him that, soon before she
gave birth to him, she had seen her child travelling to the Far West
in search of the Law. He was himself haunted by similar visions, and
having long surrendered worldly desires, he resolved to brave all
dangers, and to risk his life for the only object for which he thought
it worth while to live. He proceeded to the Yellow River, the
Hoang-ho, and to the place where the caravans bound for India used to
meet, and, though the Governor had sent strict orders not to allow any
one to cross the frontier, the young priest, with the assistance of
his co-religionists, succeeded in escaping the vigilance of the
Chinese 'douaniers.' Spies were sent after him. But so frank was his
avowal, and so firm his resolution, which he expressed in the presence
of the authorities, that the Governor himself tore his hue and cry to
pieces, and allowed him to proceed. Hitherto he had been accompanied
by two friends. They now left him, and Hiouen-thsang found himself
alone, without a friend and without a guide. He sought for strength in
fervent prayer. The next morning a person presented himself, offering
his services as a guide. This guide conducted him safely for some
distance, but left him when they approached the desert. There were
still five watch-towers to be passed, and there was nothing to
indicate the road through the desert, except the hoof-marks of horses,
and skeletons. The traveller followed this melancholy track, and,
though misled by the 'mirage' of the desert, he reached the first
tower. Here the arrows of the watchmen would have put an end to his
existence and his cherished expedition. But the officer in command,
himself a zealous Buddhist, allowed the courageous pilgrim to proceed,
and gave him letters of recommendation to the officers of the next
towers. The last tower, however, was guarded by men inaccessible to
bribes, and deaf to reasoning. In order to escape their notice,
Hiouen-thsang had to make a long detour. He passed through another
desert, and lost his way. The bag in which he carried his water burst,
and then even the courage of Hiouen-thsang failed. He began to retrace
his steps. But suddenly he stopped. 'I took an oath,' he said, 'never
to make a step backward till I had reached India. Why, then, have I
come here? It is better I should die proceeding to the West than
return to the East and live.' Four nights and five days he travelled
through the desert without a drop of water. He had noth