[ This is my version of an old eastern martial arts folk-story, which I usually tell as a Christmas story to the children in my Kung Fu classes. It is, by far, my favourite story, as it is fun to tell, but also contains some very profound martial wisdom. Enjoy! – Dave ]
The Swordsman and his Cat
Our story begins in ancient China, many hundreds of years ago, in a small village in the bamboo forests of humid, subtropical southern China.
A scarred old swordsman lived in a small house on the edge of the village. A former member of the Imperial army, he kept mainly to himself. His wife had died years earlier, and they had never been blessed with children, so he spent his days working in his garden, tending his growing plants and making sure that his chickens didn’t get into too much trouble.
He had survived many battles from his time in the army and had seen many things over the years which he would rather forget, but couldn’t. Often, he would wake in the night, bathed in sweat, reliving his memories, and his unwillingness to talk to others had turned him into somewhat of a recluse.
Sadly, the names of both the swordsman and the village have been lost over time, as has the name of his cat, with whom he lived. His cat was quite an ordinary cat and had lived with the swordsman for some years. The swordsman provided a roof over the cat’s head, as well as a modest share of his food supplies. In return, the cat kept the swordsman company, and his house and garden clear of mice and other unwanted rodents.
Life would have gone on in much the same way for the rest of the swordsman’s life, but one day everything changed.
The swordsman was in his garden, sitting on his haunches, tending to some of his green leafy vegetables. The cat was basking in the sun nearby, taking, as only cats can, a very extended break from doing very little. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, the swordsman noticed a low shadow moving out of the edge of the forest towards his house. Battling the pain from his old joints he slowly stood and turned towards the intruder, who turned out to be a very large rat who was walking in a straight line towards his front door.
The Rat
The cat raised its head, and seeing that something was going on, got up and came to stand next to the old swordsman. Together they stood and watched in amazement while, without even acknowledging their existence, the rat just boldly walked in through the front door of the little house. They stood there for a while, waiting for the rat to come out again, but there was no sign of it, so eventually the swordsman turned to the cat.
“Come on, cat. You know your job. Get in there and deal with that cheeky rat. There’ll be a special treat in your dinner tonight as a reward, once you’ve got rid of it.”
So the cat stalked gracefully towards the house, eyes fierce and whiskers spread, and ready for its hunt to begin. Flowing through the doorway on its padded feet, it disappeared into the house, and the swordsman waited outside in anticipation of its victorious return. Soon the sounds of fighting came from inside the house, and the swordsman nodded to himself. The rat would soon come running out of the door and flee back into the forest.
However, moments later it was the cat which came rushing out of the door, looking scared and beaten. It ran over to the swordsman and flopped to the ground beside him, before beginning to lick its wounds. Clearly it had been no match for the huge rat, who it seemed was happy to remain in their home.
Sighing to himself, the swordsman realised that it was now up to him to dispatch the rat, and so he walked, with an outward appearance of calm, towards the front door to his house. Peering inside, there was no immediate sign of the rat, so the swordsman stepped through the doorway, and took his old sword down from the wall.
As he drew the sword from its scabbard, it was clear that the swordsman had continue to take care of it. The blade was polished and sharp and deeply familiar in his hand. The swordsman prepared to kill the rat.
He could hear sounds coming through one of the doorways, and so, sword held expertly before him, the movements of his other hand balancing the blade, on now quiet feet, he approached the sounds.
As he came to the doorway, the swordsman saw the rat sitting in the middle of his food supplies which had been messily spread around the floor. It regarded him without fear in its eyes, and just continued to munch on his precious food stocks. Gasping in amazement at the audacity of the rat, the swordsman began a sequence of fierce movements which would clearly bring the rat quickly to a grizzly end.
His blade swung, flashed and darted out to stab the rat’s heart, but quickly the rat darted out of the way of each attack. Becoming frustrated, as events quickly seemed not to be going as expected, the swordsman accidentally swung wider than he had meant to, shattering a chair and stumbling.
Almost too quick to see, the rat darted towards him, teeth flashing, and bit him, then rolling past the broken chair, it gripped a broken chair leg in its front paws, and held it towards the swordsman like a cudgel. Now, as the swordsman, attempted to attack the rat, each time the sword came near it, the rat swung the chair leg in defence.
