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狼图腾（英文版）　1（1）

As　Chen　Zhen　looked　through　the　telescope　from　his　hiding　place　in　the　snow　cave；　he　saw　the　steely　gaze　of　a　Mongolian　grassland　wolf。　The　fine　hairs　on　his　body　rose　up　like　porcupine　quills；　virtually　pulling　his　shirt　away　from　his　skin。　Old　Man　Bilgee　was　there　beside　him。　This　time　Chen　did　not　feel　as　if　his　soul　had　been　driven　out　of　his　body；　but　sweat　oozed　from　his　pores。　He　had　been　on　the　grassland　two　years　but　still　had　not　lost　his　fear　of　Mongolian　wolves；　especially　in　packs。　Now　he　was　face　to　face　with　a　large　pack　deep　in　the　mountains；　far　from　camp；　his　misty　breath　quivering　in　the　air。　Neither　he　nor　Bilgee　was　armed—no　rifles；　no　knives；　no　lasso　poles；　not　even　something　as　simple　as　a　pair　of　metal　stirrups。　All　they　had　were　two　herding　clubs；　and　if　the　wolves　picked　up　their　scent；　their　sky　burial　would　e　early。

Chen　exhaled　nervously　as　he　turned　to　look　at　the　old　man；　who　was　watching　the　wolf　encirclement　through　the　other　telescope。　“You’re　going　to　need　more　courage　than　that；”　Bilgee　said　softly。　“You’re　like　a　sheep。　A　fear　of　wolves　is　in　your　Chinese　bones。　That’s　the　only　expla—nation　for　why　you　people　have　never　won　a　fight　out　here。”　Getting　no　response；　he　leaned　over　and　whispered；　“Get　a　grip　on　yourself。　If　they　spot　any　movement　from　us；　we’ll　be　in　real　trouble。”　Chen　nodded　and　scooped　up　a　handful　of　snow；　which　he　squeezed　into　a　ball　of　ice。

The　herd　of　Mongolian　gazelles　was　grazing　on　a　nearby　slope；　unaware　of　the　wolf　pack；　which　was　tightening　the　noose；　drawing　closer　to　the　men’s　snow　cave。　Not　daring　to　move；　Chen　felt　frozen　in　place；　like　an　ice　sculpture。　This　was　Chen’s　second　encounter　with　a　wolf　pack　since　ing　to　the　grassland。　A　palpitating　fear　from　his　first　encounter　coursed　through　his　veins。

Two　years　earlier；　in　late　November；　he　had　arrived　in　the　　border—region　pasture　as　a　production　team　member　from　Beijing；　snow　cov—ered　the　land　as　far　as　the　eye　could　see。　The　Olonbulag　is　located　southwest　of　the　Great　Xing’an　mountain　range；　directly　north　of　Bei—jing；　it　shares　a　border　with　Outer　Mongolia。　Historically；　it　was　the　southern　passage　between　Manchuria　and　the　Mongolian　steppes；　and；　as　such；　the　site　of　battles　between　a　host　of　peoples　and　nomadic　tribes；　as　well　as　a　territory　in　which　the　potential　struggles　for　dominance　by　nomads　and　farmers　was　ever　present。

Yurts　had　not　yet　been　assigned　to　the　Beijing　students；　the　　so…called　educated　youth；　so　Chen　had　been　sent　to　live　with　Old　Man　Bilgee　and　his　family；　and　given　duties　as　a　shepherd。　One　day　slightly　more　than　a　month　after　his　arrival；　he　and　the　old　man　were　sent　to　headquarters；　some　eighty　li；　to　fetch　study　materials　and　purchase　daily　necessities。　Just　before　they　were　to　head　back；　the　old　man　was　summoned　to　a　meeting　of　the　revolutionary　mittee。　Since　headquarters　had　said　the　study　materials　had　to　be　delivered　without　delay；　Chen　was　told　to　return　alone。

