Necklace and Calabash

When Judge Dee had ridden for another hour through the hushed, dripping forest he halted his horse and cast a worried look at the dense foliage overhead. He could see only a small patch of the leaden sky. The drizzle might change into a summer shower any time; his black cap and black-bordered brown travelling-robe were wet already, and moisture glistened on his long beard and side­whiskers. When he had left the village at noon he had been told that if he took a right turn at each fork in the road through the forest he would arrive in Rivertown in ample time for the even­ing rice. He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, for he estimated he had been riding for about four hours now, seeing nothing but the tall trees and the thick undergrowth, and meet­ing no one. The birds had stopped singing in the black branches, and the odour of wet, rotting leaves seemed to cling to his very clothes. Wiping his beard and whiskers with the tip of his neck­cloth, he reflected dismally that it would be awkward if he were really lost, for dusk was falling and the forest spread for miles on end along the south bank of the river. The chances were that he would have to spend the night out in the open. With a sigh he uncorked the large brown calabash hanging by a red-tasselled cord from his saddle, and took a draught. The water was luke­warm and tasted stale.

He bent his head and wiped his eyes. The sweat from his moist brow was hurting them. When he looked up he suddenly stiffened, and stared, incredulous, at the hulking shape riding towards him on a horse that trod noiselessly on the soft moss. His perfect double: a man with a long beard and whiskers, wearing a square black cap and a black-bordered brown travelling-robe. Hanging from his saddle by a red-tasselled cord was a large brown calabash.

Again he rubbed his eyes. When he looked a second time he sighed with relief. The uncertain light and his sore eyes had de­ceived him. The other's beard and whiskers were streaked with grey, and he rode an old, long-eared donkey. Then the judge was on the alert again. Two short pikes were lying across the donkey's rump. His hand moved to the hilt of the sword hanging on his back.

The man pulled up in front of Judge Dee's horse and glared at him, a brooding glint in his large eyes. His broad face was wrinkled, and though he carried himself well his bony shoulders stood out under the worn, patched robe. What the judge had taken to be pikes now proved to be a pair of crutches with crooked ends. He let go of his sword and asked politely:

'Is this the road to Rivertown, venerable sir?'

The other did not reply at once. His eyes had strayed to the calabash hanging from Judge Dee's saddle. Then he smiled. Fixing the judge with his strange, lacklustre eyes, he said in a surpris­ingly sonorous voice:

'Yes, eventually it'll take you to Rivertown, Doctor. By a detour.'

The old man was taking him for a physician, evidently because the judge was travelling all alone, and because of the gourd, which is commonly used by doctors to carry their potions. Before he could set the other right, he had resumed:

'I just left town by the short cut, a little further on. I'll gladly show you the way, for it'll take only a quarter of an hour.' Turning his donkey round, he muttered, 'We'd better see about the man they found in the river. He might need your attention, Doctor.'

Judge Dee was going to say that he was the Magistrate of Poo-yang, the district in the northern part of the province, but he reflected that he would then have to explain at length to his casual acquaintance why he was travelling in such simple attire, and without official retinue. So instead he just asked:

'What is your honourable profession, sir?'

'I have none. I am just a vagrant monk. Of the Taoist creed.'

'I see. I had taken' you for a colleague. What have you got in that calabash?'

'Emptiness, sir. Just emptiness. More valuable than any potion you might carry in yours, Doctor! No offence meant, of course. Emptiness is more important than fullness. You may choose the finest clay for making a beautiful jar, but without its emptiness that jar would be of no use. And however ornate you make a door or window, without their emptiness they could not be used.' He drove his donkey on with a click of his tongue, then added, as an afterthought, 'They call me Master Gourd.'

The fact that the other was a Taoist monk, and therefore in­different to all normal civilities, absolved the judge completely from telling him his real name and profession. He asked:

'What were you saying about a person found in the river?'

'When I was leaving town I heard that a man had been brought ashore by two fishermen. This is the short cut. I'll ride in front.'

The narrow forest path led to a cultivated field where, hunched in his straw raincoat, a farmer was digging up weeds. A muddy track took them to the road that ran along the riverfront. The drizzle had stopped, and now a thin mist was hovering over the wide expanse of brown water. Not a breeze stirred in the hot, damp air that weighed down from the low sky. Neat-looking houses lined the road, and the passers-by were well dressed. There wasn't a single beggar about.

'Looks like a prosperous town,' the judge remarked.

'It's a small town, but it profits from the traffic on the river, the good fishing, and the custom from the Water Palace. That's one of the imperial detached palaces, to the east of the town, over on the other side of the pine forest. This western part of the town is the poorer section. The well-to-do live in the east quarter, be­yond the fish-market over there. I'll show you the two best inns, the Kingfisher and the Nine Clouds. Unless you are planning to stay with a relative or friend... .'

'No, I am a stranger here, just passing through. I see you carry a pair of crutches. What's wrong with your legs?'

'One is lame, and the other isn't too good either. Nothing you could do anything about, Doctor! Well well, the authorities are on the spot. Alert as ever! That means that the man they fished out of the river won't need your assistance, Doctor! But let's have a look anyway.'

On the broad quay in front of the fish-market, by the ferry-house, a small crowd had gathered. Over their heads the judge saw the erect figure of a horseman. The gilt, red-plumed helmet and red neckcloth proclaimed him a captain of the Imperial Guard.

Master Gourd grasped his crutches, climbed down from his donkey and hobbled towards the crowd. The donkey let one ear hang down, and began to search for scraps of garbage among the cobble-stones. Judge Dee alighted from his horse and followed the old monk. The onlookers made way for him; they seemed to know him well.