and he actually seems to have done so! Perhaps it really is possible to fly to heaven, and the old chief really does have a new mansion there!"
He followed the carpenter's example and asked for seven days to get ready, and a Twig Burning Ceremony to be held in the hemp field behind his house to send him off to heaven. He thought that since Genjia the carpenter could come back, he could too. On the eighth day, as on the previous occasion, Genjia the steward stood in the middle of the faggots with a box on his shoulder and a bag in his hand. As on the previous occasion, there was a great din of bugles and drums, and the chief gave the order to light the faggots and send him off to heaven.
But the outcome this time was somewhat different. One difference was that after everything was over, a pile of charred bones was found among the ashes. Another difference was that the steward never came back. He stayed on in heaven forever to help the old chief run his mansion.
Once upon a time a landlord hired a shepherd boy whose name was Aniz. He was very well liked. What people liked most of all was to listen to him playing the flute. His flute looked very simple, no more than a length of bamboo; but in his hands it became a wonderful instrument. Whenever they were free, people would sit around Aniz and entertain themselves by listening to him play. The landlord was heartily sick of both the boy and his flute. He was constantly finding fault with him and scolding him, "You little wretch! Do I pay you to sit there playing the flute?" In point of fact, Aniz' flute-playing did not interfere with his work in the slightest.
One day the landlord found some slight pretext to give Aniz a terrible beating. That was not enough; he was not content until he had driven him out and trampled his flute into little pieces. "Good! I should like to see you play the flute now!"
Poor Aniz left the landlord's house and, with tears trickling down his face, wandered through the streets.
He chanced to meet an old man. "Hello! What's the trouble, young fellow? Who are your parents? Why are you out here all on your own, crying?" the old man asked, stroking Aniz's head.
"Grandpa! I am a shepherd. My name is Aniz. The landlord beat me, drove me out and trampled my lovely flute to pieces..." Aniz began crying again.
"Don't cry, Aniz," said the old man kindly. "Come along and stay with me! I shall show you a way to avenge yourself." He took Aniz to his home. There he used a length of bamboo to make him a new flute which was much better than his old one. He taught him how to play it, and after his lessons with the old man, Aniz could play more beautifully than ever. This time it was not just people who enjoyed his playing; even the various animals in the forest came and sat round him, listening to him quietly and never wanting to leave. As time passed, Aniz and the animals became close friends.
One day the landlord summoned his sons and said, "Last night I dreamt of a beautiful rabbit, white as snow, with a black spot on the top of its head. I liked the look of it very much. You must try your best to catch it for me in the forest."
"Father, we have never even heard of such a rabbit!" his sons replied. "Where can we go to catch it for you?"
"You hopeless creatures! Didn't you hear what I said just now?" cried the landlord in a temper. "Go and look for it. Whoever finds it will inherit all I have when I die."
The eldest son thought to himself, "I am the eldest. I should inherit father's property anyway, whether I catch the rabbit or not. But supposing they..." He stepped forward and said, "Brothers, let me go! I fear no danger, if only I can make father happy!"
He set off on his way looking around him carefully, and after a while an old man came towards him and asked, "Young man, where are you going?" The eldest son told him why he had come.
"Go to the forest then," said the old man, "and look for the rabbit! Aniz is tending my cattle there. Tell him what you want and he'll help you."
The eldest son went into the forest, found Aniz and asked him for his help. "Of course!" Aniz smiled, "I can help you to find the strange rabbit. Come and get it this evening. But you must bring with you a thousand strings of cash to pay for it."
The eldest son reckoned gleefully, "Compared with the property I am going to inherit, a thousand strings of cash are nothing!" In the evening he returned to the forest with the money and found Aniz sitting on a tree stump, playing his flute. All the little animals were squatting round him entranced, pricking up their ears to listen to the music. The eldest son saw the white rabbit among them at once. It really did have had a tiny black spot on the top of its head.
Aniz saw the rabbit too. He put down his flute, stretched out his hand, took hold of it by its long ears and handed it to the eldest son. "Here you are. Hold it tightly! If it escapes, it's none of my business."
The eldest son paid the money, thanked Aniz profusely and set off home with the little white rabbit. He was about to leave the forest when he heard Aniz playing the flute again. As soon as the rabbit heard the music, it burst from his hand and ran for all it was worth. The eldest son searched for it for a long time but could not find any trace of it. In the end he gave up and went to see Aniz again.
"The white rabbit has run away. What can I do?" he asked.
Aniz answered, "There is nothing I can do about it. Didn't I warn you a moment ago to hold it tightly? It's no use blaming me."
The eldest son had no alternative but to go home empty-handed and tell his story to the landlord.
The second son said, "Father, don't worry. I'll go and catch it tomorrow." Next day, the second son went to try his luck and met the same fate as his elder brother -- time wasted and another thousand strings of cash down the drain. On the third day, the youngest son went, but he fared no better.
It made the landlord very angry to watch his three sons lose three thousand strings of cash like this, without so much as a piece of fluff to show for it.
"You fools!" he cried. "You worthless pack of fools! Tomorrow I shall go and catch it myself!"
So the following day the landlord went into the forest. When Aniz spotted him, his eyes blazed with hatred. Before the landlord could open his mouth, Aniz took out his flute and began playing. All the beasts of the forest -- rabbits, bears, snakes, wolves, foxes and many different sorts of birds -- came and encircled the landlord. Terror drove the last drop of color from his cheeks. He fell to his knees in despair and entreated Aniz, "My lord, save me ! Save me!"
"Landlord! Do you remember Aniz? At one sound from my flute, these animals will eat you alive!"
"Alas... Ah! My lord! Don't treat me as once I treated you!" He lay prostrate at Aniz' feet and sobbed, "I promise to give you anything you want. Don't let them... I'm so scared...."
"Very well. I will spare your wretched life this once. But you must never bully poor folk again! If you don't turn over a new leaf, I won't be so easy on you next time. And when you get home, you must give half of all your worldly goods to the poor villagers. Is that clear?"
"Yes! Yes!" The landlord rose to his feet and fled in abject terror. He followed Aniz' instructions and distributed half of his estate to the poor. That made Aniz more popular than ever.
A carpenter and a blacksmith had an argument. Each of them insisted that he was more skilful than the other. Who was actually the more skilful of the two? They disputed this question for a long time without reaching any conclusion. Finally they agreed, "Let's go to the king and ask him to be the judge."
So they came to the king who asked them, "What have you come for?"
"I am a carpenter," said the one. "And my handiwork is more ingenious than the handiwork of any other carpenter in the world. But he said that I cannot match him in skill."
The blacksmith said, "Whoever sees my work praises it. But he insists that my skill is inferior to his."
"We want Your Majesty to be our judge and tell us whose skill is truly superior," the two pleaded. This put the king in a difficult position. "How can I form a judgement without seeing a single thing you have made?" said he. "I'll give you ten days. In that time you must each make a sample of your work and bring it here."
