Together with other monks, Govinda used to spend the time of rest between pilgrimages in the pleasure-grove, which the courtesan Kamala had given to the followers of Gotama fift. He heard talk of an old ferryman, who lived one days journey away by the river, and who was regarded as a wise man by many. When Govinda went ba his way, he chose the path to the ferry, eager to see the ferryman. Because, though he had lived his entire life by the rules, though he was also looked upon with veion by the younger monks on at of his age and his modesty, the restlessness and the searg still had not perished from his heart.
He came to the river and asked the old man to ferry him over, and when they got off the boat oher side, he said to the old man: "Youre very good to us monks and pilgrims, you have already ferried many of us across the river. Arent you too, ferryman, a searcher for the right path?"
Quoth Siddhartha, smiling from his old eyes: "Do you call yourself a searcher, oh venerable ohough you are already of an old in years and are wearing the robe of Gotamas monks?"
"Its true, Im old," spoke Govinda, "but I havent stopped searg. Never Ill stop searg, this seems to be my destiny. You too, so it seems to me, have been searg. Would you like to tell me something, oh honourable one?"
Quoth Siddhartha: "What should I possibly have to tell you, oh venerable one? Perhaps that youre searg far too much? That in all that searg, you dont find the time for finding?"
"How e?" asked Govinda.
"When someone is searg," said Siddhartha, "then it might easily happen that the only thing his eyes still see is that what he searches for, that he is uo find anything, to let anythier his mind, because he always thinks of nothing but the object of his search, because he has a goal, because he is obsessed by the goal. Searg means: having a goal. But finding means: being free, being open, having no goal. You, oh venerable one, are perhaps indeed a searcher, because, striving for yoal, there are many things you dont see, which are directly in front of your eyes."
"I dont quite ua," asked Govinda, "what do you mean by this?"
Quoth Siddhartha: "A long time ago, oh venerable one, many years ago, youve once before been at this river and have found a sleeping man by the river, and have sat down with him to guard his sleep. But, oh Govinda, you did nhe sleeping man."
Astonished, as if he had been the object of a magic spell, the monk looked into the ferrymans eyes.
"Are you Siddhartha?" he asked with a timid voice. "I wouldnt have reised you this time as well! From my heart, Im greeting you, Siddhartha; from my heart, Im happy to see you once again! Youve ged a lot, my friend.--And so youve now bee a ferryman?"
In a friendly manner, Siddhartha laughed. "A ferryman, yes. Many people, Govinda, have to ge a lot, have to wear many a robe, I am one of those, my dear. Be wele, Govinda, and spend the night in my hut."
Govinda stayed the night i and slept on the bed which used to be Vasudevas bed. Many questions he posed to the friend of his youth, many things Siddhartha had to tell him from his life.
When in the m the time had e to start the days journey, Govinda said, not without hesitation, these words: "Before Ill tinue on my path, Siddhartha, permit me to ask one more question. Do you have a teag? Do you have a faith, or a knowledge, you follow, which helps you to live and to dht?"
Quoth Sidd