..续本文上一页all day until at nightfall we reached a small hill with a crystal-clear waterfall. The sound of falling water echoed throughout the area. We stopped here and rested for the night without any incidents.

　　The next morning, after we had finished our rice porridge, we set out again. At about 1 p.m. we stopped for rest under the shade of a tree. This is where the lay man said goodbye and hurried on ahead of us. We never saw him again. Phra Khien and I walked on until it was almost dark, when we came to a village. We asked the people there if they had seen anyone walk past their village earlier that afternoon, but it seemed that no one had.

　　The next day we left for Chieng Saen, where we spent a few days staying in an orchard before heading on to Chieng Rai. In Chieng Rai we stayed at a small cemetery outside of town and there met an old monk, Grandfather Myyn Haan, who had been a follower of mine before his ordination. He introduced us to the chief of the Chieng Rai provincial police so that the chief of police could help us on our way back to Lampang. The chief of police seemed happy to help. He got us on a bus that we took as far as Phayao, where we got off and traveled on foot past Phaa Thai cave — the trail was really overgrown — and then on into Lampang. We spent one night at a small temple just to the southwest of the Lampang railroad station, and the next morning set out on foot along the railroad tracks.

　　We came to a cave at one point — a place named Tham Kaeng Luang (Grand Rapids Cave) — where we spent three nights. It was a comfortable place to stay, very peaceful and quiet. We went for alms in a nearby village, but no one paid much attention to us. For two days we had nothing to eat but rice — not even a grain of salt.

　　The third day, before going out for alms, I made a vow: "Today if I don”t get anything to eat with my rice, I”m not going to eat at all." Sure enough, I got nothing but a ball of glutinous rice. When we got back to the cave, I sat thinking about the trip ahead of us, and then said to Phra Khien, "Today I”m going to donate my rice to the fish. Even if somebody comes to donate heaps of food, I”m still not going to eat. How about you

　　 Are you with me

　　"

　　"I”m afraid I can”t go along with you," he answered. "I”ve had nothing but rice for two days now, and I”m starting to feel weak."

　　"In that case," I said, "I”m going on ahead. If you want to eat, you can stay here. Maybe someone will come with food for you." So I gathered my things and left. I told myself, "Today I”m not going to ask anyone for food, either by going for alms or by out-and-out asking. Only if someone invites me to have food will I be willing to eat."

　　After walking for an hour I passed a small village of three households. A woman came running out of one of the houses, raised her hands in respect and invited me into her home to have some food. "My husband shot a barking deer yesterday and I”m afraid of the sin. So I”d like to make merit with a monk. You”ve just got to come to my house and have something to eat."

　　I was feeling a little hungry from having had nothing but rice to eat for two days, plus not having had anything at all that morning, so I said to myself, "Okay. Go ahead and have a little barking deer." I accepted the woman”s invitation, left the railroad tracks and sat down in a grove growing near her home. She invited me into the house, but I said, "This is where I”m sitting, so this is where I”ll eat." She brought out two trays of food plus a basket of glutinous rice, and I ate my fill. When I finished I chanted blessings for her and then was on my way.

　　After two days of walking along the railroad tracks, I reached the town of Uttaradit. Although I had quite a few followers in town, I didn”t want to tell anyone I had come, so I went …

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