The battle went on for some time, the swordsman picking up various bites and bruises, and at last, the rat jumped right over the top of his head, laughing menacingly at him, and finally the swordsman had to admit that he was outmatched. He withdrew from the house and went to sit with the cat outside, and together they tended to their wounds.
Perhaps I should have mentioned earlier on in this story, as you will now have noticed, that some animals are not quite the same as we are used to them these days. For one thing, rats can laugh and use broken chair legs as weapons. Not only this but cats can talk to people without any of the normal language barriers and, as we will discover soon, can also learn, and even become masters of kung fu. But let’s not get ahead of the story, otherwise it may be spoilt.
So the swordsman and his cat sat together in the garden and having tended to their wounds, lit a fire and sat with a cup of Chinese tea. Staring into the flames and feeling quite defeated they began to speak at some length about their problem.
Eventually the cat said, “I can’t see any other way of dealing with this horrible rat. I have heard of a kung fu master cat, who lives in the next village. The journey is not that far. I have heard that he is quite amazing, and I’m sure that he must be able to deal with this problem for us.”
After thinking on this for a while, the swordsman agreed, and without delay, they began the journey to the next village. It was perhaps half a day away, and so a few hours later the shapes of houses appeared through the bamboo as they approached the village.
The Black Cat
It was still light and, seeing a villager cutting wood nearby, they politely asked regarding the whereabouts of the kung fu master cat. The villager knew straight away who they were talking about, as it seemed that this cat was a local celebrity of sorts. Telling them to look out for an athletic black cat, he explained how to find the master’s house. And so, after a short walk they had found the right place.
As they approached the house it was clear that the master was practicing kung fu in his backyard. His fur was dark and glossy, and he was muscular and athletic, with powerful legs and fierce-looking claws and teeth. Not only was his appearance quite remarkable, seeming the model of good health, but he was also leaping around the yard, jumping and spinning, doing powerful and athletic kung fu movements. He could also run up walls and quickly along wooden beams without any apparent loss of balance or break in his movements.
The swordsman and his cat watched this display for a while, feeling very impressed, and becoming quite certain that their rat problem would soon be a thing of the past. Waiting politely until the master finished his training, they then approached the black cat, and after greeting him politely they explained their problem.
Quickly the cat agreed to come to their aid, explaining confidently that he had never been defeated by a rat, and so, without further ceremony they began the short journey back to the swordsman’s village.
Arriving at the village they quickly made their way to the house, and the swordsman pointed to the doorway, explaining that the rat was inside. Reassuring them that everything would be ok, the cat walked up to the house, entered through the door, and pulled it closed behind him.
Soon the sounds of battle could be heard coming from the house. There was crashing and banging, meowing and squeaking, the sounds of furniture breaking and of china being smashed. The swordsman and his cat looked on excitedly, waiting for the rat to suddenly flee the house. But shortly afterwards, and much to their amazement, instead it was the black cat who suddenly came rushing out of the house, looking battered and bruised and utterly beaten. The rat had won!
So the swordsman and his cat and the kung fu master cat sat together in the garden and, having tended to the black cat’s wounds, lit a fire and sat with a cup of Chinese tea. Staring into the flames and feeling quite defeated they began to speak at some length about their problem.
Eventually the black cat said, “I can’t see any other way of dealing with this terrible rat. I know of another kung fu master cat, who lives in a village a little further away – maybe a day’s journey. He is better than me, and I’m quite sure that he will be able to deal with this problem for us.”
After thinking on this for a while, the swordsman agreed, and without delay, they began the journey to the village. It was perhaps a day away, so they slept rough by the road that night, and the next day the shapes of houses appeared through the bamboo as they approached the village.
The Tiger-stiped Cat
Seeing a villager collecting water from a well, they politely asked regarding the whereabouts of the kung fu master cat. The villager knew straight away who they were talking about, as it seemed that this cat was quite well known locally because he was also a healer. Telling them to look out for a tiger-striped cat, she explained how to find the master’s house. And so, after a short walk they had found the right place.
As they approached the house it was clear that the master was practicing kung fu in his backyard. His fur looked healthy and glossy, and he appeared very solid, with a piercing gaze, and he seemed to be almost buzzing with energy. Not only was his appearance quite remarkable, seeming the model of good health, but he was slowly practicing his kung fu movements, taking deep, slow breaths in complete harmony with the fluid movements. He was clearly a master of chi, or internal energy.
