Early one morning a tall thirty-something monk made his way to the Medicine Buddha Hall. This was Jinpa, one of the most famous of Mamba Rasang's doctor-monks.
In the Medicine Buddha Hall a number of monks were lighting lamps and setting incense offerings. The Master of Offerings was adding butter oil to the lamp that was always kept burning before the statue of the Medicine Buddha. Jinpa came forward to offer a lamp of his own, then stood in silent contemplation with his palms pressed together. Next he went to look at the bookshelves that lined the walls of the hall. The shelves contained many works on medicine in both Mongolian and Tibetan. Jinpa had read all of them give or take. He selected a few volumes he wished to read again, asked the Master of Offerings to note which books he was borrowing, and then left.
It was a fine day and Jinpa walked along in high spirits. Subudal Dari came towards him. Her eyes danced like two butterflies and she gave him a faint smile that revealed her even white teeth.
"I hope I find you well, Master Jinpa." Subudal Dari stopped in front of him.
"Very well, thank you."
"I wonder that I have not seen you of late?"
"You have your eyes on higher things, I don't expect you to see mere ordinary men."
Subudal Dari gave a loud merry laugh.
Jinpa and Subudal Dari came from the same place. There were ten years between them in age. Subudal Dari had married away just past twenty when Jinpa had been a boy just turned ten, but the difference in their ages had never mattered between them.
"Will you not treat this sickness of mine?" Subudal Dari asked.
"What sickness is this?"
"Have you not heard?"
"Ah, you are speaking of your inability to get with child are you? That is not a sickness."
"What is it then if not a sickness?"
"Some women have children and some do not and there are many reasons why, and sickness not necessarily one of them."
Subudal Dari laughed again. "You must visit when you have the time."
"When I have the time I most certainly shall."
"So you always say yet I have yet to see you come."
"One hesitates at the prospect of visiting such a noble household."
"Surely you are not such a timorous fellow? I expect it is because you think too little of me."
Jinpa took his leave of Subudal Dari and went into the Sutra Hall. It was here that the novices were instructed in the medical arts. There were five grades taught at the Sutra Hall and the children had to pass each of them in turn with an exacting exam required to graduate the fifth and final grade. After that they would intern for a few years with a master doctor-monk before finally being allowed to practise independently. Thubten, who taught the fifth grade, came over. He had long wanted Jinpa to teach his students a class but Jinpa had not been able to find the time.
"Do you have any free time today?"
"Still not I'm afraid, I've agreed to visit a sick old man out in the countryside," replied Jinpa.
"It really is too hard getting a favour from you." Thubten didn't look pleased.
"Though it's normal enough if you're asking a famous doctor." Jinpa smiled and Thubten smiled too.
Jinpa left the Sutra Hall and headed over to the scriptorium where work was underway compiling a great compendium of medical texts. He crossed the courtyard into a large building where thirty or so monks sat at desks busily copying, revising, and checking texts. Jinpa walked past them to a far corner where a bearded old monk in a patched robe was busy with a great pile of papers. This was another of Mamba Rasang's famous doctor-monks, Labujurh.
"It been days since I saw you last, thought you must have died but here you still are!" Jinpa grinned.
"When we've finished this compendium and not when you say so, I can die then." Labujurh grinned too.
"When will it be finished?"
"Another two months I should say."
"So you get to live another two months then."
"That's about right," Labujurh laughed.
Jinpa saw the table of contents for the compendium on Labujurh's desk. He picked it up and read it.
"Ah, what have we here for Volume One Hundred? The Xanadu Secret Formulae? That's the famous codex isn't it?"
"That's right."
"Will you be able to find it? Don't they say even the abbot doesn't know where it is?" Jinpa's curiosity was piqued.
"Probably not but we ought to include it in the table of contents for the great compendium, wouldn't you say? It's the most famous medical treatise at Mamba Rasang." Labujurh sighed.
"What you say makes sense. Include the title for now, the codex is sure to show up eventually. When it does you can add the contents." Jinpa sighed too.
A young monk brought Labujurh his midday meal. The younger monk was Labujurh's apprentice, Sudbal. All the doctor-monks at Mamba Rasang liked this young monk of few words and a ready smile, and the general view was that he had the makings of a great doctor in the future.
"What treats have you brought for your master?"
It was fried dough and a pot of tea made without milk. Labujurh was responsible for the final editing of the compendium and such was the task that he even ate at his desk.
"You must give your master only the best. If it's rough tea and plain fare he'll die even sooner." Jinpa laughed.
"Master won't eat fine foods." Sudbal smiled.
