Tales of a Chinese Grandmother Read online

  "We come to the table to eat, not to carve," Grandmother Ling would say when someone told her of the queer customs of other lands, where people used knives and forks. So all the food of this household was cut up into small pieces before it was set on the table. Grandmother Ling used her own little chopsticks of ivory and silver like a pair of tongs. She picked up her food daintily and she popped it into her mouth without losing a grain of rice or a drop of good sauce.

  Ah Shung and Yu Lang ate quickly. Their chopsticks of bamboo flew back and forth between their bowls and their mouths. They ate a great deal at breakfast, as well as at midday and in the evening. At four in the afternoon they had an extra meal of tea and steaming hot dumplings. Grandmother Ling would have thought they were ill if they had not stuffed themselves full or if they had laid down their chopsticks before their rice bowls were empty.

  The Old Old One often had special food served to her in order to give her the strength she needed in her old age. She liked swallow's-nest soup, flavored with the sticky gum with which these birds put their nests together. She sometimes had a stew made from a certain kind of chicken whose bones were black as coal. Into this stew she liked to sift some powdered deer's horn which she thought an excellent tonic. White peony root, chopped very fine and cooked with the chicken, made it even better. As a relish she often ate pickled eggs, that had been kept so many years that they had turned to black jelly; and the tea with which she quenched her thirst was flavored with jasmine flowers.

  Nothing was too fine for the Old Mistress. She came first with everyone inside the red gate. Since their father was dead, her grown-up sons asked her advice about everything they did, and they even received their spending money from her. Grandmother Ling had as much to do with the children as their own mothers. They learned more in the hours they spent at her side than they did in the schoolroom.

  Ah Shung and Yu Lang were very fond of their grandmother. No one knew so many splendid stories as she. When she was a child her father had had her taught to read and to write just like her brothers. With her soft rabbit-hair brush and the sweet-smelling black paste upon her ink stone she could make even more beautiful Chinese words than Scholar Shih, who was now teaching the children to write. She could read from the paper books, with their delicate covers and their soft pages filled with up-and-down rows of strange black word pictures.

  After their evening meal the Lings sat for a time drinking bowls of hot liquid which had the same delicate color as a yellow-green bamboo leaf. This was their tea, which they took instead of water.

  "We are to go into Lao Lao's room tonight," Ah Shung said to his sister and cousins as he emptied his tea bowl. The boy's black eyes glistened. He liked nothing better than the family gatherings in his grandmother's apartment when often poems were read and stories were told.

  Grandmother Ling knew many tales about dragons and unicorns, about firebirds, or phoenixes, that were born in the sun, and the Heavenly Dog that tried to swallow the moon. She knew about spirits that ruled the wind and the water. She knew about foxes that turned into people, and about the Jade Rabbit that dwelt in the moon. Gods that flew up to heaven, men who lived forever, and beautiful maidens from the Heavenly Kingdom were found in her stories.

  In the days when Ah Shung and Yu Lang dwelt inside the red gate of the Lings', the Chinese people really believed in spirits and gods and such fairy-tale creatures. Even today many Chinese are not sure that they do not exist. Lao Lao, who told these strange stories, and these children, who listened, had never a doubt but that they were true.

  II

  HOW PAN KU MADE THE WORLD

  YOU MAY OFFER my guests ginger, Ah Shung, and you may offer sugared lotus seed, Yu Lang," Grandmother Ling said to the children when the family gathered in her room after the evening meal. Huang Ying, the old woman's favorite maid servant, went to a tall mahogany cabinet that stood against the wall, and from its carved wooden shelf she lifted down a small blue-and-white bowl which she put into the boy's hands. She gave to Yu Lang a china jar with a scene on its sides done in all the five colors: red, yellow, blue, black, and white.

  The children held these out politely in both their hands. They bowed as they offered them to the Old Old One, who sat very straight in her great chair of carved polished wood. Then they bowed before the other grownups, who selected bits of orange-colored ginger and some sugary seeds with their thin yellow fingers.