The two went home and each set his hand to his task. Ten days later, they came to the king again. The blacksmith brought with him a huge iron fish. "What can this do?" asked the king.
The blacksmith told him, "This iron fish of mine can float in the sea loaded with a hundred thousand sacks of grain."
These words made the king laugh inwardly. "This fellow is bound to come out the loser," he said to himself. "Such heavy iron will definitely sink when put in the water. How can it possibly float? But anyway, they may as well put a hundred thousand sacks of grain into the thing and see what happens." On his orders, the iron fish was launched. Strangely enough, it moved through the water with speed and without the least trace of clumsiness. It caused quite a sensation among the spectators. The king was most impressed and even promised the blacksmith an official post. Later he actually made him beadle of one of his districts.
The carpenter came with a wooden horse slung over his shoulder. When he saw it, the king pulled a long face, "Surely this is a child's toy? How can it compare with the iron fish?"
"Oh, it's even better than the iron fish," said the carpenter. "It has twenty-six screws on it. When you loosen the first screw, the wooden horse will fly into the sky; when you loosen the second screw, it will accelerate. If you loosen all the twenty-six screws, it will fly more quickly than any bird and take you around the world."
The young prince happened to be present while they were talking about this. His curiosity was greatly aroused when he heard that the wooden horse could fly. How he wished he could fly up into the sky and have a look at the world! He turned to the king and asked him to let him have a ride. The king said, "No, it's out of the question. Are you even sure that it can really fly? What if it rises into the sky and then falls to the ground?"
"Don't worry," said the carpenter. "There is no chance of that ever happening."
The little prince kept pestering his father. Since the king doted on him and had never refused him anything, he got his way in the end. "But you can only try it out," said the king. "You must fly slowly and only loosen the first screw." Agreeing to this, the little prince mounted the horse. He loosened the first screw, and sure enough, the wooden horse rose into the air. He looked down and saw everything beneath him moving further away: the mountains, the rivers, the trees, the towns, the crowds of people. He was so delighted that he loosened one screw after another. The wooden horse flew faster and faster and soon crowds, trees, towns were all out of sight. As he flew, the little prince became hungry. He looked down and saw another city beneath him. He tightened the screws one by one. The wooden horse slowed down and gradually landed. The little prince had a meal and put up for the night at an inn. What fun! To arrive like this, in the twinkling of an eye, in a new town, a town he had never seen before!
The next day the little prince went sight-seeing. Having strolled along several streets, he found himself in a square filled with people gazing up into the sky. "There must be something fascinating up there in the sky," he thought. He elbowed his way into the crowd and looked up, but there was nothing to be seen.
"What are you looking at?" he asked a man beside him. The man gave him a scrutinizing glance and replied, "Our king has a princess. No one in the world can match her in beauty. The king loves her so much that he will not let anybody look at her. The princess used to live in the palace, but the king thought that she was not safe enough there, so he has had a mansion built in the sky and the princess lives there all by herself. Every day, when the court is dismissed, the king goes up to see her. He has been there for quite a long while and is expected to return at any moment. That's why everyone is here, waiting for him."
This sounded quite strange to the little prince.
"Surely it's impossible to build a palace in the sky?"
"The palace was built by an immortal, and only the king can go there," said the man.
The little prince bore these words in mind. That night he mounted his wooden horse and flew up into the sky, where sure enough, a magnificent palace greeted his eyes. He flew directly to the door, dismounted from his horse and walked in. Seeing a man come in, the princess at first took him for her father. When she discovered her mistake, she thought he must be a god come down from heaven and hurriedly stood up to greet him. "What a lovely young lady!" thought the prince. "What a handsome young man!" thought the princess. They fell in love at first sight and without knowing what they were doing, they walked up to each other and embraced.
The following morning the little prince returned to the inn on his horse, and later that day, the king came to the palace in the sky as usual. The first thing he did was to weigh the princess. He used to do this every day, for he knew that a woman would put on weight if she had touched a man. As he weighed her that day, he found the princess two pounds heavier than usual. He flew into a rage, he scowled and his beard stood on end. People were very puzzled that day because the king returned to his palace rather early. Seeing that he was in a bad mood, his courtiers came forward to ask what was troubling him. The king told them what had happened. "Who else can go up there but me?" he asked, and then added, "You must find me a way to arrest this man."
One of his courtiers made a suggestion, "We have four mighty warriors in our kingdom. Your Majesty can send them up to stand at the foot of the four walls of the palace. When the man turns up, they wil1 he sure to catch him." The king thought this an excellent idea. That evening he personally took the warriors up and showed them where to hide and keep watch. When everything was set, the king went down to his palace. But, unfortunately for his plans, the warriors were inveterate sleepy heads and soon fell asleep at their posts. The little prince came again and stayed with impunity until dawn.
When the king arrived and weighed the princess, he discovered that she had put on weight again. He was speechless with rage.
He called in another courtier for consultation. The courtier said, "Why not apply a coat of paint to the bed and chairs of the princess? Then tomorrow we can search the city and whoever has paint on his clothes is our man." The king followed his advice and had the princess' bed, chairs and all her other furniture painted. In the evening the little prince came again. On his way back, he noticed that his clothes were badly stained with paint, so he took them off and threw them away.
It so happened that in the town there lived a poor old man who got up before dawn every day and went from door to door waking people to go to mosque. While he was on his rounds that day, something dropped from the sky. He picked it up and found it to be a set of very fine clothes. "I have been serving Allah all my life and this must be my reward!" the old man thought to himself and took the clothes home.
That evening, when the whole town came to the mosque to pray, the king secretly sent his men to search for the suspect. The old man who was happily wearing his "reward from Allah" soon got into trouble. In the middle of the service, he was arrested and brought to the king. "Why are your clothes stained with paint?" the king questioned him. The old man answered, "I picked these clothes up off the ground and they were like this when I found them." The king didn't believe his story and sent him to prison to be interrogated under torture. Without much trouble, they managed to extract some sort of confession from him, and he was sentenced to death by hanging.
The whole town was abuzz with this affair, and everyone was curious to know what this man was like who had succeeded in getting into the palace in the sky. When they saw this old man being led to the scaffold, no one thought he could possibly have done it. They began to talk about the case, and all felt that he must have been falsely accused. When the news reached the ears of the little prince, his conscience drove him to intervene. Carrying the wooden horse under his arm, he dashed to the execution ground where the noose had already been tied around the man's neck.
"Don't hang him! He is innocent!" shouted the prince. "It is I who went to the palace in the sky. The paint-stained clothes are mine. If you want to hang someone, hang me and let him go!"
The king, who was watching from a distance, saw the execution come to a halt and sent someone to ask what had happened. The hangman told him, "A young man has just come forward and confessed the crime. Which of them should be hanged?"
