大唐故三藏玄奘法師行狀 1.2.1

1.2.1

In the third year of Zhenguan, about to set out on his journey, he again sought an auspicious response. He then dreamed at night that in the midst of a great ocean there was Mount Sumeru, exceedingly splendid and magnificent. He wished to climb the mountain, but the surging billows were tossing wildly. Feeling no fear, he resolved to enter. Suddenly he saw lotus flowers spring up from the waves, arising wherever his feet fell. In a moment he reached the mountain, yet it was steep and precipitous, impossible to climb. He leapt upward, and a whirlwind supported and carried him aloft. Arriving at the peak, he looked around in all four directions, finding it completely open and without obstruction. He awoke with joy, and thereupon set forth. He was twenty-nine years old at the time. At that time there was a monk from Qinchuan named Xiaoda who, having completed his studies in the capital, was returning to his hometown. The Dharma Master traveled with him, and journeying stage by stage, they arrived at Guazhou. Inquiring about the conditions of the western road, everyone said: 'The Drifting Sands have no paths; travelers mostly band together, taking ox and horse dung as well as skeletal remains as markers. When fierce winds stir the sand, even the skeletons are buried level. Moreover, winds often stir up demons and sprites of all kinds. For more than eight hundred li east to west, anyone wishing to travel alone can never reach [the destination].' Hearing this, he felt sorrow and vexation, not knowing what strategy to take. He then worshipped the Buddha and prayed, wishing to find a person to guide him across the pass—namely, Yumen Pass. The pass borders the Hulu River. A hundred li west of the pass there is a beacon tower, and beneath the beacon tower there is water. In all there are five beacon towers; beyond the five beacon towers, there are no more garrisons and patrols—it is all vast desert. He then found a barbarian (Hu) who agreed to escort him across the pass. When the time came, the man backed out, but [Xuanzang] pressed him strongly, and so they set out. At night they reached the river, more than ten li from the pass. At the upper reaches there were desert poplars (*Populus euphratica*); the barbarian felled trees to make a bridge, spread grass, and filled it with sand to drive the horse across. Having crossed the river, they were exceedingly joyful, and each laid down his mat to sleep. At midnight, the barbarian arose, drew his knife, and walked toward the Dharma Master wishing to slaughter him. The Dharma Master immediately arose, recollected the Buddha, and recited sūtras. The barbarian sat back down. A short while later he arose again and said to the Dharma Master: 'Under the state's laws, secretly traveling to foreign lands carries an exceedingly heavy penalty. On the road past the five beacon towers, traveling beneath them will surely get you caught; there is no escaping it. Being captured at just one place means death! I have family obligations; how could I bear it? The king's law must not be transgressed—let us return together, Master.' The Dharma Master replied: 'Xuanzang can only die facing west; I vow never to live by returning east. If the benefactor cannot go on, he is free to return; Xuanzang will go alone.' The barbarian said: 'If the Master is caught, you will inevitably implicate me, and in the end I will not escape punishment.' The Dharma Master made a solemn oath for him: 'Even if my body is shattered to dust, I will never implicate you!' He pointed to heaven and earth, stars and moon, repeating his words. The barbarian then bid farewell to the Dharma Master, gave him a horse, and departed. Thereupon he set out by night and reached the first beacon tower. As he was watering his horse by the water, in a short while, arrows flew thick and fast, almost striking his knee. Realizing he had been detected, he quickly went toward them. The men atop the beacon tower held torches and asked: 'Who are you, and where do you wish to go?' He then removed his cap to reveal his monastic robes and replied: 'I come from the capital, wishing to seek the Dharma in the Brāhmaṇa country.' The men took him up to the beacon tower to see the commandant. The commandant questioned and reproached him severely. The Dharma Master recounted the purpose of his journey in detail, his tears falling along with his voice. The commandant, moved to pity, also shed tears and said: 'If the Master is capable of this, you are free to go. If your wish is fulfilled, it will also benefit the state. For now, Master, please rest.' Thereupon he lodged him. At dawn, he prepared food for him, further gave him roasted-grain provisions, and personally escorted him for more than ten li, saying: 'Master, do not pass by the other beacon towers. Beyond the fifth beacon tower is the Wild Horse Spring (Yemaquan); you can draw more water there and continue.' The Dharma Master passed beyond the fifth beacon tower and encountered a great sandstorm, losing track of where the spring was. As daylight faded, he stopped beside a sand gully and took down his water skin wishing to drink. The horse pack was heavy, his hand slipped, and it overturned; he obtained barely a single drink, while all the rest was spilled and lost. His provisions for a thousand li were exhausted in an instant. How could his distress even be expressed? After the third watch he set out again, knowing no road, only advancing by looking northwest toward the stars and moon. By the afternoon of the next day, he was already severely parched. Although he had roasted grain cakes, they were too dry to eat. For four nights and five days like this, not a single drop moistened his throat. Both man and horse were utterly exhausted and could no longer walk; he then lay down in the sand, silently recollecting Avalokiteśvara, unable to speak, his breath almost expired. On the fifth night, a cool wind suddenly blew, extraordinarily refreshing and cold. His body revived to consciousness, and the horse was also able to stand. He forced himself to walk for more than twenty li, but lay down again, unable to go on. He dreamed of a great spirit who said to him: 'Strive on! Why are you lying down again?' Thereupon he arose again. The horse suddenly took a different path and could not be turned back. Traveling about ten li, he came upon a pool, clear, cold, and transparent. He was overjoyed. He watered the horse, washed and rinsed himself, and took chopped straw and roasted grain to feed the horse. Beside the pool there was also green grass. By dawn, the horse was strong again, and the man also felt restored. He rested beside the water for another day and night. On the following day, having filled up with water, he gradually advanced. Passing three more days, he finally reached Yiwu. Beyond the northern quadrant of the Drifting Sands, he again encountered demons and spirits, several kinds every day; he was so exhausted and beset with hardships that they can hardly be recorded. Having arrived in Yiwu, he met an envoy from Gaochang, who returned and reported the Dharma Master's intentions to his king. The king was greatly pleased and sent men with camels to welcome him. Arriving in Gaochang, they met with both sorrow and joy. The king wished to detain the Dharma Master and would not permit him to go west. The Dharma Master then fasted for four days to move him deeply. The king's mind was also changed; the Queen Mother wished to form a mother-and-son bond, and the king wished to become brothers, saying that if he agreed, the Master would be free to depart. The Dharma Master agreed. The king joyfully requested him to lecture on the Kāruṇikarāja Sūtra, ordained four novices for him, and made dozens of sets of Dharma robes. He dispatched high officials with saddled horses and doubled the porters to escort him. He also composed twenty-four letters to various states such as that of the Turk Yabghu Qaghan, accompanied by more than five hundred bolts of damask and raw silk, ordering them to escort him from stage to stage, stating: 'This Dharma Master is my younger brother.'