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the surface of the pool, looking, but there was no sign of him. Should they call for assistance? Would anyone believe them if they said a huge black stranger had washed in the pool and then disappeared without trace? A third minute passed and they began to wonder if he had existed at all. A chill of fear took hold of them. Had it been a demon after all, who would drag them under too?

      Suddenly the water exploded around them and a giant shape rose in their midst. The stranger seized one of them and raised him high above the water. It was the boy who had snorted. Now he was shrieking with fear. The demon spun him in the air, round and round, until the boy began to laugh uncontrollably. The others grew bolder and began to splash the stranger, shouting at him to put their companion down.

      “You want me to put him down?” he roared.

      “Put him down! Put him down!”

      The boy was hurtled through the air and landed in the middle of the pool. The others jumped at Bodhidharma. He threw them, one by one, until the commotion began to attract the attention of other monks nearby. Then he settled in the cool water to relax. The novices gathered around to speak with the strange monk from the south who was so unlike their usual teachers.

      Soon, they were joined by another equally strange monk. Vanya’s skeletal form shivered uncontrollably as he removed his robe and entered the cool water.

      “I have some good news for you, Master,” he smiled as he sat beside Bodhidharma. “I have discovered the whereabouts of Nanjing.”

      “You have?”

      “Yes, and I know what you did not tell me. You are traveling to China.”

      “I told you it was far.”

      “You did, and now your journey will be shorter because I will be traveling with you.”

      “You think you can cross the Himalayas on these skinny legs?” Bodhidharma said, gripping Vanya’s thigh and squeezing until Vanya winced in pain.

      “These legs have walked the length and breadth of Magadha,” he said indignantly, puffing his chest out as far as it would go. “I have not always been a hermit, you know. I was once a great hunter, a warrior, like yourself.”

      “Vanya,” Bodhidharma sighed, “I’ll be leaving soon. You’re too weak to travel with me.”

      “Who says I’m weak?” he shouted, “I’m as strong as a tiger.” He jumped up from the shallows and threw wild punches, roaring and grimacing. Bodhidharma watched unmoved.

      “You don’t react very quickly for a warrior,” Vanya said, panting from the exertion.

      “I only react to a threat,” Bodhidharma said gravely.

      “You were very lucky, Lord,” Vanya said, shaking his head at the thought of the damage he could have inflicted. When he turned to sit down again in the water, Bodhidharma scooped him up and held him high in the air. Vanya roared his defiance but it was no use, and the next moment he was flying through the air.

      He emerged from the water with a curse and sat apart from Bodhidharma.

      “If you really want to travel with me, you need to make yourself strong,” Bodhidharma said from across the pool.

      Vanya scowled. “I am strong,” he said half-heartedly.

      “If you can climb to the top of the stupa, then you are strong. Do it before I leave and you can come with me. If you can’t, I’ll ask The Venerable Ananda if you can stay here and study in Nalanda. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

      “It was, but not any more. Now I want to follow you.”

      “Why?” Bodhidharma demanded.

      “I wish to know my own nature, as you do.”

      “You can learn that in Nalanda.”

      “Perhaps, but I am certain I will learn it from you.”

      Bodhidharma stared at Vanya, and Vanya saw that his request had pleased the master.

      “The journey is long and dangerous,” Bodhidharma warned.

      “I’m not afraid,” Vanya assured him.

      “You intend to cross the Himalayas with me?” Bodhidharma asked seriously.

      “Yes, as your disciple,” Vanya said eagerly.

      Bodhidharma’s eyes hardened. “Then you’d better get to the top of the stupa,” he said with a finality that brooked no further discussion, and Vanya knew he must meet the challenge.

      The Scholar

      “Today you will meet a very special monk,” The Venerable Ananda told Bodhidharma, “an interesting character, one of the most learned masters at Nalanda. He has studied the scriptures in great depth and is able to debate them with consummate skill. Yet he has been unable to attain the simple beauty of The Way.”

      “Why is that?” Bodhidharma asked.

      “He does not trust his own judgment.”

      “That is a difficult step.”

      “A terrifying step,” Ananda nodded seriously, “and I believe you are the one to help him take it.”

      “I’m afraid you’re wrong. I have had no success in the past,” Bodhidharma said.

      “Well you will have plenty of time to perfect your methods,” Ananda smiled. “It is a long way to China. If we can persuade this monk to accompany you, he will be of great help to you. Let me introduce you to him.”

      He rang a small handbell and his assistant entered, followed by a short monk in a simple orange robe. The monk’s head was shaved like the others, yet there was something unusual about his appearance. As he came into the light, Bodhidharma saw the same almond eyes that he had seen in the Burmese on the road to Bodh Gaya, but this man’s skin was as smooth as silk and shone pale silver in the dim light. The monk was Chinese! Bodhidharma was surprised he had not considered the possibility.

      “Brother Yin Chiang,” Ananda said warmly, rising unsteadily, “how wonderful to see you. Thank you so much for coming to meet with us at such short notice. I hope we are not keeping you from your studies.”

      Brother Yin Chiang was unsure how to answer, and the sight of the wild-looking man beside The Venerable Ananda did nothing to ease his concern.

      “Let me introduce you to our special guest,” Ananda continued, ignoring Yin Chiang’s obvious dismay. “This is Master Bodhidharma, from the Kingdom of Pallava. He was born to the Kshatriya, which, I’m sure you know, is India’s ancient Warrior Caste. He is an invincible warrior, but he is also a Buddhist master. His name is most apt, since he brings enlightenment wherever he travels.”

      Vanya turned to Yin Chiang, “And this is Brother Yin Chiang, who has come all the way from the Chinese city of Changan. Brother Yin Chiang has been a resident in Nalanda for eight years, I believe, and in that time he has translated many of the most important Sutras into Chinese.”

      “Delighted to meet you, Brother Yin Chiang,” Bodhidharma said with a bow, “though The Venerable One exaggerates more than a little when he speaks of my abilities.”

      “Nonsense,” Ananda said beaming with joy. Yin Chiang stared wide-eyed for a moment longer until he recalled his manners and returned Bodhidharma’s bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Master Bodhidharma,” he said in perfect Sanskrit.

      His words had a pleasant timbre that Bodhidharma had never heard before and it delighted him to hear the sacred language spoken so well.

      “Now please sit, both of you,” Ananda urged, “so we can talk more comfortably. There is much to discuss.”

      Once seated, Ananda smiled and waited a moment before beginning.

      “Master Bodhidharma is only visiting Nalanda for a short time, in preparation for a far greater

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