the famous Confucian scholar Han Yu, of the Tang dynasty. From his
earliest youth he cultivated the arts of the deathless gods, left his
home and became a Taoist. Grandfather Lu awakened him and raised him
to the heavenly world. Once he saved his uncle's life. The latter had
been driven from court, because he had objected when the emperor sent
for a bone of Buddha with great pomp. When he reached the Blue Pass in
his flight, a deep snowfall had made the road impassable. His horse
had floundered in a snow-drift, and he himself was well-nigh frozen.
Then Hang Siang Dsi suddenly appeared, helped him and his horse out of
the drift, and brought them safely to the nearest inn along the Blue
Pass. Han Yu sang a verse, in which the lines occurred:
Tsin Ling Hill 'mid clouds doth lie,
And home is far, beyond my sight!
Round the Blue Pass snow towers high,
And who will lead the horse aright?
Suddenly it occurred to him that several years before, Hang Siang Dsi
had come to his house to congratulate him on his birthday. Before he
had left, he had written these words on a slip of paper, and his uncle
had read them, without grasping their meaning. And now he was
unconsciously singing the very lines of that song that his nephew had
written. So he said to Hang Siang Dsi, with a sigh: "You must be one
of the Immortals, since you were able thus to foretell the future!"
And thrice Hang Siang Dsi sought to deliver his wife from the bonds of
earth. For when he left his home to seek the hidden wisdom, she sat
all day long yearning for his presence. Hang Siang Dsi wished to
release her into immortality, but he feared she was not capable of
translation. So he appeared to her in various forms, in order to try
her, once as a beggar, another time as a wandering monk. But his wife
did not grasp her opportunities. At last he took the shape of a lame
Taoist, who sat on a mat, beat a block of wood and read sutras before
the house.
His wife said: "My husband is not at home. I can give you nothing."
The Taoist answered: "I do not want your gold and silver, I want you.
Sit down beside me on the mat, and we will fly up into the air and you
shall find your husband again!"
Hereupon the woman grew angry and struck at him with a cudgel.
Then Hang Siang Dsi changed himself into his true form, stepped on a
shining cloud and was carried aloft. His wife looked after him and
wept loudly; but he had disappeared and was not seen again.
The eighth Immortal is a girl and was called Ho Sian Gu. She was a
peasant's daughter, and though her step-mother treated her harshly she
remained respectful and industrious. She loved to give alms, though
her step-mother tried to prevent her. Yet she was never angry, even
when her step-mother beat her. She had sworn not to marry, and at last
her step-mother did not know what to do with her. One day, while she
was cooking rice, Grandfather Du came and delivered her. She was still
holding the rice-spoon in her hand as she ascended into the air. In
the heavens she was appointed to sweep up the fallen flowers at the
Southern Gate of Heaven.
Note: The legends of the Eight Immortals, regarded as
one group, do not go back further than the Manchu
dynasty, though individual ones among them were known
before. Some of the Immortals, like Han Siang Dsi, are
historic personages, others purely mythical. In the
present day they play an important part in art and in
the art-crafts. Their emblems also occur frequently:
Dschung Li Kuan is represented with a fan. Dschang Go
has a bamboo drum with two drum-sticks (and his donkey).
Lu Dung Bin has a sword and a flower-basket on his
back. Tsau Guo Gui has two small boards, (Yin Yang Ban),
which he can throw into the air. Li Tia Guai has the
bottle-gourd, out of which emerges a bat, the emblem of
good fortune. Lan Tsai Ho, who is also pictured as a woman,
has a flute. Han Siang Dsi has a flower-basket and a
dibble. Ho Sian Gu has a spoon, usually formed in the
shape of a lotus-flower.
XXXI
THE EIGHT IMMORTALS (II)
Once upon a time there was a poor man, who at last had no roof to
shelter him and not a bite to eat. So, weary and worn, he lay down
beside a little temple of the field-god that stood by the roadside and
fell asleep. And he dreamed that the old, white-bearded field-god came
out of his little shrine and said to him: "I know of a means to help
you! To-morrow the Eight Immortals will pass along this road. Cast
yourself down before them and plead to them!"
