Kua Hai City stands on a plain in northern China. The plain is called Wa
Tien, and it is very smooth and fertile, giving many large melons. . . .
Life there is good. The plain is likewise extremely low. Any reliable
geography will tell you that Kua Hai is below sea level. And that, I
know, is a fact, for I, lazily seated in my garden, have often gazed at
sailing ships, large-eyed—wide-staring-eyed junks as they fetched into
the Bay of The Sharp-Horned Moon, and to view them I had to raise my
eyes. It is very true. I had to look up, as one looks up to behold the
sky-hung eagles of Lo Fan.
I had as often wondered if the sea ever broke through its restraining
walls and flooded Kua Hai. A storm coming down from the northeast would
most likely thrust billows to overtop the wall. So I said to my
gardener, Wu Chang: “Wu Chang, did fishes ever swim up the Street of A
Thousand Singing Dragons? Did the sea ever come into Kua Hai?” Wu Chang
paused in his scratching among the _hung lo po_ (the radishes). Since
thinking it over, I am inclined to believe that he welcomed an
opportunity to change from the working of his fingers to the working of
his tongue. “Once, and once only, Honorable One, has the sea invaded Kua
Hai. But it can never do so again. Chieh Chung was fooled once, but he
was far too clever to be fooled twice. He buried the bottle, perhaps in
this very garden, for who knows? He buried it so deep that no ordinary
digging shall discover it. And so, the sea may look over the walls of
Kua Hai, but it may not enter.”
“Indeed?” said I. “And pray, who _was_ this Chieh Chung? And what was in
the bottle?”
Such astounding ignorance gained me a look of compassion from old Wu
Chang. “The Honorable One is surely jesting. He, of course, knows that
Chieh Chung was the first King of Wa Tien.”
“Oh, to be sure,” I interrupted. “It was Chieh Chung who
invented—hum—er radishes.” That was a guess, and a miss.
Wu Chang corrected me. “Not radishes, but writing. A mistaken thing to
do, in my opinion. But beyond doubt he did a great service when he
bottled the water demons. Ho. Ho. Ho. He bottled the demons as if they
were melon pickles. Ho. Ho. Ho.”
“Sit here in the shade, Wu Chang,” said I. “So Chieh Chung pickled the
water demons—and then what?”
“Not pickled, Honorable One, bottled. Chieh Chung bottled the demons.
Ho. Ho. Ho. . . . You must understand that in those days the plain
hereabouts was much lower than it is now. It had not been built up. And
the sea was much higher in those days, for then there were no heavy
ships to weigh it down, and flatten it. The sea was very high
then-a-days, far too high for its breadth. On every side the land held
it back, and it was retarded and had no freedom of motion. So the Shen,
the demons of the sea, got them together and took thought. They said:
‘Our sea is far too small. We must have more room. We are mighty, are we
not? Then let us take some land and occupy it, so that our sea may
expand.’
“Accordingly, the water demons swam along the coast, seeking land to
conquer. They passed the shores of Fu Sang without stopping, for that
region is high and mountainous. They passed the region of San Shen Shan,
for in that place lives the powerful land demon named Hu Kung. The water
demons were in no great haste to gain Hu Kung’s hatred. They passed
without a second glance. But when the Shen swam up to Kua Hai, it was to
rejoice. The demons looked over the wall; they smiled down upon Kua Hai
and said, ‘This land we shall take for our beloved sea. It is low, and
suited to our purpose. Rightfully it is ours. Yes, we shall take Kua
Hai, and all the vast plain hereabout.’ But the ocean demons were
possessed of decency. They did not dash over the walls, calling on their
sea to follow, and so drown all the people of Kua Hai. Demons though
they be, the Shen that time had mercy in their hearts. While the night
dew lay upon the fields of Wa Tien, those demons, to the number of
seven, made their way into Kua Hai. There they waited in the garden of
the palace.
“When King Chieh Chung, who ruled over Wa Tien, took him to the garden
for an early morning stroll, he discovered the demons waiting. He knew
at once they were no ordinary men. Not once did they _kou tou_ (knock
their heads on the ground) as men should do. Nor did they look like the
men of Wa Tien. Their mouths were wide mouths, like those of codfishes.
Their bodies were covered with iridescent scales. Nevertheless, Chieh
Chung permitted the Shen to approach. ‘What manner of men are you?’
asked the King. ‘And what is your pleasure?’
