The Country of Qusadanna瞿薩旦那國

The country of Qusadanna is more than four thousand li around. Sand and gravel are more than half of it, and the good soil is narrow and cramped. It is fit for grain, and there are many fruits of every kind. Rugs and fine felt come from here, the people are skilled at spinning and weaving silk, and white jade and dark jade are found here as well. The climate is mild and pleasant, but whirling winds raise the dust. Their customs know rite and right, and the nature of the people is warm and respectful. They love to study the old books and the arts, and they are widely versed in crafts and skills. The common people are rich and happy, and the households on the register are settled in their work. The country honors music, and the people love song and dance. Few of them wear hair cloth and felt furs, and most wear silk and fine white cotton. Their bearing has form, and their manners have order. Their writing and their rules follow India, but the shapes of the letters have been changed a little, and there has been some altering. Their speech differs from that of the other countries. They hold the Law of the Buddha high. There are more than a hundred monasteries and more than five thousand monks, and most of them study and learn the Law and teaching of the Greater Vehicle.

The king is very bold and warlike, and he honors the Law of the Buddha. He says of himself that he is of the blessed line of the god Vaishravana. Long ago this country was empty and wide and had no people, and the god Vaishravana dwelt here. When the crown prince of King Wuyou had his eyes gouged out in the country of Dachashiluo, King Wuyou in anger blamed his ministers, moved their powerful families away, sent them out north of the Snow Mountains, and made them live among the waste valleys. The people who were moved followed their herds, came to this western border, raised up a chief from among themselves, and set him high as king. At that same time a son of the emperor of the eastern land was blamed and sent into exile, and he lived on this eastern border. His followers urged him forward, and he too called himself king. Years and months piled up, but their manners and teaching did not pass between them. Each of them went out hunting, and they met in a waste marsh, where they asked after each other's line and descent, and from that they quarreled over which was the elder. Anger showed in their words, and they were about to bring their soldiers against each other. Someone remonstrated and said, "How can we be hasty now? If we decide the battle on a hunt, we do not use the full edge of our arms. It is better to go back, put the troops in order, and gather at an appointed time."

So they turned their carriages and went back, each to his own country, drilled their horses and arms, and urged on their soldiers. At the appointed time the armies met, and their banners and drums faced each other. On the morning of the next day they joined battle. The lord of the west had the worse of it, and as he fled they pursued him and cut off his head. The lord of the east took his victory and gathered and settled the ruined country. He moved his capital to the middle of the land and was about to build the city walls, but he was troubled that there was no earth for it and feared the work could not be done. So he gave notice far and near, asking who knew the lay of the ground. At that time there was a follower of another way, smeared with ashes, who carried a great gourd filled with water. He came forward himself and said, "I know the lay of the ground." Then he let the water run out in winding lines, going round until it came back to where it began, and then he ran off quickly and all at once was not to be seen. Following the track of that water they raised the foundation walls, and so the work could go forward. This is the seat of the country's rule, and it is the city where the king has his capital today. The city is not high or steep, but it is hard to take by attack, and from ancient times until now none has been able to overcome it.

That king moved his capital and made a town, founded the country and settled its people, and his work was done. But his teeth were old and his years were late, and he had no heir, and he feared that the line of his house would be cut off. So he went to the place of the god Vaishravana and prayed for an heir. The forehead of the god's image split open and an infant came out, and he took it up and turned his carriage home, and the people of the country gave him joy. But the child would not drink milk, and he feared it would not live long, so he went again to the shrine of the god and asked a second time that it be nursed and reared. The ground before the god all at once swelled up, and its shape was like a breast. The divine child drank and sucked at it, and so he came to grow up. His wisdom and courage gave light to those before him, and his manners and teaching were spread far. So he built the shrine of the god and made his forebear the head of his house. From that time onward, age after age, they have followed one another, handing down the country and reigning over it, and they have not lost the line. Therefore in the god's temple today there are many precious and rare things, and the bowing at the shrine and the offering of sacrifice have never failed in their season. Because the child was reared by the milk of the earth, they took that for the name of the country.