  The men in their long gowns of dark silk were seated near their wives, with little tables beside them, the eldest having places of honor nearest Lao Lao. With their shining black hair coiled so neatly upon their necks, with their smooth faces so carefully tinted with red and white powder, and with their gowns of fine silk and embroidery, the younger women looked like the delicate figures on Lao Lao's best summer fan.

  Across the back of this room, framed in carved wood, was Grandmother Ling's brick bed under which a fire burned. Her soft silken comforters were piled upon it out of the way in the corner, and the green curtains that hung from under its canopy were pushed aside. Upon the warm floor of the bed sat some of the other children with their feet tucked beneath them. They greeted the ginger and the lotus seeds with the broadest of smiles, but they took care not to seem to be in a hurry to take them lest they should be thought impolite.

  "It is the hour for our Little Dragon to go to sleep," said Grandmother Ling. She looked toward the small boy whose name, Lung-Er, had been given him in the hope that he would grow up to be as strong and as good as a mighty dragon. Also, when they heard this name the bad spirits might think he was not a child at all but a young dragon whom they would not dare to carry away.

  Lung-Er was only three years old. He was the youngest of all the Ling children and the pet of everyone, big and little, inside the red gate. Around his neck he wore a silver chain fastened with a silver lock, bought with coins given by one hundred friends of the family. The Lings firmly believed this would chain him to earth. A red string was twined in his tiny black braid to bring him good luck.

  The little boy was bundled up in thick padded clothing. In his outer suit of gay red he looked just like the fat top that Ah Shung often spun on the hard floor of his room. Everyone laughed as Lung-Er stood before his grandmother and made such a low bow that he almost toppled over.

  "He grows," said Grandmother Ling, smiling, as his nurse took the child away. "He grows almost as fast as Pan Ku, who made the world."

  Ah Shung and Yu Lang hurried to bring their stools close to their grandmother's chair. They looked up into her face with such eager expressions that the old woman laughed.

  "Ho, these two want a story about the mighty Pan Ku! Well, it will do no harm for us to hear that tale once again," she said as she wiped the sugar from her wrinkled fingers on a damp towel which Huang Ying held for her.

  "Once long, long ago," she began, "there was no world. But from somewhere or other there came this man called Pan Ku. With his hammer and a cutting tool, called a "chisel," he began to make the earth. Each day Pan Ku grew six feet in height. The earth grew just as fast. With his head Pan Ku pushed the sky farther and farther away. He made the earth larger and larger.

  "From out of the sky four beasts came to help him. There was the good unicorn with his single great horn growing out of his forehead and his hairy hide with all the five colors upon it. His body was shaped like a deer's, but his hoofs were those of a horse. His tail was like that of an ox, and his horn was tipped with a tuft of soft flesh.

  "And there was the phoenix, the king of the birds, who came from the sun. On his body, too, there were all the five colors, and his tail had twelve feathers, one for each moon of the year. Such long feathers they were that they trailed far behind him as he flew through the air.

  "The great tortoise that lived for thousands of years also aided Pan Ku. But best of all there was a dragon so huge that he could reach all the way across the broad sky. Pan Ku's dragon may have looked like those that are carved upon my bed."

  The children examine
d anew the carved wooden dragons that served as legs for the frame of the Old Old One's bed. Each of the twisting creatures had a head like a cow, the body of a serpent, scales like a fish, feet round as a tiger's paw, and claws like an eagle's. Two short horns were on its head, and its eyes popped from their sockets. Its wide mouth was open, and a slender tongue was thrust out between its long fangs.

  "What did Pan Ku look like, Lao Lao?" Ah Shung asked as his grandmother paused for a moment. In reply the old woman sent her maid, Huang Ying, to bring a scroll from the carved cabinet.

  "Here is Pan Ku," Grandmother Ling said as she unrolled the strip of silk and paper that was wound about a shiny black stick. "This is an old painting that belonged to your grandfather. How long it has been in the Ling treasure chests nobody knows."