狼图腾（英文版）　1（2）

As　he　was　about　to　leave；　the　old　man　sped　horses　with　him；　lending　him　his　big；　dark　mount；　a　fast　horse　that　knew　the　way。　Bilgee　warned　Chen　not　to　take　a　shortcut；　but　to　follow　the　wagon　road　back；　since　there　were　yurts　every　twenty　or　thirty　li；　he　ought　to　be　able　to　make　the　trip　without　incident。

As　soon　as　he　was　in　the　saddle　and　on　his　way；　Chen　sensed　the　power　of　his　Mongol　horse　and　felt　the　urge　to　gallop　at　full　speed。　When　they　reached　a　ridge　from　which　he　could　see　the　peak　of　Chaganuul　Moun—tain；　where　the　brigade　was　quartered；　he　forgot　the　old　man’s　warning　and　left　the　road—　which　curved　around　the　mountain；　adding　twenty　li　to　the　trip—to　take　a　shortcut　that　led　straight　to　camp。

The　temperature　began　to　fall；　and　when　he　was　about　halfway　home；　the　sun　shivered　from　the　deepening　cold　before　retreating　to　the　horizon　and　slipping　from　view。　Frigid　air　from　the　snowy　ground　rose　up；　turn—ing　Chen’s　leather　duster　hard　and　brittle。　The　hide　of　his　mount　was　covered　with　a　layer　of　sweat…frost。　Their　pace　slowed　as　the　snow　deep—ened　and　little　hillocks　rose　in　their　path。　They　were　deep　in　the　wilds；　far　from　all　signs　of　habitation。　The　horse　trotted　on；　straight　and　smooth；　so　Chen　relaxed　the　pressure　on　the　bit　to　let　the　horse　determine　the　pace　and　direction；　as　well　as　how　hard　it　wanted　to　work。　For　no　obvious　reason；　Chen　suddenly　tensed；　he　shuddered；　being　fearful　that　the　horse　might　lose　its　way；　fearful　that　the　weather　would　turn　ugly；　fearful　of　being　caught　in　a　snowstorm；　and　fearful　of　freezing　to　death　on　the　glacial　grassland。　The　only　thing　he　forgot　to　fear　was　the　wolves。

Just　before　they　reached　a　ravine；　the　horse　stopped；　pointing　toward　a　spot　down　the　ravine。　It　tossed　its　head　and　snorted；　its　pace　no　longer　steady。　Chen　Zhen；　who　had　never　before　ridden　alone　deep　into　the　snowy　grassland；　had　no　inkling　of　the　danger　ahead。　But　the　agitated　horse；　its　nostrils　flaring；　its　eyes　wide；　turned　to　head　away　from　what　lay　in　front　of　them。　Its　intuition　was　lost　on　Chen；　who　pulled　the　reins　taut　to　turn　the　animal’s　head　and　keep　it　moving　forward　at　a　trot。　Its　gait　grew　increasingly　jerky；　an　erratic　bination　of　walking；　trotting；　and　jolting；　as　if　the　animal　might　bolt　at　any　moment。　Chen　pulled　back　hard　on　the　reins。

As　if　frustrated　that　its　warning　signals　were　not　being　heeded；　the　horse　turned　and　nipped　at　its　rider’s　felt　boot；　and　at　that　moment　Chen　recognized　the　danger　facing　them　by　the　fear　in　the　horse’s　eyes。　But　it　was　too　late；　for　the　horse　had　carried　him　into　the　flared　opening　of　a　gloomy　ravine　on　trembling　legs。

