Mola
Long, long ago the Yugur people drove their cattle, sheep and camels all the way from far-off Xinjiang Province to the foot of the Qilian Mountains in Gansu Province. On their way they crossed great deserts and swamps, always searching for water and grass as they went. The pastures below the Qilian Mountains were excellent and the herdsman were delighted to see their animals grow fat and strong. At the foot of the mountains, however, there was an ice cave inhabited by a great Snow Demon. This demon made trouble regularly, often bringing great disaster to the grasslands. Whenever people saw clouds of white mist rising from the cave under the mountains, they would know at once that the Snow demon was in a bad mood. In no time at all there would be a violent snowstorm and thick snow would smother the grasslands for weeks on end. There would be no firewood to burn, the animals would go hungry and the lambs and calves, unable to withstand the bitter cold, would freeze to death.
Time and time again people would burn incense and kowtow to the Snow Demon, but he was quite unmoved by their pleas. Now, there was a young man called Mola who, on seeing the evil doing of the Snow Demon, felt his heart swell with anger. One day, Mola went to his grandfather and asked: "Grandpa, that Snow Demon is so wicked. Isn't it about time we get rid of him?"
"My child," his grandfather replied, "that demon has such remarkable powers that nobody dares take him on!"
"Is there really nobody in the whole world who can overcome the Snow Demon?" Mola asked.
"Only the Sun God can overcome him, but he lives far away in the Eastern Sea and to get there you must cross high mountains and cover vast distances. Who could possibly go to him to learn his magic and beg his treasures?"
When Mola heard his grandfather's words he beat his chest and said resolutely: "If that Snow Demon can be defeated, I'd be quite willing to take the risk of visiting the Sun God!"
Hearing that Mola was setting off in search of the Sun God, the people of the grasslands all came to give him a grand send-off. One old herdsman from the eastern sands gave Mola his precious horse, which could run three thousands miles in one day. An old woman from the western sands gave him her valuable waterproof cloak. A hunter from the southern hills gave him a magic arrow which never missed its target and a shepherdess from the northern hills gave him one of her whips. Amid cheers of encouragement our little hero donned his cloak, slung his bow and arrow over his shoulder and mounted the precious horse. Then, holding his whip aloft, he set out for the east, where the sun rises, as fast as he could ride.
The precious horse carried Mola across expanses of grassland and over great snowy mountains. On and on he sped until suddenly they found themselves confronted by a towering stone cliff obstructing the way. The name of this cliff was Knife Edge, as it pierced the clouds. On seeing its height the precious horse began sweating all over and trotted back and forth along the foot of the cliff; to cross this mountain seemed an almost impossible task. Just as Mola was beginning to fear that they would never get across, he heard a lark singing just above his head:Brother Mola, brother Mola,
Of course your horse can pierce the sky.
Why not give your whip a try?Mola cracked his whip, and there was a great clap of thunder. The whip shot up into the clouds, carrying both horse and rider clear across the Knife Edge. Mola continued riding east and after many thousand of miles, reached the edge of the forest. This forest was called the forest of the Black Tiger, for it was inhabited by a black tiger spirit. Seeing a stranger passing through its forest, the Black Tiger gave a mighty roar and leapt out towards Mola. Terrified, the precious horse swung round and started heading back the way they had come, the Black Tiger following close at his heels. At that moment Mola again heard the lark singing:
Brother Mola, brother Mola,
The Black Tiger can harm no hero.
Why not try your bow and arrow?"
Mola took his bow, fitted the magic arrow and turning around in his saddle, took aim at the Black Tiger. There was a twang as the arrow was released. The Black Tiger roared and fell dead to the ground.
Mola turned his horse around and once again started galloping east. After many thousand of miles he at last reached the shores of the Eastern Sea. Far in the distance he could see the palace of the Sun God glistening brightly in the red glow on the horizon. But the ocean was so vast and the waves so mighty that the precious horse gave a terrified neigh and would go no further.
Just as Mola was beginning to feel anxious, he suddenly heard the lark singing above his head:Brother Mola, brother Mola,
When a hero meets danger he casts out all fear.
You have a waterproof cloak you can wear.Mola put on his cloak, brandished his whip and urged his horse to plunge forward into the waves. At once he saw the waves retreat as the sea formed a smooth path in front of him. The precious horse galloped across the surface of the water, straight towards the gate of the Sun God's palace.
The gatekeeper of the palace of the Sun God was one of his female disciples, a young and beautiful girl clad in red and green. Seeing a stranger riding straight towards the palace across the water, she at once cried out, "Hey there! You can't just storm in like this. We'll see what my magic weapon can do to you." So saying, she released a magic eagle which flew over to grab Mola. Mola took his bow and arrow and in no time at all had shot the eagle down, while the precious horse continued to carry him quickly towards the gate. In her alarm, the girl rushed inside the gates, which she slammed shut. Mola dismounted and, thundering with his fists on the great gold and silver gate, started shouting:Oh Sun God, Sun God, please let me in!