"Hang the one who has pleaded guilty," ordered the king. So the old man was released and went home, thanking his lucky stars for this narrow escape. The little prince, meanwhile, just as the hangman came over to bind him for the hanging, mounted his wooden horse, loosened the screws and rose into the air before everyone's eyes. Seeing that all his men could not even deal with this one youth, the king fainted with rage.
The little prince arrived at the palace in the sky and said to the princess, "Our love is so deep that we can never part. Now that we have been detected by your father, I am sure he won't allow me to stay here any longer. There is only one way out. Come home with me. I know my father will like you."
The princess agreed and said, "Wherever you go, I will go too." The two hurried out of the palace in the sky and flew away on the wooden horse. They had been flying for a long time when the princess suddenly cried out, "I forgot to bring the two precious stones my mother gave me when I was a little girl. Let me go back and get them. I should like to give them to your parents at our wedding."
"We are already a long way from the palace," said the little prince. "Let's not bother with them now." But the princess insisted on going back, and in the end, the little prince had to give in. He tightened the screws and the wooden horse landed.
The prince said, "I'll wait for you here. Go to the palace on the wooden horse and come back as soon as you have collected the precious stones." The princess mounted the wooden horse and flew away.
Meanwhile, the king, who had been brought round by his courtiers, feared the worst for his daughter. He hurried up to the palace in the sky and, just as expected, found the place empty. He was at his wits' end when suddenly the princess arrived on the wooden horse. His men captured her and took her down to his palace, where they locked her up in an empty room. The wooden horse also fell into the hands of the king, but he had no idea how to use it and just stored it in another empty room.
Long before all this, there had been another king who, hearing of the beauty of the princess, had asked for her hand for his own son, only to be rejected by the princess' father. After this affair, however, it suited him to marry her to someone who lived a long way away, and he sent a message to this king, saying, "My daughter has reached the age of marriage, and I am therefore willing to marry her to your son. This will make our two families closely related and will bring an enduring peace to our two kingdoms. Please let your son come and take his bride."
But let us leave aside the king and his daughter and turn once more to the little prince.
He waited for a long time, but there was no sign of the princess. Looking around, he found himself in a boundless stretch of desert with towering sand dunes in every direction. The sand was blowing in the wind, the scorching sun was directly over head and there was not so much as a single blade of grass to be seen. Time passed, and he became hungry and thirsty. But when he rose to his feet and went in search of water, there was not a drop to be found. "I may be able to see something from the top of those dunes," he thought, but as he climbed, the shifting sand buried his feet, making every step a struggle. With great difficulty he finally reached the top. As he raised his head to look around, the sand underneath gave way like melting ice in spring. He slipped over and downward and when he came to a stop, he saw before him a lush orchard filled with all kinds of fruit trees. The ripe fruits, red and green, hung heavy on the trees. His mouth watered. He ran in, picked several peaches and began gobbling them up. He ate his fill of the sweet, juicy fruits and then fell asleep against a tree.
When he woke up, he felt his chin and found his whole face covered with a growth of beard. As he was wondering what had happened, he felt hungry again but did not dare to eat any more peaches. He suspected them of being the cause of his beard. Then he saw a pear tree. Pulling down a branch, he picked a few large succulent pears. The more he ate, the more delicious they tasted. When he was sated with the pears, he fell asleep again and did not wake till dusk. Stretching himself, he bumped his head against a tree. His head seemed heavier than usual and when he felt it, he discovered that he had grown a pair of thick horns and his chin was covered with a snowy white beard more than a foot long. "How terrible I look!" thought the little prince. "Even if the princess returns, she will never recognize me and will never love me again. What can I do?" The more he thought the more wretched he felt, and he burst into tears. After a while, exhausted with weeping, he fell into a deep sleep.
He dreamed that an old man came to see him. "My child, why are you so sad?" he asked, stroking the little prince's head. When the little prince told him what had happened, the old man said, "Don't worry. Go and pick up some of the dried peaches and pears that have fallen under the trees and eat them, then your beard and your horns will disappear. Leave quickly! This place is inhabited by demons. They are now asleep. When they awake, they will devour you."
The words startled the little prince from sleep. He rubbed his eyes. A cool breeze was blowing, carrying away with it the heat of the desert. Following the advice of the old man in his dream, he gathered a handful of dry peaches and a handful of dry pears and chewed them slowly. Sure enough, when he finished eating and felt his chin and head again, the beard and the horns had vanished. He pondered for a while. Then, breaking some willow twigs, he wove a basket and filled half of it with dry peaches and pears and half with fresh. He hurried from the demon's orchard.
He wanted to go home, but had no idea in which direction home lay. "The important thing is just to keep going!" he thought to himself. Everywhere he went, it was desert with no sign of human habitation. He had only the dry peaches and pears to allay his hunger and the vast desert to sleep on. He walked like this for seven days and nights and saw not even a bird, let alone a human being.
Finally he reached a highway. Breathing a sigh of relief, he sat down by the roadside to rest.
Presently he saw a man driving a donkey along the road. From him the little prince learnt that his home lay to the east, while the kingdom of the princess lay to the west. "How can I go home now, having lost both the princess and the wooden horse?" he thought to himself. So he chose to go west along the road. As he was walking, he heard the sound of men shouting orders. A great cortege caught up with him. The men were in full armor, the horses likewise; it was a most impressive sight.
In the middle was a carriage intricately inlaid with gold, with glass windows on all four sides. Four elaborately caparisoned horses led the way. The little prince had stepped aside to watch, but to his surprise the carriage came to a halt in front of him and a man came up and asked him, "What are you selling?"
"Nothing," replied the little prince.
But the man pointed to his basket and said, "Aren't these peaches and pears? After a hard day's journey, our prince is thirsty and hungry. Please be so good as to sell us some of your fruit."
"This fruit is not for sale," said the little prince. "It is food for my journey. Can't you see that there is not even a blade of grass to be found on this road? Where can I find food to eat if I sell this to you?"
Meanwhile the prince inside the carriage was shouting to his men to hurry up. "Pay whatever he asks!" he cried, handing them out an ingot of gold.
"Where are you going?" inquired the little prince.
"Our master is on his way to his wedding," answered the men. "His bride is the princess in the town ahead." So saying, he pointed to the west. The little prince was shaken by the news, but he managed to maintain an unruffled appearance. After he had asked some more detailed questions and was sure that the bride was none other than the princess he loved, he accepted the gold, chose two especially red peaches and two especially big pears from his basket and handed them to the men.
The prince inside the carriage was delighted to have the fruit and devoured it ravenously. The cortege then continued on its way, and with the rocking of the carriage, the prince gradually fell asleep. When he awoke, he gave a great start and began crying out loud. His escort gathered around him to inquire what the matter was. When they looked inside the carriage, they saw no prince but a monster with a white beard on its chin and two horns on its head. They were panic stricken. The whole cortege came to a halt to wait for the fruit seller.
After a short while, when the little prince caught up with them, they stopped him and asked, "What kind of fruit did you sell our master?"
