Buddhism who also brought martial arts to the monks of the Songshan Shaolin Monastery. After reaching the monastery, Dharuma was said to have spent nine years in silent contemplation of a cave wall, listening to the sound of ants screaming.
One of the monks watching this feat of self-control was so moved that he cut off one of his own hands and offered it to Dharuma in sympathy.
The story, some felt, was meant to defy interpretation, another Zen koan that one is to reflect upon but never really to grasp. Intellectual understanding was an impossibility; the best to be hoped for was a sort of contemplative emotional acceptance.
But as Sokai allowed his fingertips to touch the bandages over his blinded eye, he believed he understood the message. The dark night of his life had been illuminated in the way that lightning reveals the secrets of a summer's night.
The sound of ants screaming had a name.
"Jones," Sokai growled.
And the name had become a curse.
The typhoon overtook the junk in a dark wall of wind and water that blotted out the sky. The hull of the junk was driven relentlessly forward on the storm surge, like a surfboard riding the crest of a wave. The captain and the crew had vanished at the first sign of the approaching storm, escaping in the small boats that trailed the junk like pilot fish on the belly of shark. They would weather the storm in whatever island shelter they could find; then, if the junk survived, they would return. If not, another ship always came along in time.
Indy and the others had fewer choices.
They had made themselves fast to a cargo hatch in the waist of the ship, with their backs against one another. Before the storm hit, Bryce had cut the rope binding Musashi's wrists. Indy had placed his fedora inside his jacket and zipped it up. Then he had intertwined hands with Faye on his left and Mystery on his right.
They could hear the storm approaching, and it sounded like a hundred steam locomotives rushing over the water toward them.
"Dr. Jones," Mystery shouted.
"What?"
"I'm scared."
"So am I," Indy replied. "But just hold on to my hand, no matter what."
The masts of the junk were carried away like twigs in the first great rush of water over the deck. The hull rolled completely over. For nearly a minute Indy and the others were beneath the water, holding their breath and holding tight, until the hull finally righted itself.
Pounded by ninety-foot waves and scourged by winds that sometimes reached two hundred miles an hour, the castle sections at the bow and stern were quickly broken away. The timbers of the hull poked up like skeletal ribs in the open places, and seawater foamed through, in and out of the cargo hatch, but the waist section of the hull held together.
Then another wave tossed the hull in the opposite direction, and the hull rode the crest until it was suspended over a canyon of surging water.
Mystery screamed as the deck slid from beneath her feet.
Indy's hand tightened around her wrist.
She dangled for a moment over the abyss.
"Mysti!" Faye shouted.
"I've got her," Indy said.
At the same moment, Bryce's grip on the cargo hold failed and he plunged feetfirst into the angry sea, his white-jacketed arms windmilling all the way down.
Then Indy pulled Mystery to the protection of his side as the hulk came crashing back down toward the sea.
The storm continued for more than an hour unabated, but the relentless action of the wind and water rendered Indy and the others unconscious long before that. The cargo section of the hull was awash, but remained afloat. As the wind subsided, the hulk grounded itself at the shank of a hookshaped islet.
Faye was the first to come around.
After making sure that Mystery was breathing normally, she untangled herself from the ropes that held her fast to the cargo door and arranged her clothes.
Then she shook Indy.
"Jones," she said. "Wake up."
"I'm awake," he insisted. "Where are we?"
"An island," she said. "It looks
One of the monks watching this feat of self-control was so moved that he cut off one of his own hands and offered it to Dharuma in sympathy.
The story, some felt, was meant to defy interpretation, another Zen koan that one is to reflect upon but never really to grasp. Intellectual understanding was an impossibility; the best to be hoped for was a sort of contemplative emotional acceptance.
But as Sokai allowed his fingertips to touch the bandages over his blinded eye, he believed he understood the message. The dark night of his life had been illuminated in the way that lightning reveals the secrets of a summer's night.
The sound of ants screaming had a name.
"Jones," Sokai growled.
And the name had become a curse.
The typhoon overtook the junk in a dark wall of wind and water that blotted out the sky. The hull of the junk was driven relentlessly forward on the storm surge, like a surfboard riding the crest of a wave. The captain and the crew had vanished at the first sign of the approaching storm, escaping in the small boats that trailed the junk like pilot fish on the belly of shark. They would weather the storm in whatever island shelter they could find; then, if the junk survived, they would return. If not, another ship always came along in time.
Indy and the others had fewer choices.
They had made themselves fast to a cargo hatch in the waist of the ship, with their backs against one another. Before the storm hit, Bryce had cut the rope binding Musashi's wrists. Indy had placed his fedora inside his jacket and zipped it up. Then he had intertwined hands with Faye on his left and Mystery on his right.
They could hear the storm approaching, and it sounded like a hundred steam locomotives rushing over the water toward them.
"Dr. Jones," Mystery shouted.
"What?"
"I'm scared."
"So am I," Indy replied. "But just hold on to my hand, no matter what."
The masts of the junk were carried away like twigs in the first great rush of water over the deck. The hull rolled completely over. For nearly a minute Indy and the others were beneath the water, holding their breath and holding tight, until the hull finally righted itself.
Pounded by ninety-foot waves and scourged by winds that sometimes reached two hundred miles an hour, the castle sections at the bow and stern were quickly broken away. The timbers of the hull poked up like skeletal ribs in the open places, and seawater foamed through, in and out of the cargo hatch, but the waist section of the hull held together.
Then another wave tossed the hull in the opposite direction, and the hull rode the crest until it was suspended over a canyon of surging water.
Mystery screamed as the deck slid from beneath her feet.
Indy's hand tightened around her wrist.
She dangled for a moment over the abyss.
"Mysti!" Faye shouted.
"I've got her," Indy said.
At the same moment, Bryce's grip on the cargo hold failed and he plunged feetfirst into the angry sea, his white-jacketed arms windmilling all the way down.
Then Indy pulled Mystery to the protection of his side as the hulk came crashing back down toward the sea.
The storm continued for more than an hour unabated, but the relentless action of the wind and water rendered Indy and the others unconscious long before that. The cargo section of the hull was awash, but remained afloat. As the wind subsided, the hulk grounded itself at the shank of a hookshaped islet.
Faye was the first to come around.
After making sure that Mystery was breathing normally, she untangled herself from the ropes that held her fast to the cargo door and arranged her clothes.
Then she shook Indy.
"Jones," she said. "Wake up."
"I'm awake," he insisted. "Where are we?"
"An island," she said. "It looks
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