When the man awoke he seated himself beneath the great tree beside the
field-god's little temple, and waited all day long for his dream to
come true. At last, when the sun had nearly sunk, eight figures came
down the road, which the beggar clearly recognized as those of the
Eight Immortals. Seven of them were hurrying as fast as they could,
but one among them, who had a lame leg, limped along after the rest.
Before him--it was Li Tia Guai--the man cast himself to earth. But the
lame Immortal did not want to bother with him, and told him to go
away. Yet the poor man would not give over pleading with him, begging
that he might go with them and be one of the Immortals, too. That
would be impossible, said the cripple. Yet, as the poor man did not
cease his prayers and would not leave him, he at last said: "Very
well, then, take hold of my coat!" This the man did and off they went
in flying haste over paths and fields, on and on, and even further on.
Suddenly they stood together high up on the tower of Pong-lai-schan,
the ghost mountain by the Eastern Sea. And, lo, there stood the rest
of the Immortals as well! But they were very discontented with the
companion whom Li Tia Guai had brought along. Yet since the poor man
pleaded so earnestly, they too allowed themselves to be moved, and
said to him: "Very well! We will now leap down into the sea. If you
follow us you may also become an Immortal!" And one after another the
seven leaped down into the sea. But when it came to the man's turn he
was frightened, and would not dare the leap. Then the cripple said to
him: "If you are afraid, then you cannot become an Immortal!"
"But what shall I do now?" wailed the man, "I am far from my home and
have no money!" The cripple broke off a fragment of the battlement of
the tower, and thrust it into the man's hand; then he also leaped from
the tower and disappeared into the sea like his seven companions.
When the man examined the stone in his hand more closely, he saw that
it was the purest silver. It provided him with traveling money during
the many weeks it took him to reach his home. But by that time the
silver was completely used up, and he found himself just as poor as he
had been before.
Note: Little field-god temples, Tu Di Miau, are
miniature stone chapels which stand before every
village. As regards the field-god, see No. 51.
XXXII
THE TWO SCHOLARS
Once upon a time there were two scholars. One was named Liu Tschen and
the other Yuan Dschau. Both were young and handsome. One spring day
they went together into the hills of Tian Tai to gather curative
herbs. There they came to a little valley where peach-trees blossomed
luxuriantly on either side. In the middle of the valley was a cave,
where two maidens stood under the blossoming trees, one of them clad
in red garments, the other in green. And they were beautiful beyond
all telling. They beckoned to the scholars with their hands.
"And have you come?" they asked. "We have been waiting for you
overlong!"
Then they led them into the cave and served them with tea and wine.
"I have been destined for the lord Liu," said the maiden in the red
gown; "and my sister is for the lord Yuan!"
And so they were married. Every day the two scholars gazed at the
flowers or played chess so that they forgot the mundane world
completely. They only noticed that at times the peach-blossoms on the
trees before the cave opened, and at others that they fell from the
boughs. And, at times, unexpectedly, they felt cold or warm, and had
to change the clothing they were wearing. And they marveled within
themselves that it should be so.
Then, one day, they were suddenly overcome by homesickness. Both
maidens were already aware of it.
"When our lords have once been seized with homesickness, then we may
hold them no longer," said they.
On the following day they prepared a farewell banquet, gave the
scholars magic wine to take along with them and said:
"We will see one another again. Now go your way!"
And the scholars bade them farewell with tears.
When they reached home the gates and doors had long since vanished,
and the people of the village were all strangers to them. They crowded
about the scholars and asked who they might be.
"We are Liu Tschen and Yuan Dschau. Only a few days ago we went into
the hills to pick herbs!"
With that a servant came hastening up and looked at them. At last he
fell at Liu Tschen's feet with great joy and cried: "Yes, you are
really my master! Since you went away, and we had no news of any kind
regarding you some seventy years or more have passed."
Thereupon he drew the scholar Liu through a high gateway, ornamented
with bosses and a ring in a lion's mouth, as is the custom in the
dwellings of those of high estate.
And when he entered the hall, an old lady with white hair and bent
back, leaning on a cane, came forward and asked: "What man is this?"
"Our master has returned again," replied the servant. And then,
turning to Liu he added: "That is the mistress. She is nearly a
hundred years old, but fortunately is still strong and in good
health."
Tears of joy and sadness filled the old lady's eyes.
