t on grumbling.

Before long the Taoist boys were back in their room, and they heard Pig moaning, “I didn’t enjoy my manfruit; I wish I could have another.” Pure Wind’s suspicion were aroused, and he said to Bright Moon, “Did you hear that long-snouted monk saying he wished he could have another manfruit? Our master told us when he went that we were to be careful of those gangsters and not let them steal our treasures.”

“This is terrible, terrible,” said Bright Moon. “What’s the golden rod doing on the floor? We’d better go into the garden and take a look around.” The two of them hurried out and found the garden gates open.

“We shut this gate,” said Pure Wind, “so why is it open?” They rushed round the flower garden, found the vegetable garden gate open too, and tore into the manfruit garden. They leant on the tree and looked up into it to count the fruit, but however often they added the number up, it always came to twenty-two.

“Can you do arithmetic?” Bright Moon asked, and Pure Wind replied, “Yes. Tell me the figures.”

“There were originally thirty manfruits,” said Bright Moon. “When our master opened the garden two were divided up and eaten, which left twenty-eight. Just now we knocked two down to give the Tang Priest, which left twenty-six. But there are only twenty-two now, which means that we’re four short. It goes without saying that those bad men must have stolen them. Let’s go and tell that Tang Priest what we think of him.”

The two of them went from the garden to the front hall, where they pointed at Sanzang and poured the most filthy and stinking abuse on him, calling him “baldy” this and “baldy” that. It was more than Sanzang could stand, so he said, “What are you making all this fuss about, Immortal boys? Please stop. I wouldn’t mind you being a bit offhand with me, but you can’t talk in this outrageous way.”

“Are you deaf?” Pure Wind asked. “We’re not talking a foreign language, and you can understand us perfectly well. You’ve stolen our manfruit, and you’ve no right to forbid us to mention it.”

“What does manfruit look like?” Sanzang asked.

“It’s what we offered you just now and you said looked like babies.”

“Amitabha Buddha!” Sanzang exclaimed. “I shook with terror at the very sight of them—I couldn’t possibly steal one. Even if I were being racked by the most terrible greed, I could never commit the crime of eating one of those. What do you mean by making so unjust an accusation?”

“Although you didn’t eat any,” said Pure Wind, “those underlings of yours stole and ate some.”

“Even if they did, you shouldn’t shout like that. Wait till I’ve questioned them. If they stole some, I’ll see that they make it up to you.”

“Make it up?” said Bright Moon. “They are things that money can’t buy.”

“Well then,” said Sanzang, “if money won’t buy them, ‘decent behavior is worth a thousand pieces of gold,’ as the saying goes. I’ll make them apologize to you, and that will be that. Besides, we still don’t know whether they did it.”

“Of course they did,” retorted Bright Moon. “They’re still quarrelling in there because they were divided unfairly.”

“Come here, disciples,” called Sanzang.

“We’ve had it,” said Friar Sand when he heard Sanzang calling. “The game’s up. Our master is calling us and the young Taoists are swearing and cursing. The cat must be out of the bag.”

“How disgraceful,” said Monkey, “all that fuss about some food. But if we confess it, they’ll say it was stealing food; the best thing is not to admit it at all.”

“Quite right, quite right, we’ll cover it up,” said Pig, and three of them went from the kitchen to the hall.

If you don’t know how they denied it, listen to the explanation in the next installment.