"Fruit that grows on trees."
"But why does he have a beard on his face and horns on his head after eating your fruit?"
The little prince saw the strange-looking creature in the carriage and felt inwardly delighted, but he concealed his feeling and calmly said in reply, "I've been eating them every day. Why has nothing happened to me?" There was nothing the courtiers could say to this.
How could the prince marry the princess now that he looked like a monster? They put their heads together to find a way out. "We'd better turn back," one of them suggested. "They'll definitely drive us out if we go." But the prince would rather die than go back.
Finally, his father's favorite courtier came up with an idea. "We must find a handsome young man and disguise him as the prince. If the princess falls for it and we manage to get her back to our kingdom, she'll be at our mercy." This plan was generally acclaimed and they began to look around for a likely candidate. In the end they agreed that the fruit-seller was the most handsome young man present, and they asked him to do the job.
Pretending to be coy, he said, "This is your affair. See to it yourself. I have my own business to attend to." The courtiers begged him again and again, offering him five golden ingots as reward.
"That's not enough," said the little prince.
"Seven then," said the courtiers. They told him to sit upright in the carriage, like a real prince. Their own master, the prince with the horns, was told to ride on a horse. They bound his head in a piece of cloth, put a veil over his face and advised him that once they were in the capital, he should hide indoors and not on any account let anyone see him. When everything was satisfactorily arranged, the cortege continued on its way. They arrived to find the king waiting for them outside the town gates. Seeing so handsome a son-in-law and so many betrothal gifts, the king was overjoyed. At the same time, he was very concerned that the marriage might be ruined if his daughter's story became known, so preparations for a four-day wedding banquet got under way immediately. The old were entertained outside while the young were asked to stay inside to wait on the prince and princess. The king's whole purpose was to keep the guests so busy that they would have no time to learn his shameful secret.
Throughout the first three days of the wedding, the princess did nothing but weep and kept her face veiled. She wouldn't even raise her head to look at the bridegroom for her heart was set on another -- the little prince, the only man she truly loved. When the fourth day came, the king was still worried and sent a trusted old woman to spy on the bridegroom and see whether he really loved the princess. That evening, at the banquet in the palace, the little prince sat beside the princess.
When no one was looking, he told her in a whisper, "It's me! I've come back!"
The princess immediately put aside her veil and glanced at him. "Heavens!" she thought to herself. "Is this a dream? What could be in father's mind to bring him back to me like this?"
Afraid that the princess might reveal his secret, the little prince whispered the whole story to her, telling her to act as if she knew nothing. While they were dancing together, they discussed how to escape. The little prince's idea was that after the wedding, when she was supposed to leave with him, she should ask her father for the wooden horse. She must tell him that she would never leave without it. "No matter how he threatens you, don't be afraid."
The old woman came to the king and reported, "The young couple are very fond of one another, Your Majesty. They have been dancing and singing together the whole evening." This pleased the king greatly.
The next day many distinguished guests gathered in front of the palace, waiting to see the princess off. The prince's men were also ready with their horses. But inside the palace the princess was still clinging onto her father and pestering him with her request for the wooden horse In a rage the king called in the hangman to threaten her with death, but the princess was not in the least afraid, saying that if she couldn't have the wooden horse, she would die.
The king was at his wits' end. When the distinguished guests, tired of waiting, came in to ask the reason for the delay, the king said to them, "The naughty thing! She is behaving just like a child. She has a wooden horse which she desperately wants to take with her."
Hearing this, the guests burst out laughing. "A toy! Why not let her take it with her?" The king felt too embarrassed to say anything. He took out the wooden horse and gave it to her and amid much pomp and ceremony the cortege left the capital.
The journey took them several days. During this time their escort attended to them with great devotion, never giving them one minute to themselves, which made it impossible for them to escape. As they were approaching their destination, the young couple became desperate. At the last moment, the little prince thought of a new ruse. He told the princess, "When we arrive at the palace gates, you must say that you will get out of the carriage on one condition only: they are to bring you seven plates piled high with gold. You must then scatter the gold on the ground for the people to pick up."
The princess followed his instructions carefully. As soon as she scattered the gold about, people stampeded to get it. Seizing this opportunity, the little prince helped the princess onto the wooden horse, loosened one screw, and in the twinkling of an eye they were up in the air. There was no mishap on their journey, and they landed safe and sound in the prince's home.
The king, the little prince's father, had been missing his lost son day and night. He blamed his disappearance on the carpenter and was about to put this unfortunate man to death. The carpenter had been nailed to the end of a bridge for three days and nights. The little prince, when he returned, saw the king and said to him, "Father, the carpenter's wooden horse has been of great service. Without it I would not have been able to see so many countries, find such a beautiful bride and come back to you again safe and sound. You should give the carpenter a handsome reward." The king listened with great shame and felt compelled to tell his son what he had done to the carpenter. He sent his men to the bridge at once. They found the carpenter still alive, untied him and brought him back to the palace.
The little prince personally took good care of the carpenter until his wounds were healed. Then he gave him a large sum of money to enable him to perfect his craft. The little prince and the princess held a second wedding, and in the course of time the prince succeeded to the throne.
Long, long ago there was a young couple who lived in a small thatched hut in a gully. They were so poor that every day they had to cut two bundles of firewood and carry them to market on their backs.
One day, the young couple came back from the mountain carrying the firewood. They put one bundle in the courtyard and planned to sell it at the market the next day to buy rice. The other bundle they kept in the kitchen for their own use. When they woke up the following morning, the bundle in the courtyard had mysteriously disappeared. There was nothing to do but to sell the bundle which they had kept for themselves.
That same day, they cut another two bundles of firewood as usual. They put one bundle in the courtyard for market and kept the other bundle for their own use. But the following morning, the bundle in the courtyard had vanished again. The same thing happened on the third and fourth day as well, and the husband began to think there was something strange going on.
On the fifth day, he made a hollow in the bundle of firewood in the courtyard and hid himself inside it. From the outside it looked just the same as before. At midnight an enormous rope descended from the sky, attached itself to the bundle and lifted it up into the sky, with the woodcutter still inside it.
On his arrival in heaven, he saw a kindly looking, white-haired old man coming in his direction. The old man untied the bundle and when he found the man inside it, he asked, "Other people only cut one bundle of firewood a day. Why do you cut two?"
The woodcutter made a bow and replied, "We are penniless. That's why my wife and I cut two bundles of firewood a day. One bundle is for our own use and the other we carry to the market. With it we can buy rice to make porridge."
The old man chuckled and said to the woodcutter in a warmhearted tone of voice, "I've known for a long time that you are a decent couple and lead a frugal and hardworking life. I shall give you a piece of treasure. Take it back with you and it will provide you with your livelihood."
