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it cloud-crawling,’ said the Patriarch laughing. “The old saying runs, “An Immortal wanders in the morning to the Northern Sea and the same evening he is in Ts’ang-wu.” To take as long as you did to go a mere league or two hardly counts even as cloud-crawling.’
    ‘What is meant by that saying about the Northern Sea and Ts’ang-wu ?’ asked Monkey.
    ‘A real cloud-soarer,’ said the Patriarch, ‘can start early in the morning from the Northern Sea, cross the Eastern Sea, the Western Sea, and the Southern Sea, and land again at Ts’ang-wu. Ts’ang-wu means Ling-ling, in the Northern Sea. To do the round of all four seas in one day is true cloud-soaring.’
    ‘It sounds very difficult,’ said Monkey.
    ‘Nothing in the world is difficult,’ said the Patriarch, ‘it is only our own thoughts that make things seem so.’
    ‘Master,’ said Monkey, prostrating himself, ‘you may as well make a good job of me. While you’re about it, do me a real kindness and teach me the art of cloud-soaring. I shall never forget how much I owe to you.’
    ‘When the Immortals go cloud-soaring,’ said the Patriarch, ‘they sit cross-legged and rise straight from that position. You do nothing of the kind. I saw you just now put your feet together and jump. I must really take this, opportunity of teaching you how to do it properly. You shall learn the Cloud Trapeze.’ He then taught him the magic formula, saying, ‘Make the pass, recite the spell, clench your fists, and one leap will carry you head over heels a hundred and eight thousand leagues.’
    When the other pupils heard this, they all tittered, saying,‘Monkey is in luck. If he learns this trick, he will be able to carry dispatches, deliver letters, take round circulars – one way or another he will always be able to pick up a living!’
    It was now late. Master and pupils all went to their quarters; but Monkey spent all night practising the Cloud Trapeze, and by the time day came he had completely mastered it, and could wander through space where he would.
    One summer day when the disciples had for some time been studying their tasks under a pine-tree, one of them said, ‘Monkey, what can you have done in a former incarnation to merit that the Master should the other day have whispered in your ear the secret formula for avoiding the three calamities? Have you mastered all those transformations ?’
    ‘To tell you the truth,’ said Monkey, ‘although of course I am much indebted to the Master for his instruction, I have also been working very hard day and night on my own, and I can now do them all.’
    ‘Wouldn’t this be a good opportunity,’ said one of the pupils,’ to give us a little demonstration ?’
    When Monkey heard this, he was all on his mettle to display his powers. ‘Give me my subject,’ he said. ‘What am I to change into?’
    ‘How about a pine-tree ?’ they said.
    He made a magic pass, recited a spell, shook himself, and changed into a pine-tree.
    The disciples clapped and burst into loud applause. ‘Bravo, Monkey, bravo,’ they cried. There was such a din that the Patriarch came running out with his staff trailing after him.
    ‘Who’s making all this noise ?’ he asked.
    The disciples at once controlled themselves, smoothed down their dresses, and came meekly forward. Monkey changed himself back into his true form and slipped in among the crowd, saying, ‘Reverend Master, we are doing our lessons out here. I assure you there was no noise in particular.’
    ‘You were all bawling,’ said the Patriarch angrily. ‘It didn’t sound in the least like people studying. I want to know what you were doing here, shouting and laughing.’
    ‘To tell the truth,’ said someone,’ Monkey was showing us a transformation just for fun. We told him to change into apine-tree, and he did it so well that we were all applauding him. That was the noise you heard. I hope you will forgive us.’
    ‘Go away, all of you I’ the Patriarch