"Since you went away among the immortals, I had thought that we should
never see each other again in this life," said she. "What great good
fortune that you should have returned after all!"
And before she had ended the whole family, men and women, came
streaming up and welcomed him in a great throng outside the hall.
And his wife pointed out this one and that and said: "That is so and
so, and this is so and so!"
At the time the scholar had disappeared there had been only a tiny boy
in his home, but a few years old. And he was now an old man of eighty.
He had served the empire in a high office, and had already retired to
enjoy his old age in the ancestral gardens. There were three
grand-children, all celebrated ministers; there were more than ten
great-grand-children, of whom five had already passed their examinations
for the doctorate; there were some twenty great-great-grand-children, of
whom the oldest had just returned home after having passed his induction
examinations for the magistracy with honor. And the little ones, who
were carried in their parents' arms, were not to be counted. The
grand-children, who were away, busy with their duties, all asked for
leave and returned home when they heard that their ancestor had
returned. And the girl grand-children, who had married into other
families, also came. This filled Liu with joy, and he had a family
banquet prepared in the hall, and all his descendants, with their wives
and husbands sat about him in a circle. He himself and his wife, a
white-haired, wrinkled old lady, sat in their midst at the upper end.
The scholar himself still looked like a youth of twenty years, so that
all the young people in the circle looked around and laughed.
Then the scholar said: "I have a means of driving away old age!"
And he drew out his magic wine and gave his wife some of it to drink.
And when she had taken three glasses, her white hair gradually turned
black again, her wrinkles disappeared, and she sat beside her husband,
a handsome young woman. Then his son and the older grand-children
came up and all asked for a drink of the wine. And whichever of them
drank only so much as a drop of it was turned from an old man into a
youth. The tale was bruited abroad and came to the emperor's ears. The
emperor wanted to call Liu to his court, but he declined with many
thanks. Yet he sent the emperor some of his magic wine as a gift. This
pleased the emperor greatly, and he gave Liu a tablet of honor, with
the inscription:
"The Common Home of Five Generations"
Besides this he sent him three signs which he had written with his own
imperial brush signifying:
"Joy in longevity"
As to the other of the two scholars, Yuan Dschau, he was not so
fortunate. When he came home he found that his wife and child had long
since died, and his grand-children and great-grand-children were
mostly useless people. So he did not remain long, but returned to the
hills. Yet Liu Tschen remained for some years with his family, then
taking his wife with him, went again to the Tai Hills and was seen no
more.
Note: This tale is placed in the reign of the Emperor
Ming Di (A.D. 58-75). Its motive is that of the legend
of the Seven Sleepers, and is often found in Chinese
fairy tales.
XXXIII
THE MISERLY FARMER
Once upon a time there was a farmer who had carted pears to market.
Since they were very sweet and fragrant, he hoped to get a good price
for them. A bonze with a torn cap and tattered robe stepped up to his
cart and asked for one. The farmer repulsed him, but the bonze did not
go. Then the farmer grew angry and began to call him names. The bonze
said: "You have pears by the hundred in your cart. I only ask for one.
Surely that does you no great injury. Why suddenly grow so angry about
it?"
The bystanders told the farmer that he ought to give the bonze one of
the smaller pears and let him go. But the farmer would not and did
not. An artisan saw the whole affair from his shop, and since the
noise annoyed him, he took some money, bought a pear and gave it to
the bonze.
The bonze thanked him and said: "One like myself, who has given up the
world, must not be miserly. I have beautiful pears myself, and I
invite you all to eat them with me." Then some one asked: "If you have
pears then why do you not eat your own?" He answered: "I first must
have a seed to plant."
And with that he began to eat the pear with gusto. When he had
finished, he held the pit in his hand, took his pick-ax from his
shoulder; and dug a hole a couple of inches deep. Into this he thrust
the pit, and covered it with earth. Then he asked the folk in the
market place for water, with which to water it. A pair of curiosity
seekers brought him hot water from the hostelry in the street, and
with it the bonze watered the pit. Thousands of eyes were turned on
the spot. And the pit could already be seen to sprout. The sprout grew
and in a moment it had turned into a tree. Branches and leaves
burgeoned out from it. It began to blossom and soon the fruit had
ripened: large, fragrant pears, which hung in thick clusters from the
boughs. The bonze climbed into the tree and handed down the pears to
the bystanders. In a moment all the pears had been eaten up. Then the
bonze took his pick-ax and cut down the tree. Crash, crash! so it went
for a while, and the tree was felled. Then he took the tree on his
shoulder and walked away at an easy gait.