As soon as he had finished speaking, there came seven fairies who led the young man into a magnificent palace. Its golden eaves and gleaming roof tiles shone so brightly that the moment he entered, he could no longer open his eyes. Inside the palace there were many kinds of rare objects on display that he had never seen before. Moneybags of all shapes and sizes hung in one room. The fairies asked him, "Which one do you like best? Choose whichever you please, and take it home."
The woodcutter was beside himself with joy, "I'd like that moneybag, the one full of precious things. Give me that round, bulging one." He chose the biggest one and took it down.
Just at this moment, the white-haired old man came in and, with a stern expression on his face, said to the young man, "You cannot take that one. I'll give you an empty one. Every day you can take one tael of silver out of it, and no more." The woodcutter reluctantly agreed. He took the empty moneybag and, clinging onto the enormous rope, he was lowered to the ground.
Once home, he gave the moneybag to his wife and told her the whole story. She was most excited. In the daytime they went as usual to cut firewood. But from then on, whenever they returned home after dark, they would close the door and open the moneybag. Instantly, a lump of silver would roll jingling out. When they weighed it on the palm of their hand, they found it to be exactly one tael. Every day one tael of silver and no more came rolling out of the bag. The wife saved them up one by one.
Time went slowly by. One day the husband suggested, "Let's buy an ox."
The wife didn't agree. A few days later, the husband suggested again, "How about buying a few acres of land?"
His wife didn't agree with that either. A few more days elapsed, and the wife herself proposed, "Let's build a little thatched cottage."
The husband was itching to spend all the money they had saved and said, "Since we have so much money in hand, why don't we build a big brick house?"
The wife could not dissuade her husband and reluctantly went along with his idea.
The husband spent the money on bricks, tiles and timber and on hiring carpenters and masons. From that time on, neither of them went into the mountain to cut firewood any more. The day came when their pile of silver was almost exhausted, but the new house was still unfinished. It had long been in the back of the husband's mind to ask the moneybag to produce more silver. So without his wife's knowledge, he opened the bag for a second time that day. Instantly, another lump of snow-white silver rolled jingling out of the bag onto the ground. He opened it a third time and received a third lump.
He thought to himself, "If I go on like this, I can get the house finished in no time!" He quite forgot the old man's warning. But when he opened the bag for the fourth time, it was absolutely empty. This time not a scrap of silver came out of it. It was just an old cloth bag. When he turned to look at his unfinished brick house, that was gone as well. There before him was his old thatched hut.
The woodcutter felt very sad. His wife came over and consoled him, "We can't depend on the magic moneybag from heaven. Let's go back to the mountain to cut firewood as we did before. That's a more dependable way of earning a living."
From that day on, the young couple once again went up to the mountain to cut firewood and led their old, hardworking life.
Once upon a time there lived in the mountains a woman and her daughter. The daughter liked to dress in red. Hence her name, Little Red.
One day they were plowing and sowing in the fields. All of a sudden, a gale blew up and in the sky there appeared an evil dragon who stretched down his claws, caught Little Red in a tight grip and flew off with her towards the west. Her mother vaguely heard daughter's words carried on the wind:
Oh mother, oh mother, as dear as can be!
My brother, my brother will rescue me!
Wiping away her tears, her mother gazed into the sky and said, "But I only have a daughter. Who can this brother be?"
She staggered home and had got halfway there when her white hair was caught up in the branches of a bayberry tree growing by the roadside. While she was disentangling her hair, she spotted a red, red berry dangling from a twig. She picked it and swallowed it without thinking.
When she arrived home, the woman gave birth to a boy with a round head and red cheeks. She named the boy Little Bayberry.
Bayberry grew up very quickly and in a few days he was a young lad of fourteen or fifteen.
His mother wanted to ask Bayberry to rescue his sister but couldn't bring herself to inflict such a dangerous task on him. All she could do was weep to herself in secret.
One day a crow alighted on the eaves of her house and cried:
Your sister's suffering out there, out there!
She's weeping in the evil dragon's lair!
Bloodstains on her back,
She's digging rocks with hands so bare!
Upon hearing this, Bayberry asked his mother, "Do I have a sister?"
Tears streaming down her cheeks, his mother replied, "Yes, my boy, you do. Because she loved to dress in red, she was called Little Red. That evil dragon who has killed so many people came and took her away."
Bayberry picked up a big stick and said, "I'm going to rescue Little Red and kill that evil dragon. Then he can't do any more harm!"
His mother leaned against the doorframe and through misty eyes watched her son march away.
Bayberry walked for miles and miles. On a mountain road he saw ahead of him, blocking the way, a large rock. It was pointed and rubbed smooth by all the travelers who had had to climb it. One wrong step would mean a nasty fall.
Bayberry said, "This is my first obstacle! If I don't remove it now, it will be the undoing of many more people." He thrust his stick under the rock and heaved with all his might. There was a great "crack!" and the stick broke in two. Then he put both his hands under the rock and tried to shift it with all the strength. The rock rolled down into the valley.
Just at that moment, a shining golden reed pipe appeared in the pit where the rock had been. Bayberry picked it up and blew on it. It gave out a resonant sound.
Suddenly, all the earthworms, frogs and lizards by the roadside began to dance. The quicker the tune the faster the creatures danced. As soon as the music stopped, they ceased dancing. Bayberry had an idea: "Ah! Now I can deal with the evil dragon."
He strode away, the golden reed pipe in hand. He climbed a huge rocky mountain and saw a ferocious-looking dragon coiled at the entrance to a cave. Piles of human bones lay all around him. He also saw a girl in red chiseling away at the cave. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. The evil dragon whipped the girl on the back with his tail and shouted vilely at her:
Most ungrateful loathsome Mistress Red!
Since with me you would not wed,
Day by day,
Rock by rock,
Hew me out a handsome cave,
Or I'll send you to your grave!
Bayberry realized that the girl was none other than his sister. He shouted:
Wicked monster! Evil fiend!
To torment my sister so!
Till your wretched life shall end
On this pipe I'll blow and blow!
Bayberry began to blow on his golden reed pipe. The music set the evil dragon dancing despite himself. Little Red downed her chisel and emerged from the cave to watch.
Bayberry blew on the pipe. The evil dragon continued to dance, squirming and writhing. The quicker the tune, the faster the evil dragon moved.
Little Red came over and wanted to speak to her brother. With a gesture of his hand, Bayberry showed her that he could not stop playing the pipe. If he did, the evil dragon would eat them both up.
Bayberry kept blowing for all he was worth, and the evil dragon stretched his long waist and kept writhing around in time to the music.
Fire came from his eyes, steam from his nostrils, and panting breath from his mouth. The evil dragon pleaded:
Ho-ho-ho! Brother you're the stronger!
Blow no more! Torture me no longer!
I'll send her home,
If you leave me alone!