More than ten li south of the king's city there is a great monastery, which a former king of this country built for the arhat Piluzhena. Long ago the Law of the Buddha had not yet reached this country, and the arhat came here from the country of Jiashimiluo into this wood, where he sat still and practiced meditation. Someone saw him then and was startled at his face and his clothes, and told the king all that he had seen. The king went himself and looked at his bearing and said, "What sort of man are you, alone in this deep wood?" The arhat said, "I am a disciple of the Tathagata. I live at ease and practice meditation. The king should plant merit and praise the teaching of the Buddha widely, build a monastery, and call monks together." The king said, "What virtue has this Tathagata, what divine power, that you perch like a bird and hold to his teaching through all this toil and hardship?" He answered, "The Tathagata pities the four kinds of birth with love and leads the three worlds. Now he shows himself and now he hides, showing birth and showing his passing away. Those who follow his Law get free of birth and death, and those who go astray from his teaching are bound in the net of desire." The king said, "If it is truly as you say, the matter is higher than words and talk. Since you call him a great sage, let him show his form for me. If I may look up at him, I will build the monastery, and with my whole heart I will turn and believe, and I will spread his teaching and his Law abroad." The arhat said, "If the king builds a monastery, the work will be done and the answer will come." The king did as he asked and built a monastery, and from far and near they all came together and held a gathering of the Law and gave him joy. But there was as yet no jianzhui to strike and call them together. The king said to the arhat, "The monastery is finished. Where is the Buddha?" The arhat said, "Let the king be utterly sincere, and the holy seeing is not far off." The king then made his request with rites, and all at once an image of the Buddha was seen coming down out of the sky and giving the king a jianzhui. From this he believed with sincerity and spread the teaching of the Buddha abroad.

More than twenty li southwest of the king's city there is the mountain Qushilengjia. Its peaks rise up in two, and its cliffs fall sheer on all four sides. Between the cliff and the valley one monastery was built, and the image of the Buddha inside it shines with light from time to time. Long ago the Tathagata came to this place and taught the essentials of the Law in brief for the gods and the people, and he foretold that a country would be founded in this land, that it would honor with reverence the Law he left behind, and that it would follow and study the Greater Vehicle.

In the rock of the Ox Horn Mountain there is a great stone chamber, and inside it there is an arhat who has entered the concentration of the cessation of mind and waits for the Buddha Cishi. For several hundred years the offerings to him have never failed. Not long ago the cliff fell in and blocked the path to the door. The king of the country raised soldiers and wanted to clear away the fallen rock, but black bees flew up in a swarm and stung the men with their poison. For this reason the stone door has not been opened to this day.

More than ten li southwest of the king's city there is the monastery of Dijiapofuna. Inside it there is a standing image of the Buddha made of hemp cloth and lacquer, which came here of itself from the country of Quzhi. Long ago a minister of this country was blamed and sent away, and he lodged in Quzhi, where he always paid his respects to this image. Afterward he was allowed to return to his own country, and he bent his heart toward the image and honored it from afar. After the middle of one night the image all at once came of itself, and the man gave up his house and built this monastery.

Going west from the king's city for more than three hundred li, one comes to the city of Bojiayi. In it there is a seated image of the Buddha more than seven feet high, with the marks and the fair signs truly complete, and its majesty is stern and towering. On its head it wears a jeweled crown, and a bright light shines out from it. I heard from the people of that place that it was first in the country of Jiashimiluo and was asked for and moved here. Long ago there was an arhat, and his disciple, a novice, asked for a cake of sour rice when he was about to die. The arhat looked with his heavenly eye and saw that this flavor was to be had in the country of Qusadanna, and he used his divine power, came here, sought it, and got it. When the novice had eaten it, he wished to be born in that country, and his old wish was indeed fulfilled, and he became a king's son. When he had come to the throne, his majesty overawed both far and near, and at last he crossed the Snow Mountains and made war on the country of Jiashimiluo. The king of Jiashimiluo drew up his horses and arms and was about to hold off the robbers on his border, but at that time an arhat remonstrated with the king and said, "Do not let the soldiers fight. I can turn them back." Then he told the king of Qusadanna the essentials of the Law. At first the king did not believe him and still wanted to raise his soldiers, so the arhat took out the robe that this king had worn in his former body, when he was a novice, and showed it to him. When the king had seen the robe, he gained the knowledge of his former lives, begged pardon of the king of Jiashimiluo for his fault, rejoiced with him, and turned back with his soldiers disbanded. He took up the image of the Buddha to which he had made offerings when he was a novice, welcomed it, and had it brought with rites in the train of his army. But when the image reached this ground it could not be moved, so he built a monastery around it, called monks together as the rule requires, and gave up his jeweled crown to set it on the head of the image. What the image wears today is what that former king gave.

