ADVENTURE IN A BUDDHIST MONASTERY.--CHOW'S ENCOUNTER WITH A BONZE.
To Londoners who find it an easy matter to pass, at any time of the
night, from one end of the metropolis to the other, it may appear that
Nicholas and Chow had no very difficult task before them. Such however,
was not the case, for in the first place, instead of open thoroughfares,
the great streets of the cities of China are barricaded at the ends with
chains, and the smaller ones with wicket-gates, at each of which is
placed a watchman, whose business it is to question every pedestrian,
and through the night to keep clanging a piece of hard wood against a
hollow bamboo cane, for the purpose of showing his watchfulness.
As the boys, by aid of their lanterns picked their way through the
streets, they found them deserted; with the exception of a few
stragglers, each of whom carried a lantern, upon which was
ostentatiously emblazoned his name and rank. Imagine all the gas lamps
in London extinguished, and their places supplied by a few dancing
will-o'-the-wisp kind of lanterns, and you will have a tolerable notion
of the appearance of the great cities of China by night. Dismal, truly,
but perhaps not more so than were the streets of London not many years
since, when they were lighted by flickering oil lamps. Again, as were
those of London at the very period when these adventures happened, the
streets are so narrow that a good-sized carriage or wagon cannot pass
through without danger to the people, but then the narrowness of the
streets was less pardonable in Londoners of that age, than in the
Chinese of the present, whose great people ride in sedan-chairs, and
whose little people walk, and convey their goods to and fro in narrow
carts, like barrows, with one centre wheel. The Celestials are at least
consistent in fitting their vehicles to their streets, which is more
than could be said of old London, with its gutter streets and heavy
lumbering coaches, types of which may be seen every day in the London of
the present time.
The street in which the inn was situated was one of the principal, and,
therefore, of great length, and along the pavement, which was in the
middle of the road, the boys trudged onward, passing every now and then
beneath one of the numerous Pai-ho, or arches, which are erected to the
memory of good magistrates and virtuous women, till they came to a
lattice-gate which led into a smaller street, when their progress was
arrested, for the watchman was not at his post. They waited for some
time, till becoming impatient, Chow kicked the gate, when there arose
such a queer hissing noise, that the boy fell upon his face, exclaiming,
"My master, my master the demons of Yen-Vang have swallowed the
watchman, and are guarding the gate in his stead."
"Thou art a foolish coward," said Nicholas, who clambered up the gate,
and after looking through the wicket for a minute let go his hold and
laughed immoderately. "O Chow, Chow, thou idiot! not to know a demon
from one of thine own kind; surely these demons are nothing but geese;"
and as the watchman opened the wicket Chow saw that the noise which had
alarmed him had been caused by a couple of those birds, which the
watchman had trained to cackle and hiss at the slightest noise, so that
he might take a comfortable nap, with the certainty of being aroused
when wanted by the hissing.
"Truly they must be barbarian geese, for I should have understood them
had they cackled in Chinese," said Chow.
To get the gate open was one thing, to pass through another, for
perceiving neither name nor rank upon the lanterns, the watchman
determined to detain the boys as suspicious characters, and for that
purpose began to clang upon his bamboo for assistance, when a personage
came up to the wicket, and both the watchman and Chow bent their heads
respectfully. From the yellow robe, the string of beads around his neck,
and his shaven head, Nicholas saw that he was a bonze, or priest of Fo.
As this reverend gentleman came through the gate he ran his fingers up
and down the beads, and muttered, "O Mi to-fo," and so would have
passed, but for Chow, who said, "Will the man of prayer pardon an
insignificant mouse for interrupting his holy meditations?"
"The dogs are vagabonds, perhaps robbers, who have no name, surname, or
profession on their lanterns, O holy bonze," said the polite watchman.
"What would the nameless night prowlers with the priest of Buddha?" said
the bonze.
"Truly nothing but a guide to the monastery, where they seek a lodging
for which they pray of the holy father to accept alms."