“‘We are the Shen, demons of the sea,’ answered the seven. ‘We are Shen
of the ocean, and we come to claim our own.’ ‘And what is that?’ asked
the King, smiling tolerantly upon them, though in truth he felt more
like weeping, for he knew what would be the answer.
[Illustration: We are the Shen, demons of the sea.]
“‘We have come to possess ourselves of the city and all the low plain
that surrounds it. It is our right, and our might—we mean to have it.’
Then Chieh Chung’s heart dropped down to a level with his sandals. His
heart was weighted as if with millstones, as if weighted with Mount Tai.
Long he stroked his beard, pondering, grieving, praying. And the water
demons danced in the dew. Jubilant were they, flinging their toes high,
spattering dewdrops upon the palace roof, and singing the terrible song
of the ocean.
“Finally the King answered. ‘Shen,’ said he, ‘what time do you grant me?
Kua Hai is a large city. In it are half a million souls. It will be
moons and moons before I can count my people safely upon the Mountain of
The Yellow Ox.’ One of the demons was shaking a _pai shu_ (shaking a
cypress tree) so that its dew fell upon him and upon his companions, for
already the sun was up and they were beginning to feel the day and its
dryness. ‘What time?’ said the Shen, taking his answer from the _pai
shu_. ‘We shall give you until this tree is in flower. Have all your
people gathered upon high ground when this _pai shu_ blossoms, for at
that time we shall lead the sea upon Wa Tien, and the sea shall stand
three _li_ deep above your palace. That is our answer. And now we must
go for the sun has lit his fire.’
“The Shen made a move as if to depart, but no sooner were they out of
the shadows than they halted abruptly, murmuring in displeasure. And
small wonder. The sun had dispelled the dew and there was no moisture
upon the land. A water Shen cannot exist where there is no moisture. In
that respect he is like the _yin yu_ and the _shih pan_ (fishes). So the
Shen turned to Chieh Chung and said, ‘Is there water here, O King, where
we may spend the day hours?’ ‘There is little,’ said Chieh Chung; ‘I
dare say too little for your purpose. But in such quantity as it is, you
are welcome.’ He pointed to a crystal bowl in which burgeoned a sacred
lily. There was water in the bowl, water surrounding the lily bulb. Too,
there were stones in the bowl—blue lapis lazuli, and green jade, and
yellow topaz (precious stones, as befitted a palace garden), for that is
the way sacred lilies are grown—in bowls filled with water and pretty
pebbles. ‘You are quite welcome to it,’ reiterated the King. The Shen
shook their heads half in despair. ‘It is too little,’ groaned they,
‘far too little.’ ‘But,’ said Chieh Chung, ‘you are demons—hence
magicians. Why do you not make yourselves smaller? Why not change
yourselves into red _hung pao shi_h and recline in the bowl amid the
lily roots? I am sure you would make handsome rubies. Beyond a doubt, my
courtiers would say “Ah” and “How lovely” and admire you greatly when
they saw you. Of a certainty, you would make resplendent gems, dazzling
and superb.’ ‘Well,’ agreed the Shen, somewhat dubiously, ‘we shall try
it. If you have no more water it is the only thing we _can_ do.’ And so,
in a twinkling the Shen were gone, and seven beautiful rubies appeared
in the crystal bowl.
“‘How lovely,’ said Chieh Chung—and deliberately winked at the cypress
tree, first with one eye and then with the other. He went to a cabinet
that stood in his chamber, and from the cabinet took a bottle fashioned
out of _fei yu_ (a cloudy jade). And the bottle had a wide mouth. Into
it Chieh Chung poured water. Returning to the lily bowl, he quickly took
therefrom the seven red _hung pao shih_ and dropped them into the jade
bottle—closing the mouth securely.
“‘Now,’ exulted the King, ‘my city is saved. My people may walk in
security and without fear. The seven water demons are in my keeping, and
please Heaven may they never escape my hand.’ And in his joy, King Chieh
Chung ordered that ten thousand catties of rice be given to the poor.
“Weeks lengthened into months. Lengthened the months to years. Still
languished the water demons in the clouded jade bottle. Still broke the
sea on Kua Hai’s walls—but did not enter. Chieh Chung added to his
kingdom and ruled with beneficence. His name was heralded throughout the
length of the world. Not by the spear, but by wisdom he added to his
dominions. Peoples of far-distant regions came seeking to place
themselves under the rule of Chieh Chung—wisest and best.