A hundred and fifty or sixty li west of the king's city, in the middle of the straight road across the great sand waste, there are mounds, and they are all burial heaps thrown up by rats. I heard from the people of that place that in this sand waste there are rats as big as hedgehogs, and one of them has hair of a strange gold and silver color and is the chief of the pack. Whenever he comes out of his hole to roam and rest, the other rats follow him. Long ago the Xiongnu led several hundred thousand men and plundered the border cities, and they came to the side of the rat mounds and camped their army there. At that time the king of Qusadanna led several tens of thousands of soldiers, and he feared that his strength would not match them. He had always known that the rats of the sand waste were strange, but he had not thought them divine. When the robbers came and there was nowhere to look for help, the ruler and his ministers shook with fear and did not know what to plan. So they set out an offering after all, burned incense, and made their request to the rats, hoping that they had power and would add a little to the strength of the army. That night the king of Qusadanna saw a great rat in a dream, and it said, "We wish with respect to help you. Put your troops in order early. Join battle at dawn, and you will surely win." The king of Qusadanna knew that he had divine help, so he drew up his horses and arms, gave his orders to the officers and men, marched before daylight, and rode far to fall upon them. When the Xiongnu heard of it, there was none who was not afraid. They were about to yoke their carts and put on their armor, but the rats had gnawed through the horses' saddle straps, the men's clothes, the bowstrings, the fastenings of the armor, and every strap and tie they had. When the soldiers and the robbers met, their hands were bound behind them and they were put to death. So he killed their general and took their soldiers captive, and the Xiongnu shook with dread and thought that a god had helped him. The king of Qusadanna was moved by the deep kindness of the rats, and he built a shrine and set out offerings. Age after age they have followed him in honoring them and have held them especially precious and strange. Therefore from the ruler above down to the common people below, all keep up the sacrifice and ask for blessing and help. When they pass by the holes, they get down from their carriages and hurry past with small respectful steps, bowing to show their respect and making offerings to pray for blessing. Some bring clothes or bows and arrows, some incense and flowers and good food, and when they have given of their sincerity they mostly receive blessing and benefit. If there is no offering, they meet with calamity.

Five or six li west of the king's city there is the monastery of Suomoruo. In it there is a stupa more than a hundred feet high, with very many holy and lucky signs, and a divine light shines from it at times. Long ago there was an arhat who came from a far country and stayed in this wood, and by his divine power he sent out a great light. At that time the king was at night in an upper hall, and from afar he saw a light shining and gleaming in the wood. He asked about it all around, and they all said, "There is a shramana who has come from far away. He sits still in the wood and shows his divine power." The king then called for his carriage and went himself to look. When he had seen the bright and worthy man, his heart was filled with respect, and his admiration for such a manner did not cease, and he asked him to come to the inner palace. The shramana said, "Each thing has what is fitting for it, and each will has its own place. Deep woods and marshes and ponds are what my feelings delight in. High halls and deep chambers are not what I have heard of." The king honored and looked up to him the more and held him in still deeper regard, and for him he built a monastery and raised a stupa. The shramana took his invitation and stayed within it. Not long after, the king was answered and obtained several hundred grains of relics. He was very glad, and thought quietly to himself, "The relics have come in answer to me. Why so late? If I had got them earlier and set them beneath the stupa, would that not have been a fine thing?" He went at once to the monastery and told the shramana everything. The arhat said, "Let the king not be troubled. I will set them there for him now. They should be put one within another in caskets of gold, silver, copper, iron, and great stone." The king ordered his craftsmen, and in a few days the work was done. They loaded the caskets on jeweled carriages and sent them to the monastery. At that time those who led and followed from the king's palace, the officials of every rank, and those who watched the relics being sent were counted by tens of thousands. Then the arhat lifted the stupa with his right hand, set it on his palm, and said to the king, "You may store them underneath." So they dug the ground and set in the caskets, and the work was done, and then he put the stupa down, and nothing was tilted or damaged. Those who watched sighed that they had never seen such a thing, and their hearts believed in the Buddha still more deeply, and their will to honor the Law was made firm. The king said to his officials, "I have heard that the power of the Buddha is hard to think of and his divine power hard to search out. Now he divides his body into a hundred million, now he answers with a trace among men and gods. He lifts a world into his palm, and living beings have no thought of moving or of being still. He sets out the nature of the Law in one unchanging voice, and living beings understand it each after their kind. This is a divine power that nothing shares, and a wisdom that cuts off words. His holy presence is already hidden, but his teaching is still handed down. We eat of his harmony and drink of his kindness, we taste his Way and admire his manner, and still we obtain this holy sign, so deeply do we lean on his blessing. Strive, all of you, and honor him deeply. That the Law of the Buddha is wide and deep is clear from this."

