back again to the upper world.
When he came to the Yellow River on his journey, he did what the Lord
of the Great Mountain had told him, and cried: "Greencoat!" And sure
enough, a girl in green garments rose from the water, took him by the
hand and told him to close his eyes. Then she led him into the palace
of the river-god and he delivered the letter. The river-god
entertained him splendidly, and thanked him as best he knew how. At
parting he said: "I am grateful that you have made this long journey
to see me. I have nothing to give you, however, save this pair of
green silk shoes. While you are wearing them you can keep on walking
as long as you like and never grow weary. And they will give you the
second sight, so that you will be able to see the spirits and gods."
The man thanked him for the gift and returned to his ship. He
continued on his journey to the West, and after a year had passed,
came back again. When he reached the Great Mountain, he thought it
would be fit and proper to report to the god. So he once more knocked
against the tree and gave his name. In a moment the red-clad messenger
appeared and led him to the Lord of the Mountain. So he reported that
he had delivered the letter to the river-god, and how all things were
there, and the Lord of the Mountain thanked him. During the meal which
the god had prepared for him, he withdrew for a few moments to a quiet
spot. Suddenly he saw his deceased father, bound and loaded with
chains, who together with several hundred other criminals, was doing
menial labor.
Moved to tears, he asked: "O my father, why are you here?"
His father replied: "During my life on earth I happened to tread on
bread, hence I was condemned to hard labor at this spot. I have passed
two years in this manner, yet their bitterness has been unspeakable.
Since you are acquainted with the Lord of the Mountain, you might
plead for me, and beg him to excuse me from this task and make me the
field-god in our village."
His son promised to do so, and went back and pleaded with the Lord of
the Mountain as he had agreed. The latter seemed inclined to listen to
his prayer, yet said warningly: "The quick and the dead tread
different paths. It is not well for the dead and the living to abide
near one another permanently."
The man returned home. Yet, in about a year's time nearly all his
children had died. In the terror of his heart he turned to the Lord of
the Great Mountain. He beat on the tree; the red-coat came and led him
into the palace. There he told of his misfortune and begged the god to
protect him. The Lord of the Mountain smiled: "Did I not tell you in
the start that the quick and the dead tread different paths, and that
it is not well if they abide near each other permanently? Now you see
what has happened!" Yet he sent his messenger to fetch the man's
father. The father came and the god spake to him as follows: "I
forgave you your offense and sent you back to your home as a
field-god. It was your duty to bring happiness to your family.
Instead, nearly all of your grand-children have died off. Why is
this?"
And the father said: "I had been away from home so long that I was
overjoyed to return. Besides I had meat and drink in overflowing
measure. So I thought of my little grand-children and called them to
me."
Then the Lord of the Great Mountain appointed another field-god for
that village, and also gave the father another place. And from that
time no further misfortune happened to the family of Hu-Wu-Bau.
Note: The Lord of the Great Mountain was originally
Huang Fe-Hu, a faithful servant of the tyrant
Dschou-Sin. Because of an insult offered him, he joined
King Wu, and when the latter overcame the tyrant, was
made Lord of the Mountain, and overlord of the ten
princes of the nether world.
LII
RETRIBUTION
Once upon a time there was a boy named Ma, whose father taught him
himself, at home. The window of the upper story looked out on the rear
upon a terrace belonging to old Wang, who had a garden of
chrysanthemums there. One day Ma rose early, and stood leaning against
the window, watching the day dawn. And out came old Wang from his
terrace and watered his chrysanthemums. When he had just finished and
was going in again, along came a water-carrier, bearing two pails on
his shoulders, who seemed to want to help him. But the old man grew
annoyed and motioned him off. Yet the water-carrier insisted on
mounting the terrace. So they pulled each other about on the
terrace-edge. It had been raining, the terrace was slippery, its
border high and narrow, and when the old man thrust back the
water-carrier with his hand, the latter lost his balance, slipped and
tumbled down the slope. Then the old man hastened down to pick him up;
but the two pails had fallen on his chest and he lay there with feet
outstretched. The old man was extremely frightened. Without uttering a
sound, he took hold of the water-carrier's feet, and dragged him
through the back door to the bank of the stream which flowed by the
garden. Then he fetched the pails and set them down beside the corpse.