  Everyone gathered about as the old picture was spread out on the floor and weights were laid on its corners. Strangely enough, this Pan Ku was not tall, but Lao Lao explained that the artist might have been showing him before he began to grow so quickly. Two little horns were set upon his wrinkled brow, and an apron of green leaves was his only garment. In one hand he carried his hammer and in the other his chisel. And near by, at his feet, were his helpers, the unicorn and the dragon, the phoenix and the tortoise.

  "Nothing that is done hastily is well done, my children. So it is not at all strange that it took Pan Ku eighteen thousand years to finish making the world. " Grandmother Ling went on with her story. "But at last the sky was round and the earth was ready. There was no living thing on it, however, until Pan Ku died and his spirit flew away to the Heavenly Kingdom. He gave life to the world. His head became its high mountains. His breath became the winds that blew over it and the clouds that crossed the sky. His voice rolled in the thunder. The blood in his veins turned into rivers, his flesh made the fields, and his skin and his hair made the plants and the trees. His eyes became stars, and his sweat made the rain. Tiny insects that crawled upon his great body were changed into live men and women. And so the world began."

  "What about the sun and the moon, Aged and Honorable Mother?" Ah Shung's father inquired. He had heard this story many times, but he enjoyed watching the wondering faces of the younger children who listened so eagerly.

  "Oh, the sun and the moon," the old woman said. "Like Pan Ku, I forgot them. Pan Ku neglected to set them in the sky where they belonged. The earth was in darkness. There was no day. There was no night. The emperor who ruled the first people tried to summon the sun and the moon from under the sea where they were hiding. He sent a messenger to them. But no ray of light broke through the darkness.

  "There was nothing to do but to call Pan Ku back from the Heavenly Kingdom. Upon the palm of his left hand he drew the sign of the sun, and upon the palm of his right hand he marked the sign of the moon. In turn he stretched his hands out toward the sea. Seven times he called the sun and moon to come forth. He commanded them to take their places up in the sky. Even the sun and the moon could not disobey the mighty Pan Ku. In chariots drawn by strong dragons they rose from the water. Light flooded the heavens, and day and night came to the world.

  "I have heard it told that Pan Ku appeared upon the earth once again," said Grandmother Ling. "For many hundreds of years his spirit had no home in the other world. Like all poor homeless spirits, it rode hither and yon upon the strong winds. Then at last it came upon a woman who dwelt on a mountain so high that it was only a step from its top to the Heavenly Kingdom. This woman was a remarkable creature who filled her stomach with clouds and who quenched her thirst with the light from the sun and the moon.

  "Well, the spirit of Pan Ku chose to enter the body of this woman's baby. As I heard the tale, her wonderful child could stand up and walk about and speak words of wisdom from the very first moment at which he entered the world. Wherever he went a five-colored cloud floated around him.

  "When he grew old again Pan Ku took refuge upon the high Eastern Mountain. As he sat at the door of his cave in the rocks the five-colored clouds still hung over his head. Because of his great age and because of his wisdom, pilgrims came from afar to hear his good words. It was the old god of that Eastern Mountain who found out who he was. He made a special journey to visit the Emperor of Heaven, and from him he learned that the wise hermit of the Eastern Mountain was really Pan Ku, who made the world with his hammer and chisel in the very beginning."

  III

  THE SISTERS IN THE SUN

  AS GRANDMOTHER LING finished the story of Pan Ku she called for her water pipe. Her maid, Huang Ying, fetched the pipe and set it down on a low stool beside the Old Mistress. She lighted the tobacco in its little bowl. The Old Old One drew in her breath. She liked the taste of the tobacco smoke that passed through the water in the body of the pipe on its way to her mouth.

  "Who lives in the sun, Lao Lao?" Ah Shung asked his grandmother as she puffed away at her pipe.

  "No one knows but the gods in the sky, Little Bear," the old woman replied. "Some say it is a golden raven, and that that is why our sign for the sun is that bird inside a circle. But the sun is not like the moon, my children. We can sometimes see the people who live in the moon. You yourself have seen the Moon Rabbit and the toad on the moon's face. And I have often thought I could see the Moon Lady, Heng O. But who can look at the sun? Ai, there is a tale about that. Would you like to hear it?" Grandmother Ling looked about the circle. Everyone was listening to her with the greatest of interest.