At noon Jinpa rode out into the wilderness. A month previously he had fallen into dispute with an itinerant doctor over the treatment of an old country fellow. They had bet two horses on who had the right of it and today the bet fell due.
The old man had initially asked for Jinpa to come and treat him. When Jinpa arrived he found a stranger in the tent drinking tea, a man of about thirty years of age. Jinpa took the old man's pulse and began to make up medicine for him to take.
The stranger watched as he made up the packets of medicine. "Are you one of the doctor-monks from Mamba Rasang?"
"Yes, I'm from Mamba Rasang."
"They say the doctors from Mamba Rasang are amazing fellows but I don't think much of that medicine you're preparing. Are you perhaps the worst doctor at Mamba Rasang?"
"Eh? What's that you said?" Jinpa looked over at the man. He was about his own age and he was smiling back at him.
"I suppose you do a bit of making medicines and treating folk yourself then?"
"I can't do much with the dead but if they're laid out I can get 'em sitting up and if they're sat up I can get 'em running." The man had the smuggest grin.
This beggar's not one for steering clear of trouble, thought Jinpa. He gave a laugh and said, "The boys in our Sutra Hall learning medicine will often boast like you do. What can you do? Bunch of know-nothing children."
The man fixed him with a stare and laughed out loud. "Want to bet on it?"
"You'll not cry when you lose?"
"I've never lost."
"All right then. What sort of bet?"
"That medicine you've made will certainly improve things for the old fellow when he takes it but it'll give him blisters and he'll be left with a bad itch."
"I've thought of that, which is why I've added herbs to counteract it."
"The dose is too small."
"Well let's have this bet then."
"We'll come back after a month and if the old man has that problem you lose. Otherwise I'll have lost."
"All right then. What are we betting?"
"What about two horses?"
"That would be fine of course but I wonder, do you have two horses?'
"I've only made this bet because I'm short a mount. When I come back in a month all I'll need to bring is two halters."
As he rode back to the old man's ger Jinpa thought about the gleam in the stranger's eyes. They certainly had a charm to them.
When he arrived he found the family delighted as the old man had already recovered from his illness. When he went into the tent he found the wandering doctor sat by the fire-basket hearth.
"You've kept well I trust?" Jinpa smiled.
"Very well. And yourself, o mighty doctor-monk of Mamba Rasang? But why have you only brought the one horse? I've brought those two halters."
"Are you not being a bit previous there? And are you not bothered about having to carry two halters back with you?"
The old man smiled. "My two saviours. I'll not interfere if you want a joke but please don't make me fret, both of you have been so good to me."
The old man's family slaughtered a sheep and held a feast. There was music too and it was a very merry affair. While the festivities were in full swing a young novice came galloping up. He had been sent by the abbot with a message. As he handed the letter to Jinpa the novice told him the abbot had written it in his own hand. Jinpa opened it and read:
Jinpa, there has been a major outbreak in Shaanxi and they have sought the aid of Mamba Rasang. Make your way there with all haste. I will have Labujurh follow on as a specialist in preparations.
Jinpa handed the note to the itinerant doctor. He read it too and asked, "What will you do? Will you set off straight away?"
"Yes, let's go together."
"All right then, go we shall."
The old man and his family were upset when they heard the doctors planned to leave.
"My two saviours! You must enjoy this feast then stay the night. Have a bit of fun before you set off. If you go I'll not sleep well." The old man's beard shook as he spoke and tears welled in his eyes.
Jinpa smiled. "If you were the only sick man in the world sir we'd happily stay with you for years. But the plague has struck down so many in another place and lives hang in the balance. How can we delay, eating and drinking here?"
As Jinpa and the itinerant doctor left his tent the old man hurried out after them. He went to fetch a pair of horses, already saddled, and placed the reins in Jinpa's hands. "Fine then. My life is a life but other people's lives are lives too. If you are going to save lives how can I hold you back? I have readied these two horses for you. But don't go thinking I'm giving you horses because I heard your bet, it's got nothing to do with that at all."
Jinpa laughed. "If we say we don't want the horses you'll take it badly so we will take your horses with us, sir. As I say, we will take the horses but what we won't take is the saddles and bridles, if you can spare a couple of halters that will do fine." He took the tack off the horses as he spoke.
The old man's son brought two halters.
"Take care of yourselves, everyone!" Jinpa and the wandering doctor mounted up and set off at a gallop. The family waved them off with tears in their eyes.
The pair rode on quickly for some time until they topped a high ridge where they reined their horses in. The wandering doctor grinned at Jinpa.
"So what about our bet then?" Jinpa asked.