The folk of the grasslands are facing great peril,
I need your weapon to rid them of evil!"He went on banging and shouting until his fists became bruised and his voice became hoarse. For three days and three nights he shouted and banged until at last he managed to rouse the Sun God. The Sun God told the girl at the gate to let Mola in. At last Mola was led before the Sun God's throne. The Sun God wore a red cloak and a golden crown. He waved a gilded fan and his whole body shone with a golden light, so bright that those who saw him found it impossible to keep their eyes open. Stroking his long, red beard he smiled and said, "Well, now, my brave young fellow! I knew of your coming long ago. Now I shall lend you a magic fire-shooting calabash and you shall learn the spells to release and control its magic. When you have defeated the Snow Demon, bring the calabash back to me and I shall accept you as one of my disciples."
So saying, he took from behind him a brilliant red calabash which he handed to Mola. Then he ordered his disciple to teach Mola the spell for releasing and controlling its magic. Mola thanked the Sun God, and followed the girl back to the gate of the palace, but when he saw his precious horse he discovered that its hair had turned quite white. In surprise, he asked the reason for this. The girl replied: "One day here is one year in the world of ordinary mortals. You have spent four days here, so your horse has already grown old."
When Mola heard this he felt quite worried and at once asked the girl to start teaching him the spells. Now although these spells were quite short, they were extremely difficult to recite and hard to remember. The spell to release the magic could only be mastered after reciting it eighty times. After this the girl went on to teach Mola the spell to control the magic. But by this time Mola felt so flustered and anxious about his home and the fate which might have befallen the grasslands during his long absence that all he wanted was to get back there at once and destroy the Snow Demon. He had great difficulty learning the spell to control the magic, and after reciting it forty times only managed to get a rough grasp of it. Then he bid a hasty farewell to the girl, mounted his horse and set off on his homeward journey.
Since his departure, Mola's friends and relations had been waiting daily for him to return and rid them of the Snow Demon. But as the years went by and there was no sign of him, people began to sigh, "Poor Mola! Most probably he will never return."
In the winter of the eight year Mola finally returned. Tired, footsore and covered all over in dust, he trudged home. It turned out that the horse he had set out on had grown so weak that it died of exhaustion at the side of the road. Not afraid of the high mountains and vast distances, brave young Mola had walked the rest of the way home.
On the day after Mola's return, the Snow Demon started letting out clouds of white mist from his ice cave and there followed the most terrible snowstorm. At once Mola set out to fight the demon. Clasping the magic calabash, he braved the blizzards and made his way to the foot of the Qilian Mountains. The villagers followed far behind, beating drums and banging gongs in encouragement.
Striding to the foot of the mountains Mola quietly recited the spell to release the magic and with all his might threw the magic calabash into the air. In a flash of red light the calabash flew like a fireball straight into the Snow Demon's ice cave. Within seconds the ice cave was filled with fire and the wicked Snow Demon, who had brought centuries of misery to the grasslands, perished inside.
Although he Snow Demon was dead, the fire inside the cave continued to burn fiercely. Mola wanted to recite the spell to control the magic and retrieve the calabash, but he found that it had gone clean out of his head. The fire raged for three days and three nights and Mola was afraid that a great fire might break out on the grasslands, bringing disaster to his people. With great resolve he plucked up courage and leapt into the flames to retrieve the magic calabash. He pounced on the calabash, smothering the hole from which the flames were shooting and gradually the fire began to go down. But poor brave Mola was completely consumed by the flames and transformed into a red stone mountain towering above the edge of the grasslands. This mountain is always hot and neither trees nor grass will grow on it. Its heat melts the ice and snow for miles around, increasing the amount of water in White Poplar River. As a result, the grasslands are more luxuriant than ever, the sheep and cattle grow fat and strong and the Yugur people pass their days in peace and prosperity.
Whenever hunters go hunting in the mountains or herdsmen go out to graze their sheep and cattle, they gaze from afar at the towering peak of Red Stone Mountain. Their hearts are filled with gratitude, and they pay their respects to that brave son of the grasslands, Mola, who rid them of the Snow Demon.
Mola was published in Hertz, E. (ed.) 1985. The Magic Bird. Folk Tales from China (Seventh series). Peking. 140-149. The story was translated by Stephen Hallett, and illustrated by Zhang Shiyan.
A Chinese language version appeared in An Jiànjun, An Qingpíng, An Xùhuá, Hè Yong, and Qiáng Chéngjiang. 1984. Yùgùzú mínjian wénxué zuòpin xuan [Anthology of Yugur folk literature]. Peking. 1-6. The story was arranged by Qiáo Wéisen and Ye Feng, and originally published in Zhongguó xiaoshù mínzú wénxué zuòpin xuan [Anthology of folk literature of China's minority peoples], 2nd fascicle.
Mola is the Chinese transcription of Western Yugur mïla, meaning 'child' or 'boy'.
Back to the index of Religious Texts