After that he went home, locked the door and went to bed again.
Little Ma, in spite of his youth, thought it would be better to say
nothing about an affair of this kind, in which a human life was
involved. He shut the window and withdrew. The sun rose higher, and
soon he heard a clamor without: "A dead man is lying on the
river-bank!" The constable gave notice, and in the afternoon the judge
came up to the beating of gongs, and the inspector of the dead knelt
down and uncovered the corpse; yet the body showed no wound. So it was
said: "He slipped and fell to his death!" The judge questioned the
neighbors, but the neighbors all insisted that they knew nothing of
the matter. Thereupon the judge had the body placed in a coffin,
sealed it with his seal, and ordered that the relatives of the
deceased be found. And then he went his way.
Nine years passed by, and young Ma had reached the age of twenty-one
and become a baccalaureate. His father had died, and the family was
poor. So it came about that in the same room in which he had formerly
studied his lessons, he now gathered a few pupils about him, to
instruct them.
The time for examinations drew near. Ma had risen early, in order to
work. He opened the window and there, in the distant alley, he saw a
man with two pails gradually drawing nearer. When he looked more
closely, it was the water-carrier. Greatly frightened, he thought that
he had returned to repay old Wang. Yet he passed the old man's door
without entering it. Then he went a few steps further to the house of
the Lis; and there went in. The Lis were wealthy people, and since
they were near neighbors the Mas and they were on a visiting footing.
The matter seemed very questionable to Ma, and he got up and followed
the water-carrier.
At the door of Li's house he met an old servant who was just coming
out and who said: "Heaven is about to send a child to our mistress! I
must go buy incense to burn to the gods in order to show our
gratitude!"
Ma asked: "Did not a man with two pails of water on his shoulder just
go in?"
The servant said there had not, but before he had finished speaking a
maid came from the house and said: "You need not go to buy incense,
for I have found some. And, through the favor of heaven, the child has
already come to us." Then Ma began to realize that the water-carrier
had returned to be born again into the life of earth, and not to exact
retribution. He wondered, though, for what merit of his the former
water-carrier happened to be re-born into so wealthy a family. So he
kept the matter in mind, and from time to time inquired as to the
child's well-being.
Seven more years went by, and the boy gradually grew up. He did not
show much taste for learning, but he loved to keep birds. Old Wang was
still strong and healthy. And though he was by this time more than
eighty years old, his love for his chrysanthemums had only increased
with age.
One day Ma once more rose early, and stood leaning against his window.
And he saw old Wang come out upon his terrace and begin to water his
chrysanthemums. Little Li sat in the upper story of his house flying
his pigeons. Suddenly some of the pigeons flew down on the railing of
the flower-garden. The boy was afraid they might fly off and called
them, but the pigeons did not move. The boy did not know what to do:
he picked up stones and threw them at the birds. By mistake one of
them struck old Wang. The old man started, slipped, and fell down over
the terrace. Time passed and he did not rise. He lay there with his
feet outstretched. The boy was very much frightened. Without uttering
a sound he softly closed his window and went away. The sun gradually
rose higher, and the old man's sons and grandsons all came out to look
for him. They found him and said: "He slipped and fell to his death!"
And they buried him as was the custom.
Note: This little tale, from the "Sin Tsi Hia," is a
literary masterpiece because of the exactness with which
the punishment follows upon the act, long after the
latter has been forgiven, and all chance of mishap
seemed to have passed.