The swordsman and his cat watched this display for a while, feeling very impressed, again becoming quite certain that their rat problem would soon be a thing of the past. Waiting politely until the master finished his training, they then approached the tiger-striped cat, and after greeting him politely they explained their problem.
Quickly the cat agreed to come to their aid, explaining confidently that he had never been defeated by a rat, and so, without further ceremony they began the journey back to the swordsman’s village.
Arriving at the village they quickly made their way to the house, and the swordsman pointed to the doorway, explaining that the rat was inside. Reassuring them that everything would be ok, the cat walked up to the house, entered through the door, and pulled it closed behind him.
Soon the sounds of battle could be heard coming from the house. There was crashing and banging, meowing and squeaking, the sounds of furniture breaking and of china being smashed. The swordsman, his cat, and the black kung fu master cat looked on excitedly, waiting for the rat to suddenly flee the house. But shortly afterwards, and much to their amazement, instead it was the tiger-striped cat who suddenly came rushing out of the house, looking battered and bruised and utterly beaten. The rat had won again!
So the swordsman and his cat and the two kung fu master cats sat together in the garden and, having tended to the tiger-striped cat’s wounds, lit a fire and sat with a cup of Chinese tea. Staring into the flames and feeling quite defeated they began to speak at some length about their problem.
Eventually the tiger-striped cat said, “I can’t see any other way of dealing with this dastardly rat. I know of another kung fu master cat, who lives in a village a little further away – maybe half a week’s journey. He is better than me, and I’m quite sure that he will be able to deal with this problem for us.”
After thinking on this for a while, the swordsman agreed, and without delay, they began the journey to the village. It was perhaps three days away, and so eventually the shapes of houses appeared through the bamboo as they approached the village.
The Old, Grey Cat
Seeing a villager tending to vegetables at a nearby garden, they politely asked regarding the whereabouts of the kung fu master cat. The villager knew straight away who they were talking about, as he was actually a student of this master. Telling them to look out for an old, grey cat, he explained how to find the master’s house. And so, after a short walk they had found the right place.
As they approached the house it was clear that the master was practicing kung fu with his students in his backyard. His fur was grey, and he appeared quite old, but also with a piercing gaze, and he still seemed full of vitality, despite his advanced years. Not only was his appearance quite remarkable, but his kung fu movements seemed very subtle but powerful.
They could hear him teaching his students, explaining that force should never be used against force, and that harmony was the way. As he spoke, he invited his students to attack him in any way they chose. Each time a student rushed forwards to attack him, he deflected or neutralised whatever attack came his way, and sent his attacker flying away, or sometimes sprawling in the dirt at his feet, but never seriously hurt. And much to their amazement, he did all this without having to use any apparent strength.
The swordsman and his cat watched this display for a while, feeling very impressed, and now completely certain that their rat problem would soon be a thing of the past. Waiting politely until the master finished his class, they then approached the old, grey cat, and after greeting him politely they explained their problem.
Quickly the cat agreed to come to their aid, explaining patiently that he had never been defeated by a rat, and so, without further ceremony they began the journey back to the swordsman’s village.
Arriving after a few days at the village they quickly made their way to the house, and the swordsman pointed to the doorway, explaining that the rat was inside. Reassuring them that everything would be ok, the cat walked up to the house, entered through the door, and pulled it closed behind him.
Soon the sounds of battle could be heard coming from the house. There was crashing and banging, meowing and squeaking. Most of the furniture had by now been broken, and the china smashed, and instead it was the sounds of exertion that they heard, and of a body impacting the walls and floor. The swordsman, his cat, and the black and tiger-striped kung fu master cats looked on excitedly, waiting for the rat to suddenly flee the house. But shortly afterwards, and much to their amazement, instead it was the old, grey cat who suddenly came rushing out of the house, looking battered and bruised and utterly beaten. The rat had won once again!
So the swordsman and his cat and the three kung fu master cats sat together in the garden and, having tended to the old, grey cat’s wounds, lit a fire and sat with a cup of Chinese tea. Staring into the flames and feeling quite defeated they began to speak at some length about their problem.
Eventually the old, grey cat said, “I can’t see any other way of dealing with this horrific rat. I know of another kung fu master cat, who lives in a village quite a bit further away – maybe a week’s journey. He is better than me, and I’m quite sure that he will be able to deal with this problem for us.”