Five or six li southeast of the king's city there is the monastery of Mashe, which the queen of a former king of this country founded. Long ago in this country they did not yet know the mulberry and the silkworm, and when they heard that the country to the east had them, they ordered envoys to go and ask for them. At that time the ruler of the eastern country kept them secret and would not give them, and he gave strict orders at the barrier passes that no mulberry or silkworm eggs be let out. Then the king of Qusadanna lowered his words and lowered his rites and asked for a marriage with the eastern country, and the ruler of that country had a mind to draw distant lands to him, and so he allowed his request. The king of Qusadanna ordered his envoy to go and fetch the bride, and warned him, saying, "Say these words to the daughter of the ruler of the eastern country. In our country there has never been silk floss or mulberry or silkworm eggs. She may bring them with her and make her own clothing." When the daughter heard these words, she secretly sought the seed and put the eggs of the mulberry silkworm inside the padding of her hat. When she came to the barrier, the keepers searched everywhere, but only the hat of the king's daughter they did not dare to examine. So she entered the country of Qusadanna and stayed at the old ground of the Mashe monastery. There the rites were made ready, and she was welcomed with honor into the palace, and she left the mulberry and the silkworm eggs in this land. When the warmth of spring first came they planted the mulberry, and when the month of the silkworm arrived they set about gathering leaves and rearing them. When the worms first came they still fed them on leaves of other kinds, but from that time on the mulberry trees have joined their shade. Then the queen cut a rule into stone, that none should hurt or kill the worms, and that only after the moths had all flown away should the cocoons be worked, and that if any dared to break this, the bright gods would not help them. So for the one who first reared the silkworm they built this monastery. There are a few withered mulberry trees, and they say these are the trees first planted. Therefore in this country today they do not kill the silkworm, and if anyone secretly takes the silk, the next year his worms will not do well.

More than a hundred li southeast of the city there is a great river that flows to the northwest, and the people of the country find it useful and take water from it for their fields. Afterward the flow was cut off, and the king thought it very strange. So he called for his carriage and asked an arhat monk, "The people of the country have taken their supply from the water of the great river, and now all at once the flow is cut off. Where does the fault lie? Is there something uneven in my rule, or something not sufficient in my virtue? If it is not so, why is the blame laid on us so heavily?" The arhat said, "Great king, you govern the country, and your rule and teaching are pure and harmonious. That the river has stopped flowing is only the work of a dragon. You should quickly make an offering and pray, and the old benefit will come back." So the king turned his carriage and made an offering to the dragon of the river. All at once a woman came riding over the waves and said, "My husband died early, and I have no one to follow as my master. That is why the river has stopped flowing and the farmers have lost their benefit. If the king will choose one noble minister from within his country and match him with me as my husband, the water will flow as before." The king said, "I have heard you with respect, and it shall be as you wish." Then the dragon looked with pleasure on the great minister of the country. When the king had turned his carriage back, he said to those below him, "A great minister is the heavy stone that holds the country down, and farming is the food that is the life of the people. If the country loses its stone it is in danger, and if the people are cut off from food they die. Between danger and death, what is the right thing to do?" The great minister stepped over from his place, knelt, and answered, "For a long time I have been a man of little worth and have wrongly held a heavy charge. I have always thought of repaying the country, but I have not met my time. Now that I am among those chosen, I dare to fill this deep duty. If it is truly of benefit to all the people, how should one minister be grudged? The minister is the country's helper, and the people are the country's root. I beg the great king not to think of it a second time. Be so kind as to make merit for me and build a monastery." The king allowed what he asked, and in a few days the work was done. The minister asked further that he might enter the dragon's palace early, and so the officials and the people of the whole country played drums and music and drank and saw him off. Then the minister put on white clothes, rode a white horse, took his leave of the king, and thanked the people of the country with respect. He drove his horse into the river and trod on the water without sinking, and when he had crossed to the middle of the stream he waved his whip and drew it across the water, and the water opened in the middle, and from there he vanished. Not long after, the white horse floated up carrying a great sandalwood drum, and with it a sealed letter. The letter said in brief, "The great king did not pass over one so small and slight, and I have wrongly taken part in the choosing of the god. I pray you make much merit, so that the country may be increased and its ministers grow many. Hang this great drum on the southeast of the city, and if robbers come, let the drum sound out first." Then the river flowed, and to this day they have its benefit. The years and months have gone far off, and the dragon's drum has long been gone, but in the place where it used to hang there is a drum even now. The monastery beside the pool is in ruins, and there are no monks.

More than three hundred li east of the king's city, in the middle of a great waste marsh, there are several tens of acres of ground where not a blade of grass grows, and the earth there is red and black. I heard from the old men that it is "the ground where an army was broken." Long ago a million soldiers of the eastern country made war on the west, and at that time the king of Qusadanna also drew up several hundred thousand horses and men and went east to hold off the strong enemy, and came to this ground. The two armies met, and from that they joined battle, and the soldiers of the west had the worse of it. Taking their victory, the victors killed cruelly, took the king captive, killed his general, and cut down the soldiers until not one was left. The blood that ran out dyed the ground, and the trace of it is here.