Bayberry had no intention of stopping. As he blew, he walked towards a big pond. The evil dragon followed him to the bank of the pond, squirming and dancing all the way. With a great splash the evil dragon fell into the pond and the water rose several feet. The evil dragon was utterly exhausted. Fire came from his eyes, steam from his nostrils and panting breath from his mouth. He entreated again in a hoarse voice:
Ho-ho-ho! Brother you're the stronger!
Let me alone and I'll stay in this pond
And torture folk no longer!
Bayberry replied:
Wicked fiend!
This is my bargain:
Stay at the bottom of this pond,
And never do harm again.
The evil dragon kept nodding his head. As soon as the golden reed pipe stopped blowing, he sank to the bottom of the pond.
Bayberry took hold of his sister's hand and walked happily away.
Not long after they set off, they heard the sound of water splashing in the pond. They looked over their shoulders and saw the evil dragon emerge from the water pond. He raised his head and flew in their direction, baring his fangs and clawing the air.
Little Red cried:
Go deep when digging a well;
Pull up the roots when hoeing a field.
While that dragon is still alive
To kindly ways he'll never yield.
Bayberry rushed back to the pond and began to blow on his pipe once more. The evil dragon fell back into the pond and began to dance again, squirming and writhing in the water.
Bayberry stood on the bank for seven days and nights, a fast tune blowing on his pipe. Finally, the evil dragon could move no longer and floated on the surface of the water. His days had come to an end.
Sister and brother joyfully returned home, dragging the body of the evil dragon along behind them. When their mother saw her two children coming home, her face lit up with happiness.
They peeled the dragon's skin to make a house, took out the dragon's bones to serve as pillars and beams and cut off the dragon's horn to make plowshares. With the dragon's horn they plowed the fields quickly and had no need of oxen. In this way they plowed many fields, sowed much grain and enjoyed a life of plenty.
A little over two hundred years before our era, the first emperor of the Chin dynasty ascended the throne under the name of Shih Huang. This emperor was very cruel towards his subjects, forcing people from every part of the country to come and build the Great Wall to protect his empire. Work never stopped, day or night, with the people carrying heavy loads of earth and bricks under the overseers' whips, lashes, and curses. They received very little food; the clothes they wore were threadbare. So it was scarcely to be wondered at that large numbers of them died every day.
There was a young man, named Wan Hsi-liang, among those who had been pressed into the service of building Emperor Shih Huang's Great Wall. This Wan Hsi-liang had a beautiful and virtuous wife, whose name was Meng Chiang-nu. For a long, long time after her husband was forced to leave her, Meng Chiang-nu had no news of him, and it saddened her to think what he must be suffering, toiling for the accursed emperor. Her hatred of the wicked ruler grew apace with her longing for the husband he had torn from her side. One spring, when the flowers were in bloom and the trees budding, when the grass was a lush green, and the swallows were flying in pairs in the sky, her sorrow seemed to deepen as she walked in the fields, so she sang:
In March the peach is blossom-dressed;
Swallows, mating, build their nest.
Two by two they gaily fly....
Left all alone, how sad am I!
But even when autumn came round, there still was no news about Wan Hsi-liang. It was rumored that the Great Wall was in building somewhere way up north where it was so cold that one would hardly dare stick one's hands out of one's sleeves. When Meng Chiang-nu heard this, she hurriedly made cotton-padded clothes and shoes for her husband. But who should take these to him when it was such a long way to the Great Wall? Pondering the matter over and over, she finally decided she would take the clothes and shoes to Wan Hsi-liang herself.
It was rather cold when she started out. The leaves had fallen from the trees and, as the harvest had been gathered in, the fields were empty and forlornly dismal. It was very lonely for Meng Chiang-nu to walk all by herself, especially since she had never been away from home in her life, and did not know the way and had to ask for directions every now and then.
One evening she failed to reach a town she was going to, so she put up for the night in a little temple in a grove beside the road. Having walked the whole day, she was very tired and fell asleep as soon as she lay down on a stone table. She dreamed her husband was coming towards her, and a feeling of great happiness enveloped her. But then he told her that he had died, and she cried bitterly. When she woke up in the morning, she was overwhelmed by doubts and sadness as she remembered this dream. With curses on the emperor who had torn so many families asunder, Meng Chiang-nu continued on her way.
One day, she came to a small inn by the side of the hilly road. The inn was kept by an old woman who, when she saw Meng Chiang-nu's hot face and dusty clothes, asked where she was going. When Meng Chiang-nu told her, she was deeply moved.
"Aya!" she sighed, "the Great Wall is still far away from here, there are mountains and rivers to cross before you. How can a weak young woman like yourself get there?" But Meng Chiang-nu told the old woman she was determined to get the clothes and shoes to her husband, no matter what the difficulty. The old woman was as much touched by the younger one's willpower as she was concerned about her safety. The next day she accompanied Meng Chiang-nu over a distance to show her sympathy.
And so, Meng Chiang-nu walked on and on and on till, one day, she came to a deep valley between the mountains. The sky was overcast with gray clouds, a strong wind was blowing that chilled the air. She walked quite a long time through the valley without, however, finding a single house. All she could see were weeds, brambles and rocks. It was getting so dark that she could no longer see the road. At the foot of the mountains there was a river, running with water of a murky color. Where should she go? Being at her wit's end, she decided to spend the night among some bushes. As she had not eaten anything for the whole day, she shivered all the more violently in the cold. Thinking of how her husband must be suffering in this icy cold weather, her heart contracted with a pain as sharp as a knife. When Meng Chiang-nu opened her eyes the next morning, she found to her amazement the whole valley and her own body covered with a blanket of snow. How was she to continue her travel?
While she was still quite at a loss as to what to do, a crow suddenly alighted before her. It cawed twice and flew on a short distance, then sat down again in front of her and cawed again twice. Meng Chiang-nu decided that the bird was inviting her to follow its direction and so she resumed her travel, a little cheered because of the company of this living thing, and she began to sing as she walked along:
Thick and fast swirl round the winter snows:
I, Meng Chiang-nu, trudge, bearing winter clothes,
A starveling crow, alas, my only guide,
The Great Wall far, and I far from his side!
Thus she walked past mountain ranges, crossing big rivers as well as small streams.
And thus many a dreary day had passed before she at last reached the Great Wall. How excited she was when she caught sight of it, meandering like a huge serpent over the mountains before her. The wind was piercingly cold and the bare mountains were covered with dry grass only, without a single tree anywhere. Clusters of people were huddling against the Great Wall; these were the people who had been driven here to build it.
Meng Chiang-nu walked along the Great Wall, trying to find her husband among those who were toiling here. She asked after her husband, but nobody knew anything about him, so she had to go on and on inquiring.... She saw what sallow faces the toilers had, their cheekbones protruding through the skin, and she saw many dead lying about, without anybody paying any attention. Her anguish over her husband's unknown fate increased, so that she shed many bitter tears as she continued her search.