“But,” he added, “you will have to trust me on this, because when you look at this cat you might not believe that he has the skills to defeat the rat.”
After thinking on this for a while, the swordsman agreed, and without delay, they began the journey to the village. It was perhaps a week away, and so eventually the shapes of houses appeared through the bamboo as they approached the village.
The Unremarkable Cat
The old, grey cat took them straight to the house of the cat which he had spoken about, and sure enough, outside the house sat a quite unremarkable-looking old cat. Appearing quite ordinary and aged.
And sure enough, the swordsman, after looking at the cat for a short while, turned to the old, grey cat, and asked, “I know that you warned me about this, but are you absolutely sure? This cat really doesn’t look like he could deal with even the smallest mouse, let alone our terrible rat…!”
Appearing resigned to the doubt of the swordsman, the old grey cat replied, “Yes, yes. Just trust me. This is the cat.”
So they then approached the unremarkable old cat, and after greeting him politely they explained their problem. As they explained, the cat continued to stare off into the distance, and they weren’t completely sure if he had heard them or not. But at the end of the tale, the cat nodded and stood, waiting for them to lead him to the rat, and so off they set, beginning the journey home again.
Arriving eventually at the village they made their way to the house, and the swordsman pointed to the doorway, explaining that the rat was inside. Without saying anything, the cat walked up to the house and entered through the door, leaving it open behind him.
The swordsman and the four other cats watched on in amazement as, upon seeing this unremarkable appearing old cat approach it, the rat just froze. Appearing completely relaxed, the cat then just walked over, picked it up by the scruff of its neck, and threw it out of the house. As soon as its feet hit the floor, the rat fled back into the bamboo forest and was gone!
The Unremarkable Marvellous Old Cat
“WOW! How did you DO that?” exclaimed the onlookers as the previously unremarkable looking, but now clearly quite marvellous old cat sat down, appearing completely unaware of the amazing feat that it had just performed.
Looking for the first time at the swordsman, and the other cats, it replied, “Come, let’s have a feast to celebrate the end of your problem and, while we eat, I shall explain to you what I am able.”
So the swordsman and the other cats quickly prepared a victory feast, giving the marvellous old cat the place of honour at the head of the table, waiting politely for him to start his food before they began their own. When the old cat could see that they had eaten enough that they were no longer hungry, he began to speak.
“You are all still young, and although experienced, you still have much to learn.”
Turning first of all to the black cat, he said, “You have trained very hard, focussing on physical technique, and you are very good at what you do. However, relying on technique must eventually fail, because physical techniques will always be limited. Besides,” he added, “there will always be someone out there who has better technique than you.”
Next, he turned to the tiger-striped cat. “You have also trained very hard, and have risen to a higher level than your young friend. But you must understand the saying that ‘the chi follows the mind’. Deliberate use in this way creates internal resistance, and besides, you are sure to eventually find someone whose chi is stronger than your own.”
“You all need to understand the nature of your opponent in this case. When a rat is cornered in this way, it forgets its life and its desires, it forgets winning or losing, and it forgets its body and mind. Because of this its force becomes as strong as steel, and can’t be beaten by just the power of chi.”
Lastly, he turned to the old, grey cat. “Even with your great skill, your harmonising is still a product of your mind, and so it is not natural. You must understand that conscious thought destroys equilibrium, and obstructs natural movement and hinders your true potential.”
“As for me,” he continued, “the technique I use is emptiness. I do not think, and I do not act. Following the movements of nature, my self disappears, and with no self, no one can oppose me. There is no me, and hence I have no opponent. The slightest conscious thought will separate you from this state, and render this impossible.”
The other cats looked at the marvellous old cat, weighing his words, and doing their very best to understand and remember what he had told them. After a short pause, he continued.
“But once, some years ago, I heard of another cat who had achieved a level of kung fu even greater than mine. I travelled across China to find him, my journey lasting many, many weeks. Eventually I located this venerable old master, but he just seemed to nap all day. He seemed spiritless, as if made of wood, yet wherever he went, the rats just sensed his presence and left. I asked this cat what his secret was, but he didn’t answer me.”
“So, I asked him again, and yet again, but he just remained silent. It was as if he had forgotten himself and everything else, and was dwelling in a state of purposelessness. After some thought, it became clear to me that this is perfectly explained by the old Chinese saying – Those that know, do not speak. Those that speak, do not know.”
“To this day I am still no match for that cat.”