Going east from the ground of the battle for more than thirty li, one comes to the city of Pimo. There is a standing image of the Buddha carved in sandalwood, more than twenty feet high, with very many holy answerings, and it shines with light at times. Whenever anyone is sick, he pastes gold leaf on the image at the place that matches where his pain is, and he is cured at once. If a man empties his heart and makes his prayer, he mostly obtains what he seeks. I heard from the people of that place that this image was made long ago by King Wutuoyanna of the country of Jiaoshangmi, while the Buddha was in the world. After the Buddha left the world it rode through the air from there and came into the city of Helaoluojia, north of this country. At first the people of this city were at ease and happy and rich, but they clung deeply to crooked views and did not treasure or honor it. They passed on the story that it had come of itself, and thought it wonderful but did not hold it dear. Afterward an arhat bowed down to this image, and the people of the country were startled and thought his face and his clothes strange, and they ran to tell the king. The king then gave an order that this stranger should be covered over with sand and earth. So the arhat had sand and earth thrown over his body, and the food that kept him alive was cut off. At that time there was one man who could not bear it in his heart. He had always honored and revered this image, and when he saw the arhat he fed him in secret. As the arhat was about to go, he said to that man, "Seven days from now sand and earth will rain down and fill this city, and hardly anyone will be left. You should know this and plan a way out early. Because they covered me over, they have brought this calamity on themselves." When he had said this he went away and all at once was not to be seen. The man went into the city and told all his kin and his old friends, but of those who heard him there was none who did not laugh at him. On the second day a great wind rose all at once and blew away the filth and earth, and jewels of every kind rained down and filled the streets, and the people scolded the man who had told them all the more. This man knew in his heart that it would surely be so, so he secretly opened a passage, went outside the city, and dug a hole there. On the night of the seventh day, after the middle of the night, sand and earth rained down and filled the city. The man came out through the passage, went east to this country, and stayed in the city of Pimo. He had scarcely arrived when the image came too, and so they make offerings to it here and do not dare to move it. I heard it said in the old records that when the Law of Shakya comes to an end, the image will enter the dragon's palace. Today the city of Helaoluojia is a great mound, and many kings of the countries and powerful men of other lands have wanted to dig into it and take its treasures. But as soon as they come to the side of it, a fierce wind bursts out, smoke and cloud close in on all four sides, and they lose the road.

From the Pimo river one goes east into the sand waste, and after more than two hundred li one comes to the city of Niyang, which is three or four li around and lies in the middle of a great marsh. The ground of the marsh is hot and damp and hard to walk across. Reeds and grass grow thick and wild, and there is no other road left; only the way to the city can barely be traveled. Therefore there is no one going or coming who does not pass through this city, and Qusadanna makes it the barrier of its eastern border.

Going east from here, one enters the great drifting sands. The sand flows and spreads, gathering and scattering with the wind, and a man leaves no track when he walks, so that many lose their way. On all four sides it stretches vast and dim, and no one knows which way to point, and so those who go and come pile up the bones that are left there to mark it. Water and grass are scarce, and there are many hot winds. When the wind rises, men and beasts grow dazed, and from this they fall sick. At times singing and whistling is heard, at times wailing and crying, and between the seeing and the hearing a man is bewildered and does not know where he has come. Because of this many have died there, and it is the work of demons and goblins.

After more than four hundred li one comes to the old country of Duhuoluo. The country has long been empty and wide, and its cities have all gone to waste.

Going east from here for more than six hundred li, one comes to the old country of Zhemotuona, which is the land of Jumo. The city walls stand up high, but the smoke of its houses has ceased.

Going east from here again for more than a thousand li, one comes to the old country of Nafupo, which is the land of Loulan.

I have reckoned and set out the mountains and the rivers, examined and gathered the lands of each border, given in detail whether the customs of a country are hard or soft, and tied the manners and the airs of a people to their water and their soil. Movement and stillness are never the same, and what is taken and what is left is not alike. These matters are hard to test to the end, and they are not to be spoken of with assurance. As I traveled and arrived, I wrote down the main lines in brief and set out what I heard and saw, for those who long for the teaching. Truly, from the place where the sun goes down onward, all have been bathed in kindness, and wherever that manner has reached, all look up to the highest virtue. It has joined the world into one and made all within the heavens a single thing. How should this be merely a single carriage sent out on an embassy, opening post roads for ten thousand li?