"There were a few days at the start where the old fellow did get those blisters. But they went away again after a couple of days."
"So who won the bet then, you or me?"
"We'll call it a draw." The itinerant doctor grinned again.
"What are we going to do with these two horses then?"
"I thought you'd made your mind up on that already. You left their saddles and bridles back with their owner." The wanderer was still smiling.
"Well let's have these halters off and these two can head back and join their herd." Jinpa laughed as he freed the two horses from their halters.
The horses trotted slowly at first but then the sound of their hoof beats came hard and fast. The two men grinned broadly as they watched the two horses galloping homeward.
When Jinpa and his companion crossed over into Shaanxi they were met by a delegation of local officials and doctors.
"What type of plague is it?" Jinpa asked.
"We don't know. There are sick and dying in every household. You hardly see smoke from any chimney stack. We have done our best to treat people but none of our efforts have been to any avail." The reply came from a Han doctor who sported a wispy beard.
"What medicine have you given?" Jinpa asked.
The Han doctors opened up a number of paper packages to show Jinpa. They looked him in the eye. "This is the stuff, perhaps it is not the right medicine?"
Jinpa studied the preparations for some time before looking over at the itinerant doctor. "What do you think?"
The wanderer furrowed his brow. "Doesn't look to be anything wrong with the medicine, it ought to cure most cases of plague."
Jinpa pondered for a while. "Nothing wrong with the medicine, most likely the problem is how you're using it. I expect the plague you're having here isn't the common sort." He continued, "We ought to go and see some of the patients first."
They came to an untidy scattering of adobe houses in a landscape of sandy dunes. Although there were many houses the place appeared empty, it was so still and quiet. On closer inspection there was smoke coming from some of the chimneys but only a very few. Jinpa and the itinerant doctor accompanied the Han officials and doctors going from house to house. Everywhere they found young and old very sick and on the point of death.
"We'll take their pulses," Jinpa said to the wanderer.
They say a doctor's eyes are in his fingertips. The pair used their fingers to study the internal organs of the sick. They spent the best part of the day doing this but in the end could only look at each other in puzzlement.
"This plague really is a strange one."
"That means we'll have to come up with a special way to treat it," said Jinpa.
"We need an expert on preparations, neither of us has the skill for the job," said the itinerant doctor.
"Labujurh ought to be here soon," replied Jinpa. He took out a small ceramic jar from his medicine bag and handed it to one of the Han doctors. "These pills can save lives. Give one to each of the sick and they should be able to hold on for a few more days at least."
Two days later Labujurh arrived with a few companions. After discussion with Jinpa and the itinerant doctor they settled on a treatment plan. Then they all set to work, the local officials and doctors as well. After days with barely any rest or time to eat the worst cases showed signs of improvement and those with lighter symptoms were sitting up. With this turn of events Jinpa, the wanderer, and the others thought it was time to head home. The Shaanxi doctors and officials accompanied them to the provincial borders to see them off. They said they had decided to erect a memorial arch in honour of the Mongol doctors' great act of kindness.
Jinpa laughed out loud. "What's a memorial arch?"
"It's built out of stone in the form of a gateway. It will be a memorial to your kindness and mercy," one of the local officials said.
"Never mind stones, if you carved us all as the Buddha himself what would be the point? Don't waste any effort on a memorial arch, just remember the Mamba Rasang monastery of the Ordos."
"My dear saviours, we will decide how best to memorialise you in our own way."
"Well, you must do as you please."
Their spirited Ordos steeds raced forward and Jinpa and his party galloped some distance before reining in the horses and looking back. The Han official and doctors in their long gowns and round hats still bowed and saluted in farewell, their long queues hanging down behind like sheep's tails.
The itinerant doctor gazed off westward. "Is that Alasha there beyond the Yellow River?"
"It is. What of it?" replied Jinpa.
"I have heard there is a medical monastery in Alasha too. I would like to meet the doctors there."
"Fine. Let's go together."
"I was hoping you'd say that."
"Right, together it is. One word of advice though, don't go betting horses with anyone, you're bound to lose."
Labujurh and his companions continued on back to Mamba Rasang while Jinpa and the itinerant doctor spurred their mounts towards the banks on the Yellow River.
By sunset the two sat their horses side by side on the far bank of the river. The wide expanses of Ningxia rolled away into the far distance. To the north towered the great massif of the Alasha Mountains. The rolling waters of the Yellow River shone red.
"Beautiful! We'll find someone to put us up for the night at the foot of the mountains, then cross tomorrow," said Jinpa.
They galloped forward.