When the bonze had begun to make his magic, the farmer, too, had
mingled with the crowd. With neck outstretched and staring eyes he had
stood there and had entirely forgotten the business he hoped to do
with his pears. When the bonze had gone off he turned around to look
after his cart. His pears had all disappeared. Then he realized that
the pears the bonze had divided had been his own. He looked more
closely, and the axle of his cart had disappeared. It was plainly
evident that it had been chopped off quite recently. The farmer fell
into a rage and hastened after the bonze as fast as ever he could. And
when he turned the corner, there lay the missing piece from the axle
by the city wall. And then he realized that the pear-tree which the
bonze had chopped down must have been his axle. The bonze, however,
was nowhere to be found. And the whole crowd in the market burst out
into loud laughter.
Note: The axle in China is really a handle, for the
little Chinese carts are one-wheel push-carts with two
handles or shafts.
XXXIV
SKY O'DAWN
Once upon a time there was a man who took a child to a woman in a
certain village, and told her to take care of him. Then he
disappeared. And because the dawn was just breaking in the sky when
the woman took the child into her home, she called him Sky O'Dawn.
When the child was three years old, he would often look up to the
heavens and talk with the stars. One day he ran away and many months
passed before he came home again. The woman gave him a whipping. But
he ran away again, and did not return for a year. His foster-mother
was frightened, and asked: "Where have you been all year long?" The
boy answered: "I only made a quick trip to the Purple Sea. There the
water stained my clothes red. So I went to the spring at which the sun
turns in, and washed them. I went away in the morning and I came back
at noon. Why do you speak about my having been gone a year?"
Then the woman asked: "And where did you pass on your way?"
The boy answered: "When I had washed my clothes, I rested for a while
in the City of the Dead and fell asleep. And the King-Father of the
East gave me red chestnuts and rosy dawn-juice to eat, and my hunger
was stilled. Then I went to the dark skies and drank the yellow dew,
and my thirst was quenched. And I met a black tiger and wanted to ride
home on his back. But I whipped him too hard, and he bit me in the
leg. And so I came back to tell you about it."
[Illustration: "'AND I CROSSED THE WATER ON THE SHOE.'"
--_Page 91_]
Once more the boy ran away from home, thousands of miles, until he
came to the swamp where dwelt the Primal Mist. There he met an old man
with yellow eyebrows and asked him how old he might be. The old man
said: "I have given up the habit of eating, and live on air. The
pupils of my eyes have gradually acquired a green glow, which enables
me to see all hidden things. Whenever a thousand years have passed I
turn around my bones and wash the marrow. And every two thousand years
I scrape my skin to get rid of the hair. I have already washed my
bones thrice and scraped my skin five times."
Afterward Sky O'Dawn served the Emperor Wu of the Han dynasty. The
Emperor, who was fond of the magic arts, was much attached to him. One
day he said to him: "I wish that the empress might not grow old. Can
you prevent it?"
Sky O'Dawn answered: "I know of only one means to keep from growing
old."
The Emperor asked what herbs one had to eat. Sky O'Dawn replied: "In
the North-East grow the mushrooms of life. There is a three-legged
crow in the sun who always wants to get down and eat them. But the
Sun-God holds his eyes shut and does not let him get away. If human
beings eat them they become immortal, when animals eat them they grow
stupefied."
"And how do you know this?" asked the Emperor.
"When I was a boy I once fell into a deep well, from which I could not
get out for many decades. And down there was an immortal who led me to
this herb. But one has to pass through a red river whose water is so
light that not even a feather can swim on it. Everything that touches
its surface sinks to the depths. But the man pulled off one of his
shoes and gave it to me. And I crossed the water on the shoe, picked
the herb and ate it. Those who dwell in that place weave mats of
pearls and precious stones. They led me to a spot before which hung a
curtain of delicate, colored skin. And they gave me a pillow carved of
black jade, on which were graven sun and moon, clouds and thunder.