  "Ah, Excellent One of Great Age and Wisdom," her oldest son said, "brighten our dark minds with the light of your learning. Tell us more."

  "Well then, my old nurse used to say that in ancient days a young man lived in the sun, while his two younger sisters dwelt in the moon. The two maidens were beautiful, more beautiful even than the fairest blooms in our garden. Slender as the bamboo they were, and as graceful as willow branches swayed by the breeze. Their faces were shaped like the oval seed of a melon, and the black of their eyes was circled with white as pure as new snow. Their eyebrows were like the clear outline of some distant mountain, and their feet were as small as the buds of the lily.

  "These two sisters were clever with the embroidery needle. With their thin pointed fingers they stitched the flowers and the dragons, the birds and the butterflies, that adorned their silk robes. They covered each of their tiny shoes with twenty thousand fine stitches. All night they could be seen in their palace garden, stitching away by the light of the moon.

  All night the two sisters could be seen in their palace garden, stitching away by the light of the moon

  "The fame of the beauty of the sisters in the moon spread over the land. Each clear night people gathered in their gardens and climbed the high mountains to gaze up at the moon for a sight of their loveliness. From their palace in the sky the moon sisters could see clearly what went on upon the earth so far down below them.

  "Now these sisters knew well the rules for maidenly conduct. Like all Chinese girls they had been taught that it was not fitting that men should gaze upon them. Each night, as more and more people stared up at the moon, they became more and more unhappy.

  "'We cannot stay here, my sister,' said one of the moon maidens at last.

  "'I have thought of a plan,' said the other as she embroidered the tail of a dragon on the front of her new robe. 'We shall go away from here. We shall change homes with our brother. He shall live here in the moon and we shall take his place in the sun.'

  "The moon maidens put on their handsomest red robes and went to seek help from their brother in the sun.

  "'O Venerable Brother,' they said when they came to his shining palace, 'we are in great trouble and only you can help us. Each night, down on earth, people gaze up at the moon and their eyes fall upon us. That should not be. We are very unhappy.'

  "The brother who lived in the sun was as distressed as his sisters, but he laughed when they told him they wished to live in the sun.

  "'Silly creatures,' he scoffed, 'in the daytime when the sun shines in the sky there are a
hundred times more people abroad than there are in the night, when the moon can be seen. You will have more eyes than ever upon you if you change places with me.'

  "'Ai-yah, Honorable Brother,' they cried, 'if you will but change with us, indeed all will be well. Into our unworthy minds the gods have sent a plan which we are sure will succeed.'

  "The maidens wept. The brother was fond of his sisters and at last he agreed to change places with them. He left his palace in the sun and took up his abode in the moon. Joyfully the sisters gathered together their beautiful robes and their other belongings. They did not forget to pack in a shining red chest their embroidery silks and their seventy needles. In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea they were comfortably settled in the sun palace.

  "Down on the earth when men could no longer see the sisters in the moon, they wondered. 'The moon princesses have disappeared!' they exclaimed. 'A man sits there in their place. Where can they have gone?' Then somehow or other the word went around that the beautiful maidens now lived in the sun.

  "But the sisters' plan worked. They were safe at last from the eyes of the people on earth. For as soon as anyone turned his gaze full on the sun he felt tiny pricking pains in his eyes. Some said that it was only the strong rays of the sun. But my nurse always declared that it was the seventy embroidery needles of the two beautiful sisters, who pricked the eyes of any person who was so bold as to stare at them."

  Ah Shung and Yu Lang looked at each other. Only that day they had dared each other to gaze straight at the sun. They had found out for themselves what the pricking of the sun sisters' needles felt like in their eyes.

  "Ai, the sun is our friend," Grandmother Ling told her grandchildren between her puffs at her bubbling water pipe. "I remember one time when the Heavenly Dog almost ate the sun up. How frightened we were! I was about the age of Yu Lang when it happened, but I can still see it all with the mirror of my mind."