At the word alms the eyes of the bonze sparkled with delight, and having
lifted his lantern so as to get a full view of Nicholas, he said to the
watchman, "Thou rascal! thy dog's head hath less brains than these
geese, and thine eyeballs are of lead, or thou wouldst have seen that so
well-looking a youth must be of honorable descent; moreover, where was
thy charity, that thou wouldst not aid a traveler?"
"Surely the man would be wanting in sense who should suppose that he had
the wisdom and divining power of a holy bonze," replied the trembling
guardian of the night.
Not deigning, however to notice this observation, the bonze conducted
the boys along several streets, till they reached a building surrounded
by a high wall, through which, by means of a small gate, they passed to
an avenue of magnificent trees, paved with marble, and which led to a
large gateway, guarded upon each side by a very ugly stone god. Passing
through the gateway, they entered a small room lighted from the centre
by one large lantern, decorated with portraits of the god Fo, in every
variety of character. This god, as you may probably know, is represented
by almost every kind of animal, biped and quadruped, into which during
the lapse of centuries his soul is supposed to have passed. Around this
room, which was for every day use, were small idols of gilt copper, with
ghos-sticks burning before them; on the table, in the centre of the
room, stood a time measure, that must remind you of the period of our
own King Alfred. It is termed the hourly incense-stick, and is notched
at equal distances, and as from notch to notch the stick takes exactly
one hour to burn, it accurately marks the passing time.
This ghos-stick, so named from its being burned as incense in the
ghos-houses or temples of China, is compounded of sawdust mixed with
glue and scent, and evenly rolled into thin rods of two or three feet in
length; in fact, the very same brown stick adopted by smokers in this
country for its pleasant perfume, and continuing to burn till reduced to
ashes. Having introduced the boys to this room the bonze withdrew, and
shortly afterward sent a servant with blankets and sleeping mats, upon
which they stretched themselves, not a little pleased at the opportunity
of getting a good sleep after their day's fatigue.
Long before morning, however, Nicholas was suddenly aroused from his
slumbers, and to his surprise saw the bonze upon the floor, with Chow
pummeling him with his fists, and crying, "I have thee, I have thee,
thou slayer of people's parents."
Not knowing what to make of this strange scene, Nicholas caught Chow by
the arm and endeavored to pull him away; this, however, served but to
excite him the more, for he pummeled at the bonze harder than ever. The
behavior of the priest was still more surprising, for instead of showing
any indignation at this strange treatment, all he said was, "Harm the
youth not my son; he is possessed with a demon; he sleeps, poor boy, and
mistakes me for some terrible enemy."
This explanation Nicholas soon found to be correct, for poor Chow had
been battling in his sleep; but how the bonze came into the boy's
clutches was a mystery, and one that, worn out as he was with fatigue,
he did not just then care about solving, so that he could get Chow to
his mat again, which after considerable trouble he managed, by telling
him that he was an officer of justice and would see that his enemy
should be punished. After which Nicholas threw himself upon his mat,
fell into a sound sleep, and slept till he was awakened by the deep
tones of the monastery bell.
During the morning meal he related the adventure to the much-puzzled
Chow, who could remember nothing but that he had dreamed that the slayer
of his father suddenly entered the room, and after prowling about for
some time, first searched the robe of Nicholas, and then came to his
bed, when, thinking he was going to kill him, he attacked him in
self-defence; though how his enemy should have become transformed into
the bonze, who certainly had no business in the room, was a puzzle that
he could not make out.
The explanation of the bonze was, that he had entered his visitors'
apartment to see that they had been properly attended to by the
servant--an explanation not at all satisfactory to Chow, who as soon as
the priest left the room said, "Is my master's girdle safe? for these
holy fathers are great rogues."
Alarmed for the safety of his letters, Nicholas examined his girdle;
they were safe; when shocked at his insinuation, the repentant Chow
exclaimed, "Truly, my master, Chow is less than the least of little
dogs, and must crave the good father's forgiveness,"--which he took the
first opportunity of doing, by falling upon all fours before the priest
and knocking his forehead to the ground, till the latter in pity lifted
the boy upon his legs again.