“At length came ambassadors from Wei Chou, yes, even from distant Kou
Pei, offering to give their allegiance to Chieh Chung. Ah, but that was
a great day, a day of all proud days. The ambassadors were a hundred for
number, haughty mandarins all. There was a great stir about the palace,
you may well believe, retainers rushing hither and thither to provide
food and drink and entertainment for the foreign great men.
“A foolish servant, ransacking cupboard and closet for what victuals and
drink he could find, came upon the dusty jade bottle that stood in Chieh
Chung’s cabinet. ‘Ah,’ said the servant, trying to peer through the
cloudy jade. ‘Beyond a doubt, here is something of rare excellence. This
will do for the highest of the mandarins, for the red-button mandarins
with peacock feathers. It rattles—rock candy in it.’ And the foolish
one removed the stopper. A thousand pities he was not stricken dead
before the seal was broken.
“Chieh Chung came into the chamber and saw what had happened. For a
moment he was stunned. Then, ‘Let me have the bottle.’ The bottle was
empty, all save for a bit of water. ‘They are gone,’ said the King. ‘The
Shen have escaped. But even so, I may baffle them, for they promised
with binding oaths not to take my kingdom until the _pai shu_ blossoms.
And—in this region the cypress tree never blossoms—it _never_ comes
into flower.’ The King smiled in spite of himself.
“Meanwhile, the water demons, having escaped from the bottle, hastened
through the palace toward the garden. They were very angry—were those
demons, gnashing their teeth with a noise like that of waves lashing a
rock-guarded coast. They were determined on vengeance.
“The Wei Chou ambassadors were encamped in the palace garden. Their
servants had been washing garments, brilliant-hued garments such as the
wealthy and noble of that land wear. The garments had been hung on the
cypress tree to dry. And there the garments hung when the water demons
appeared. The tree was aflame with color. Instantly the Shen raised a
great shout. ‘Come billow. Come ocean.’ They shouted in triumph. ‘The
_pai shu_ blossoms (the cypress tree blooms)’—for they thought the
garments were flowers—‘and our promise is ended. Kua Hai is ours.’
“Fathoms deep, roaring, grinding, relentless, the sea swept over Kua
Hai, buried the city, buried the plain. The water demons raced before
it, calling it on. They who had been the people of Kua Hai rode upon
white-crested billows—without life—drowned. Out of all the vast
population perhaps a thousand escaped. And among those who escaped was
the King.
“Chieh Chung sat under a pine tree on the mountain, grief-stricken,
heartbroken, gazing upon what had been a city, and now was sparkling
sea. Hour after hour sat the King, grieving and thinking, meditating a
way to regain his country. Now and then the seven water demons appeared
before him, mocking, splashing him with spray.
“One day, having meditated long, Chieh Chung arose and shouted
exultantly: ‘I have it. I know how I shall regain my city. I shall go
immediately and put the plan in writing, while it is fresh in my mind.’
Having said, he walked to the little hut that served for his palace and
sat down at a table to write. On the table stood a crystal bowl, with a
lily, and with green, blue, and yellow stones.
“Chieh Chung sat writing meaningless stuff upon parchment. All the while
he kept an eye on the crystal bowl. Lo. There appeared seven red stones
at the root of the lily. The demons had come to spy upon the King’s
writing. They had come to learn his plan, and so triumph over him. But
they, unwittingly, were giving themselves into bondage again. For Chieh
Chung quickly thrust them into a bottle and sealed it against all
escape. Six of the demons he thus imprisoned. The seventh, who was a
small fellow, Chieh Chung threw back into the sea. ‘Go,’ said the King,
‘and take your sea with you. Take your sea, and never trouble me again.
Else I shall most certainly destroy your six brothers. It is a warning.’
[Illustration: So the seventh demon sped away taking the sea with him.]
“So the seventh demon sped away, taking the sea with him. Then did Chieh
Chung descend to Kua Hai and build up the city, people coming in from
far countries. Once more the city was inhabited, and the land was more
rich, by reason of its flooding.
“And the six Shen, the six water demons are buried deep, in a jade
bottle—perhaps under this very garden.”
[Illustration]
[Illustration]