They covered me with a dainty coverlet spun of the hair of a hundred
gnats. A cover of that kind is very cool and refreshing in summer. I
felt of it with my hands, and it seemed to be formed of water; but
when I looked at it more closely, it was pure light."
Once the Emperor called together all his magicians in order to talk
with them about the fields of the blessed spirits. Sky O'Dawn was
there, too, and said: "Once I was wandering about the North Pole and I
came to the Fire-Mirror Mountain. There neither sun nor moon shines.
But there is a dragon who holds a fiery mirror in his jaws in order to
light up the darkness. On the mountain is a park, and in the park is a
lake. By the lake grows the glimmer-stalk grass, which shines like a
lamp of gold. If you pluck it and use it for a candle, you can see all
things visible, and the shapes of the spirits as well. It even
illuminates the interior of a human being."
Once Sky O'Dawn went to the East, into the country of the fortunate
clouds. And he brought back with him from that land a steed of the
gods, nine feet high. The Emperor asked him how he had come to find
it.
So he told him: "The Queen-Mother of the West had him harnessed to her
wagon when she went to visit the King-Father of the East. The steed
was staked out in the field of the mushrooms of life. But he trampled
down several hundred of them. This made the King-Father angry, and he
drove the steed away to the heavenly river. There I found him and rode
him home. I rode three times around the sun, because I had fallen
asleep on the steed's back. And then, before I knew it, I was here.
This steed can catch up with the sun's shadow. When I found him he was
quite thin and as sad as an aged donkey. So I mowed the grass of the
country of the fortunate clouds, which grows once every two-thousand
years on the Mountain of the Nine Springs and fed it to the horse; and
that made him lively again."
The Emperor asked what sort of a place the country of the fortunate
clouds might be. Sky O'Dawn answered: "There is a great swamp there.
The people prophesy fortune and misfortune by the air and the clouds.
If good fortune is to befall a house, clouds of five colors form in
the rooms, which alight on the grass and trees and turn into a colored
dew. This dew tastes as sweet as cider."
The Emperor asked whether he could obtain any of this dew. Sky O'Dawn
replied: "My steed could take me to the place where it falls four
times in the course of a single day!"
And sure enough he came back by evening, and brought along dew of
every color in a crystal flask. The Emperor drank it and his hair grew
black again. He gave it to his highest officials to drink, and the old
grew young again and the sick became well.
Once, when a comet appeared in the heavens, Sky O'Dawn gave the
Emperor the astrologer's wand. The Emperor pointed it at the comet and
the comet was quenched.
Sky O'Dawn was an excellent whistler. And whenever he whistled in full
tones, long drawn out, the motes in the sunbeams danced to his music.
Once he said to a friend: "There is not a soul on earth who knows who
I am with the exception of the astrologer!"
When Sky O'Dawn had died, the Emperor called the astrologer to him
and asked: "Did you know Sky O'Dawn?"
He replied: "No!"
The Emperor said: "What do you know?"
The astrologer answered: "I know how to gaze on the stars."
"Are all the stars in their places?" asked the Emperor.
"Yes, but for eighteen years I have not seen the Star of the Great
Year. Now it is visible once more."
Then the Emperor looked up towards the skies and sighed: "For eighteen
years Sky O'Dawn kept me company, and I did not know that he was the
Star of the Great Year!"
Note: The mother of Sky O'Dawn, (Dung Fang So) who makes
so mysterious an appearance on earth, according to one
tradition, is the third daughter of the Lord of the
Heavens. (Comp. Note to No. 16). Dung Fang So is an
incarnation of the Wood Star or Star of the Great Year
(Jupiter). The King-Father of the East, one of the Five
Ancients, is the representative of wood (comp. No. 15).
Red chestnuts, like fire-dates, are fruits of the gods,
and bestow immortality. Sky O'Dawn was an excellent
whistler. Whistling is a famous means of magic among the
Taoists. The Emperor Wu of the Han dynasty, was a prince
who is reputed to have devoted much attention to the
magic arts. He reigned from 140 to 86 B.C. The
three-legged crow in the sun is the counterpart of the
three-legged ram-toad in the moon. The Red River recalls
the Weak River by the Castle of the Queen-Mother of the
West.
XXXV
KING MU OF DSCHOU