At last she learned the sad truth. Her husband had died long ago because of the unbearably hard toil, and his body had been put underground where he fell, under the Great Wall. Hearing this tragic news, Meng Chiang-nu fell into a swoon. Some of the builders tried to revive her, but it was a long while before she regained consciousness. When she did, she burst into a flood of tears, for several days on end, so that many of the toilers wept with her. So bitter was her lament that, suddenly, a length of over two hundred miles of the Great Wall came crumbling down, while a violent storm made the sand and bricks whirl about in the air.
"It was Meng Chiang-nu who, by her tears, caused the Great Wall to crumble!" the people along the edifice told one another with amazement, at the same time filled with hatred of the cruel emperor, who caused nothing but misery to his subjects.
When the emperor heard how Meng Chiang-nu had brought part of his Great Wall down, he immediately went to see for himself what sort of person she was. He found that she was as beautiful as a fairy, so he asked her to become his concubine. Meng Chiang-nu who hated him so deeply for his cruel ways would, of course, not consent to this. But she felt a ruse would serve her purpose better than frankness, so she answered amiably: "Yes, I will, if you do three things for me." The emperor then asked what these three things were and Meng Chiang-nu said: "The first is that you bury my husband in a golden coffin with a silver lid on it; the second is that all your ministers and generals go into mourning for my husband and attend his funeral; the third is that you attend his funeral yourself, wearing deep mourning as his son would do." Being so taken with her beauty, the emperor consented to her requests at once. Everything was, therefore, arranged accordingly. In funeral procession, Emperor Shih Huang walked closely behind the coffin, while a cortege of all his courtiers and generals followed him. The emperor anticipated happily the enjoyment the beautiful, new concubine would give him.
But Meng Chiang-nu, when she saw her husband properly buried, kowtowed before his tomb in homage to the deceased, crying bitterly for a long time. Then, all of a sudden, she jumped into the river that flowed close by the tomb. The emperor was infuriated at being thwarted in his desires. He ordered his attendants to pull her out of the water again. But before they could seize her, Meng Chiang-nu had turned into a beautiful, silvery fish and swam gracefully out of sight, deep down into the green-blue water.
Long, long ago there lived in the Land of the Khans a poor Alad [a serf or a herdsman in the days of feudalism]. His wife bore three children, but unfortunately they all died. No further children were born to the couple and they lived a solitary and wretched life.
Then unexpectedly one winter's day the Alad's wife gave birth to a boy. The couple were overjoyed, but, they began to wonder how they were going to raise their child. Except for a cow and two mountain goats they had nothing of any value. What were they to do?
Though distressed they nevertheless went outside their tent to milk the cow for the baby.
The child grew not by the day but by the hour. Before evening he had grown taller and sturdier than a man. Husband and wife were both astonished and delighted. They named their boy Ku-nan, which means Ancient South.
On the very first day Ku-nan ate up a whole goat. On the next day he ate up the other one. The old couple were filled with dismay. One more day, they thought, and even the cow will be done for! And then what will we have to live on?
On the third day Ku-nan said to his mother, "Ah-Ma, we are so poor and we have only a cow left. Let me go and find some work to do. I'm afraid I'll fall ill if I stay at home any longer."
She looked at her son's tall and robust figure and, taking his big hand in her, said in a tearful voice, "My son, what work can you do? Hai! You may perhaps go to the Khan. He may have some work for you." Ku-nan pondered for a while, then agreed.
After taking leave of his parents, he fared forth on an empty stomach. Half way he met with a hungry wolf. As soon as it saw him it jumped on him, but Ku-nan immediately tackled it and killed it. He then skinned it and, making himself a bonfire, roasted the meat and ate it. Having done so, he continued on his way and at dusk reached the Khan's yurt.
The sly old Khan thought of testing Ku-nan's strength. He had a whole cow roasted and invited the lad to eat it. Ku-nan not only ate up all the meat, but gnawed the bones clean, too. The Khan then kept him in his yurt as his personal attendant and bodyguard.
Ku-nan often went with the Khan deep into the forest to hunt, and every time they came home with a full bag. One day, when the two of them, together with some of the Khan's servants, went hunting in the deep reaches of the forest, a huge tiger suddenly leaped out upon them. The Khan was so frightened he broke into a cold sweat. Without a thought for Ku-nan's safety he whipped his horse into a gallop and tore off down the mountain. The Khan's servants fled helter-skelter, covering their heads with their hands. But Ku-nan did not stir. As the tiger sprang upon him he calmly dodged to one side, grabbed one of its hind legs, and swung the beast against a big tree. There was a crash, and the tree leaves fluttered to the ground. The tiger lay motionless on the ground with its stomach ripped open. Ku-nan put the carcass on his back and strode off after the Khan.
When the Khan reached his yurt, he was still in such a state of fright he could not dismount from his horse. Luckily his servants, who had taken to their heels when the tiger appeared, came to his aid and lifted him off his horse. At this moment Ku-nan arrived. When the Khan saw the tiger on Ku-nan's back he panicked. He rushed into his yurt and barred the door. "Hurry! All of you," he bawled. "Defend the door! Don't let the tiger in!" Later when he heard it was a dead tiger Ku-nan had brought, he mustered his courage and came out of his hiding place. Foaming with rage he cursed Ku-nan, using all the foul words he knew, and took the tiger's skin into his yurt.
Once the Khan had the tiger's skin as a mattress, he decided he wanted a cloak made of the Tiger King's skin. Thus he commanded Ku-nan to catch the Tiger King within three days. If he were to fail in his mission the Khan would have him executed. Ku-nan felt very dejected. Where was he to find the Tiger King? It was said that the Tiger King lived in a remote cave in the Northern Mountains, and that there were lots of tigers there in the vicinity. But no one had even been known to reach the place.
The skies grew dark, and Ku-nan returned home feeling very unhappy. He told his parents of what had happened. The old couple were in a quandary. If they were to prevent him from going, they were afraid the Khan would really put their son to death. But if they were to let him go, who could guarantee his safety?
Husband and wife sat facing each other and wept. They made such a to-do that Ku-nan found it hard to come to any decision. Suddenly an old Alad came into their shabby little cottage.
"My lad," he addressed Ku-nan, "don't be downcast. The Tiger King is afraid of a brave man. As long as you keep your native land and your dear ones in mind, you'll be able to overcome any hardship. Go, my lad. I'll give you a dappled pony to ride on. Good luck to you!" The old Alad lightly kissed Ku-nan on his forehead and disappeared. When Ku-nan went outside he saw a dappled pony neighing in his direction.
The skies gradually grew light, and Ku-nan bade his parents goodbye. Taking his bow, arrow-bag and dagger, he mounted his charge and set off on his mission. At first the pony trotted along at a normal pace, but later it broke into a canter, and then a gallop. Faster and faster it went, so fast that Ku-nan could only see the yurts along the road in a blur. After a while the beast slackened its speed. Just then Ku-nan saw near a yurt a wolf just about to attack a little girl. In the nick of time he slipped an arrow into his bow, and let fly. The wolf instantly fell dead on the ground with the arrow in its head.
