..续本文上一页e feeling that someone was stepping on his legs, his stomach, his back, etc. — which had everyone afraid of the place. When I heard this, I wanted to test the truth of the rumor myself. Ajaan Mun himself had told me that Bhikkhu Chai once came to this cave to spend the night, but couldn”t get any sleep because he kept hearing the sound of someone walking in and out of the cave all night long.

　　It was a very deep cave but, still, Ajaan Mun had told me to come here and spend the night. The outcome of my stay was that there was nothing out of the ordinary. We didn”t encounter anything unusual at all.

　　After leaving the cave, we went down to stay at a spot where we met another monk named Choei. After talking a while, we seemed to hit it off well, so I invited him to come with me and wander some more around the Doi Saket area. As for Phra Khien, he left us and returned to Baan Pong.

　　One day, as I was wandering with Phra Choei, some villagers built a little place for us to stay in the middle of a large cemetery. The cemetery was full of graves and dotted with the remains of old cremation fires. White, weathered bones were all over the place. Phra Choei and I stayed there for quite a long time.

　　After a while some villagers came and invited Phra Choei to go stay in another spot, which meant that I had to stay on in the cemetery alone. There were the remains of an old cremation fire about six meters from where I was staying.

　　A few days later, well before dawn, a villager came with a little cone of flowers and incense, saying that he was going to bring someone to stay with me as my disciple. I thought to myself, "At least now I”ll be a little less lonely." I had been feeling scared for quite a few days running, to the point that every time I sat in meditation I”d start feeling numb all over.

　　Later that morning, after my meal, a large group of villagers came, bringing a corpse with them. The corpse hadn”t been placed in a coffin, but was simply wrapped in a cloth. As soon as I saw it, I told myself, "You”re in for it now." If I were to leave, I”d lose face with the villagers, but the idea of staying on didn”t appeal to me either. Then the realization hit me: The corpse was probably my "disciple."

　　The villagers started the cremation that afternoon at about four, not too far from where I was staying, giving me a very good view of the corpse. When it caught fire, its arms and legs started sticking up into the air, as yellow as if they had been smeared with turmeric. By evening the body had fallen apart at the waist — it was still black in the flames. Just before nightfall, the villagers returned home, leaving me all by myself. I hurried back to my banana-leaf hut and sat in meditation, ordering my mind not to leave the hut — to the point where my ears went blank. I didn”t hear any sound at all. My mind still had a certain amount of alertness, but no perception of where I was, of courage, of fear, or of anything at all. I stayed this way until daybreak, when Phra Choei happened back. Now that I had a companion I felt a little bit more secure.

　　Phra Choei had a habit of sitting in the hut with me and having Dhamma talks — he”d do the talking, I”d do the listening — but I could tell from the tone of his voice that he wasn”t all he made himself out to be. Once a villager came and asked him, "Are you afraid of the dead

　　" Phra Choei didn”t say yes or no. All he said was, "What”s there to be afraid of

　　 When a person dies, there isn”t anything left at all. Why, you yourself can eat dead chickens, dead ducks, dead cows and dead water buffaloes without a second thought." That was the sort of thing he”d always be saying. I thought to myself, "What a show-off. He doesn”t want other people to know he”s afraid. Well, tomorrow we”ll have to see just how …

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