LIII
THE GHOST WHO WAS FOILED
There are ghosts of many kinds, but the ghosts of those who have hung
themselves are the worst. Such ghosts are always coaxing other living
people to hang themselves from the beams of the roof. If they succeed
in persuading some one to hang himself, then the road to the Nether
World is open to them, and they can once more enter into the wheel of
transformation. The following story of such a ghost is told by persons
worthy of belief.
Once upon a time there lived a man in Tsing Tschoufu who had passed
his military examination, and had been ordered to Tsinanfu to report
for duty. It was at the season of rains. So it happened that evening
came on before he could reach the town-inn where he had expected to
pass the night. Just as the sun was setting he reached a small village
and asked for a night's lodging. But there were only poor families in
the village who had no room for him in their huts. So they directed
him to an old temple which stood outside the village, and said he
could spend the night there.
The images of the gods in the temple were all decayed, so that one
could not distinguish one from the other. Thick spider-webs covered
the entrance, and the dust lay inches high everywhere. So the soldier
went out into the open, where he found an old flight of steps. He
spread out his knapsack on a stone step, tied his horse to an old
tree, took his flask from his pocket and drank--for it had been a hot
day. There had been a heavy rain, but it had just cleared again. The
new moon was on the decline. The soldier closed his eyes and tried to
sleep.
Suddenly he heard a rustling sound in the temple, and a cool wind
passed over his face and made him shudder. And he saw a woman come out
of the temple, dressed in an old dirty red gown, and with a face as
white as a chalk wall. She stole past quietly as though she were
afraid of being seen. The soldier knew no fear. So he pretended to be
asleep and did not move, but watched her with half-shut eyes. And he
saw her draw a rope from her sleeve and disappear. Then he knew that
she was the ghost of one who had hung herself. He got up softly and
followed her, and, sure enough, she went into the village.
When she came to a certain house she slipped into the court through a
crack in the door. The soldier leaped over the wall after her. It was
a house with three rooms. In the rear room a lamp was burning dimly.
The soldier looked through the window into the room, and there was a
young woman of about twenty sitting on the bed, sighing deeply, and
her kerchief was wet through with tears. Beside her lay a little
child, asleep. The woman looked up toward the beam of the ceiling. One
moment she would weep and the next she would stroke the child. When
the soldier looked more closely, there was the ghost sitting up on the
beam. She had passed the rope around her neck and was hanging herself
in dumb show. And whenever she beckoned with her hand the woman looked
up toward her. This went on for some time.
Finally the woman said: "You say it would be best for me to die. Very
well, then, I will die; but I cannot part from my child!"
And once more she burst into tears. But the ghost merely laughed and
coaxed her again.
So the woman said determinedly: "It is enough. I will die!"
With these words she opened her chest of clothes, put on new garments,
and painted her face before the mirror. Then she drew up a bench and
climbed up on it. She undid her girdle and knotted it to the beam. She
had already stretched forth her neck and was about to leap from the
bench, when the child suddenly awoke and began to cry. The woman
climbed down again and soothed and quieted her child, and while she
was petting it she wept, so that the tears fell from her eyes like a
string of pearls. The ghost frowned and hissed, for it feared to lose
its prey. In a short time the child had fallen asleep again, and the
woman once more began to look aloft. Then she rose, again climbed on
the bench, and was about to lay the noose about her neck when the
soldier began to call out loudly and drum on the window-pane. Then he
broke it and climbed into the room. The woman fell to the ground and
the ghost disappeared. The soldier recalled the woman to
consciousness, and then he saw something hanging down from the beam,
like a cord without an end. Knowing that it belonged to the ghost of
the hanged woman he took and kept it.
Then he said to the woman: "Take good care of your child! You have
but one life to lose in this world!"
And with that he went out.
Then it occurred to him that his horse and his baggage were still in
the temple. And he went there to get them. When he came out of the
village there was the ghost, waiting for him in the road.