An old woman ran out from the yurt. When she realized that Ku-nan had saved her grand-daughter's life, she invited him in for a bowl of milk-tea. Before his departure she gave him a sheep-bone and said, "Take it, lad, it'll be of some use to you in the future."
With her gift in hand, Ku-nan vaulted upon his pony and continued his way northwards. As he trotted along the road he found his way blocked by a broad river. Suddenly the water rose and formed great billows. A huge turtle emerged and swam to the river bank. "My lad," it croaked, "you had better turn back. You'll never get across this river."
"Oh, surely," replied Ku-nan. "All difficulties can be overcome."
"Oh, well then, brave lad," the turtle said, "please help me. My left eye aches so badly, I want to have it taken out and replaced with a new one. Please, help me, take it out for me."
"All right, I'll help you."
As soon as Ku-nan looked in his hands. The eye had turned into a pearl! A glowing, flawless precious pearl. After looking at it Ku-nan's eye-sight became very sharp, he could even see a group of yurts in the far distance. Ku-nan then remounted his pony. As though understanding its master's intention, the beast plunged into the water. What a miracle! No sooner had the water touched the precious pearl than it divided to form a transparent wall on either side, leaving a dry path through the center. Ku-nan rode across to the opposite bank of the river without further difficulty. The water then flowed its usual course as if nothing had ever happened.
Ku-nan soon reached the yurts he had seen in the distance. An old shepherd was softly weeping there. He was a pitiful sight. Having dismounted from his pony, Ku-nan addressed him. "Grandpa, what makes you so sad?" he asked. "Please tell me, perhaps I can be of some help to you."
The old shepherd wiped his eyes and sighed. "Young man, even if I tell you, I'm afraid you won't be able to help me. Yesterday my only daughter was carried off by the Tiger King. I don't know whether she's alive or dead now...." The old man again broke into heart-rending sobs.
"Grandpa, don't lose heart," Ku-nan consoled him. "I'm sure your daughter isn't dead. I'm looking for that Tiger King. I'll go there and rescue her."
The old shepherd cheered up. He invited Ku-nan into his tent to have some tea. After his tea, Ku-nan thanked the old man and left.
Before dark Ku-nan arrived at the place where the Tiger King lived. From afar he could see a stone cave up on the mountain. At the entrance were more than ten tigers on guard. As Ku-nan neared the cave, he fished the sheep-bone out of his pocket and threw it to the tigers. He then entered and found the shepherd's daughter. She told him that the tiger King had been out since early morning, and that he had not yet returned, but probably would soon. She thought of hiding Ku-nan, but he refused, suggesting that he first rescue her and take her home. She agreed, and the two of them rode the dappled pony out of the cave. The tigers outside were still fighting over the bone. Ku-nan flourished his whip, and the pony dashed down the mountain like a whirlwind.
Suddenly a gust of wild wind blew from the north. Riding on a yellow cloud, an ogre with the head of a tiger and the body of a man, all covered with golden hair, came chasing down. Ku-nan turned round and let fly an arrow, which pierced the ogre's left eye. The Tiger King roared furiously. He reached out a huge paw and yanked Ku-nan off his charge. Then with a single blow he drove him waist-deep into the ground. Ku-nan instantly wriggled out. With one stroke he smote the ogre neck-deep into the ground, and, without waiting for him to free himself, he swiftly unsheathed his dagger and thrust the blade deep into the ogre's pate. Ku-nan thus ended the Tiger King's life.
He pulled the carcass out of the ground and, dragging it by one leg, caught up with his pony. He and the girl then returned to her home. When the old shepherd saw that Ku-nan had rescued his daughter, he was very happy, and gave him her hand in marriage.
Ku-nan stayed the night in their yurt and, when day grew light, again set off with his wife on their pony. But just as they were preparing to leave they heard a howling wind approaching from the north. Ku-nan turned to look and saw ten or so tigers coming in hot pursuit. They were those he had left fighting over the sheep-bone the day before. Ku-nan hurriedly sent his wife into the yurt. He shot an arrow and killed the tiger in the lead. Then he unsheathed his dagger and strode forward to meet them.
A furious combat ensued. In one breath he slayed seven or eight of them, but the remaining three attacked him with even redoubled fierceness. Ku-nan felt himself utterly exhausted. Just as he was on the point of collapse, the old shepherd, at the head of about ten young lads, rushed to the rescue. They brought with them poles for breaking in horses. They helped Ku-nan catch the three tigers and thus relieved him from danger. He thanked them for their help and gave them all the tigers he had slain. Taking his wife he remounted his pony and proceeded home.
When the Khan saw that Ku-nan had slain the Tiger King and had brought home a beautiful wife besides, he felt very happy and at the same time envious. He ordered Ku-nan's wife to make him a cloak out of the Tiger King's skin, and not to miss a single hair of the pelt. Ku-nan's wife did as the Khan bade her and let her husband take the cloak to him.
When the Khan saw the cloak he was extremely pleased. He thought of showing himself off in his domain in all his majesty. He wanted everybody to know that he, the Khan, possessed a precious cloak made of the Tiger King's skin.
A platform was erected in front of the Khan's yurt. He invited the officials from all over the land of the Khans to eat and drink and carouse. A little way across stood a great multitude of people who had come from every corner of the land to see the Khan's Tiger King cloak.
After a while amidst the blare of music the Khan ambled across the platform with a self-satisfied air. He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, and a well-dressed servant climbed up, bearing a yellow bundle. He opened it up and took out the glistening golden colored cloak made of the Tiger King's skin. He paraded it for everyone to see, then helped the Khan to put it on. No sooner had the Khan put on the cloak than he turned into a fierce motley-colored tiger. It made a deafening roar and bounded off the platform and attacked the throng, biting and wounding many people. The officials were so scared they leaped onto their horses and made off for all they were worth.
At that moment Ku-nan fortunately arrived on the scene. When he saw a tiger chasing people and mauling them, he was horrified. He thought of shooting the beast with his arrow, but unluckily he had left his arrow-bag at home; even the dagger was not at his girdle. As he was fumbling helplessly, the tiger suddenly charged in his direction. He stood his ground and waited till the beast had come within reach. Then with the swiftness of an eagle he grabbed its tail, jerked it into the air and in a single breath smote it ten times upon the ground. The tiger lay bruised, maimed and bleeding and soon died. Because the beast was formerly the Khan, people went to bury it.
From then on Ku-nan went out hunting every day, riding his dapple pony, and on his return he would share his kill with poor Alads around the neighborhood. Besides, he often cured the poor of their eye diseases with his precious pearl: as soon as old people looked at it, their dim sight would become clear; as soon as the blind rolled it round the orbit of their eyes, they would be able to see. Thanks to his help the poor Alads began to sing their joyful songs again and their lives became very pleasant.
Revised March 18, 2002.
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