The ghost bowed and said: "I have been looking for a substitute for
many years, and to-day, when it seemed as though I should really get
one, you came along and spoiled my chances. So there is nothing more
for me to do. Yet there is something which I left behind me in my
hurry. You surely must have found it, and I will ask you to return it
to me. If I only have this one thing, my not having found a substitute
will not worry me."
Then the soldier showed her the rope and said with a laugh: "Is this
the thing you mean? Why, if I were to give it back to you then some
one is sure to hang themselves. And that I could not allow."
With these words he wound the rope around his arm, drove her off and
said: "Now be off with you!"
But then the ghost grew angry. Her face turned greenish-black, her
hair fell in wild disorder down her neck, her eyes grew bloodshot, and
her tongue hung far out of her mouth. She stretched forth both hands
and tried to seize the soldier, but he struck out at her with his
clenched fist. By mistake he hit himself in the nose and it began to
bleed. Then he sprinkled a few drops of blood in her direction and,
since the ghosts cannot endure human blood, she ceased her attack,
moved off a few paces and began to abuse him. This she did for some
time, until the cock in the village began to crow. Then the ghost
disappeared.
In the meantime the farmer-folk of the village had come to thank the
soldier. It seems that after he had left the woman her husband had
come home, and asked his wife what had happened. And then for the
first time he had learned what had occurred. So they all set out
together along the road in order to look for the soldier outside the
village. When they found him he was still beating the air with his
fists and talking wildly. So they called out to him and he told them
what had taken place. The rope could still be seen on his bare arm;
yet it had grown fast to it, and surrounded it in the shape of a red
ring of flesh.
The day was just dawning, so the soldier swung himself into his saddle
and rode away.
Note: This tale has been handed down traditionally, and
is given as told among the people.
LIV
THE PUNISHMENT OF GREED
Once upon a time there lived a man south of the Yangtze-kiang. He had
taken a position as a teacher in Sutschoufu, on the border of
Shantung. But when he got there he found that the schoolhouse had not
yet been completed. Yet a two-story building in the neighborhood had
been rented, in which the teacher was to live and hold school in the
meantime. This house stood outside the village, not far from the river
bank. A broad plain, overgrown with tangled brush, stretched out from
it on every side. The teacher was pleased with the view.
Well, one evening he was standing in the door of his house watching
the sun go down. The smoke that rose from the village chimneys
gradually merged with the twilight shadows. All the noises of the day
had died away. Suddenly, off in the distance, along the river bank, he
beheld a fiery gleam. He hurried away at once in order to see what it
might be. And there, on the bank, he found a wooden coffin, from which
came the radiance he had noticed. Thought the teacher to himself: "The
jewels with which they adorn the dead on their journey shine by night.
Perhaps there are gems in the coffin!" And greed awoke in his heart,
and he forgot that a coffin is a resting-place of the dead and should
be respected. He took up a large stone, broke the cover of the coffin,
and bent over to look more closely. And there in the coffin lay a
youth. His face was as white as paper, he wore a mourning turban on
his head, his body was wrapped in hempen garments, and he wore straw
sandals on his feet. The teacher was greatly frightened and turned to
go away. But the corpse had already raised itself to a sitting
posture. Then the teacher's fear got the better of him, and he began
to run. And the corpse climbed out of its coffin and ran after him.
Fortunately the house was not far away. The teacher ran as fast as he
could, flew up the steps and locked the door after him. Gradually he
caught his breath again. Outside there was not a sound to be heard. So
he thought that perhaps the corpse had not followed him all the way.
He opened the window and peered down. The corpse was leaning against
the wall of the house. Suddenly it saw that the window had been
opened, and with one leap it bounded up and in through it. Overcome by
terror, the teacher fell down the stairs of the house, and rolled
unconscious to the bottom of the flight. And when he did so the
corpse fell down on the floor of the room above.
At the time the school children had all long since gone home. And the
owner of the house lived in another dwelling, so that no one knew
anything about what had happened. On the following morning the
children came to school as usual. They found the door locked, and when
they called no one answered. Then they broke down the door and found
their teacher lying unconscious on the ground. They sprinkled him with
ginger, but it took a long time before he woke from his coma. When
they asked he told them all that had occurred. Then they all went
upstairs and took away the corpse. It was taken outside the village
limits and burned, and the bones which remained were once more laid in
the coffin. But the teacher said, with a sigh: "Because of a moment's
greed, I nearly lost my life!" He resigned his position, returned home
and never, through all the days of his life, did he speak of gain
again.
Note: The corpse wears a mourning turban and is dressed
in mourning. According to local tradition, young people
who die before their parents, are laid in their coffins
clad in mourning, so that even in death they may do
their duty and be able to mourn their parents when the
latter shall have died. The tale is taken from the Su
Tsi Hia.
LV
THE NIGHT ON THE BATTLEFIELD
Once upon a time there was a merchant, who was wandering toward
Shantung with his wares, along the road from the South. At about the
second watch of the night, a heavy storm blew up from the North. And
he chanced to see an inn at one side of the road, whose lights were
just being lit. He went in to get something to drink and order
lodgings for the night, but the folk at the inn raised objections. Yet
an old man among them took pity on his unhappy situation and said: "We
have just prepared a meal for warriors who have come a long distance,
and we have no wine left to serve you. But there is a little side room
here which is still free, and there you may stay overnight." With
these words he led him into it. But the merchant could not sleep
because of his hunger and thirst. Outside he could hear the noise of
men and horses. And since all these proceedings did not seem quite
natural to him, he got up and looked through a crack in the door. And
he saw that the whole inn was filled with soldiers, who were sitting
on the ground, eating and drinking, and talking about campaigns of
which he had never heard. After a time they began calling to each
other: "The general is coming!" And far off in the distance could be
heard the cries of his bodyguard. All the soldiers hurried out to
receive him. Then the merchant saw a procession with many paper
lanterns, and riding in their midst a man of martial appearance with a
long beard. He dismounted, entered the inn, and took his place at the
head of the board. The soldiers mounted guard at the door, awaiting
his commands, and the inn-keeper served food and drink, to which the
general did full justice.
When he had finished his officers entered, and he said to them: "You
have now been underway for some time. Go back to your men. I shall
rest a little myself. It will be time enough to beat the assembly when
the order to advance is given."
The officers received his commands and withdrew. Then the general
called out: "Send Asti in!" and a young officer entered from the left
side of the house. The people of the inn locked the gates and withdrew
for the night, while Asti conducted the long-haired general to a door
at the left, through a crack of which shone the light of a lamp. The
merchant stole from his room and looked through the crack in the door.
Within the room was a bed of bamboo, without covers or pillows. The
lamp stood on the ground. The long-bearded general took hold of his
head. It came off and he placed it on the bed. Then Asti took hold of
his arms. These also came off and were carefully placed beside the
head. Then the old general threw himself down on the bed crosswise,
and Asti took hold of his body, which came apart below the thighs, and
the two legs fell to the ground. Then the lamp went out. Overcome by
terror the merchant hurried back to his room as fast as he could,
holding his sleeves before his eyes, and laid down on his bed, where
he tossed about sleepless all night.
At last he heard a cock crow in the distance. He was shivering. He
took his sleeves from his face and saw that dawn was stealing along
the sky. And when he looked about him, there he was lying in the
middle of a thick clump of brush. Round about him was a wilderness,
not a house, not even a grave was to be seen anywhere. In spite of
being chilled, he ran about three miles till he came to the nearest
inn. The inn-keeper opened the door and asked him with astonishment
where he came from at that early hour. So the merchant told him his
experiences and inquired as to the sort of place at which he had spent
the night. The inn-keeper shook his head: "The whole neighborhood is
covered with old battlefields," was his reply, "and all sorts of
supernatural things take place on them after dark."
Note: This tale is taken from the Sin Tsi Hia.
LVI
THE KINGDOM OF THE OGRES