Chen　turned　to　look　down　the　ravine　and　was　so　terrified　he　nearly　fell　off　the　horse。　There　on　a　　snow…covered　slope　not　less　than　fifty　yards　away　was　a　pack　of　golden…hued；　　murderous…looking　Mongolian　wolves；　all　watching　him　straight　on　or　out　of　the　corners　of　their　eyes；　their　gazes　boring　into　him　like　needles。　The　closest　wolves　were　the　biggest；　easily　the　size　of　leopards　and　at　least　twice　the　size　of　the　wolves　he’d　seen　in　the　Beijing　Zoo；　half　again　as　tall　and　as　long；　nose　to　tail。　All　dozen　or　so　of　the　larger　wolves　had　been　sitting　on　the　snowy　ground；　but　they　immediately　stood　up；　their　tails　stretched　out　straight；　like　swords　about　to　be　unsheathed；　or　arrows　on　a　taut　bowstring。　They　were　poised　to　pounce。　The　alpha　male；　surrounded　by　the　others；　was　a　gray　wolf　whose　nearly　white　neck；　chest；　and　abdomen　shone　like　white　gold。　The　pack　consisted　of　thirty　or　forty　animals。

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狼图腾（英文版）　1（3）

Afterward；　when　Chen　and　Bilgee　were　rehashing　the　circumstances　of　the　encounter；　the　old　man　wiped　his　sweaty　brow　with　his　finger　and　said；　“They　must　have　been　holding　a　council。　The　alpha　male　was　likely　passing　out　assignments　for　an　attack　on　a　herd　of　horses　on　the　other　side　of　the　hill。　You’d　have　realized　your　luck　had　you　known　that　when　their　coats　shine；　they　aren’t　hungry。”

In　fact；　Chen’s　mind　was　wiped　clean　the　moment　he　spotted　them；　and　the　last　thing　he　recalled　was　a　muted　but　terrifying　sound　rising　up　to　the　top　of　his　head；　not　unlike　the　thin　whistle　you　get　by　blow—ing　on　the　edge　of　a　coin。　It　must　have　been　the　ping　his　soul　made　as　it　tore　through　his　crown　on　its　way　out。　He　felt　that　his　life　had　stopped　for　a　minute　or　more。

Long　afterward；　whenever　he　recalled　his　encounter　with　the　wolf　pack；　he　silently　thanked　Papa　Bilgee　and　his　dark　horse。　The　only　reason　he　hadn’t　fallen　off　was　that　the　animal　had　lived　its　entire　life　in　wolf　territory；　a　battle…tested　horse　perfectly　suited　to　the　hunt。　At　the　critical　moment；　as　their　lives　hung　in　the　balance；　the　horse　grew　extraordinarily　calm。　Acting　as　if　it　didn’t　even　see　the　pack　or　that　it　had　any　intention　of　interrupting　their　council；　it　continued　on　at　a　leisurely；　just…passing…through　pace。　With　all　the　courage　it　possessed；　and　in　full　control　of　its　hooves；　it　neither　struggled　to　keep　moving　nor　broke　into　a　panicky　gallop；　but　carried　its　rider　at　a　steady　pace　that　allowed　Chen　to　sit　up　straight。

Maybe　it　was　the　horse’s　extraordinary　courage　that　summoned　back　Chen’s　departed　soul；　but　when　that　spirit；　which　had　hovered　in　the　frigid　air　for　a　moment；　returned　to　his　body；　he　felt　reborn　and　was　extraordinarily　tranquil。

He　forced　himself　to　sit　firmly　in　the　saddle。　Taking　his　cue　from　the　horse；　he　pretended　not　to　have　seen　the　pack；　though　nervously　keeping　them　in　sight。　He　knew　all　about　the　speed　of　wolves　on　the　Mongolian　grassland。　It　would　take　but　seconds　to　close　the　gap。　And　he　knew　how　important　it　was　not　to　show　fear。　That　was　the　only　way　to　avoid　an　attack　by　these　grassland　killers。

He　sensed　that　the　alpha　male　was　gazing　at　the　hill　behind　them；　all　the　other　members　of　the　pack　turned　their　pointed　ears　in　the　same　direction；　like　radar　locking　on　to　a　target。　They　silently　awaited　orders　as　the　unarmed　man　and　his　horse　pranced　boldly　past　them；　the　alpha　male　and　his　followers　were　not　sure　what　to　make　of　this。

The　sunset　slowly　faded　away　as　man　and　horse　drew　ever　nearer。　The　next　couple　of　dozen　steps　prised　the　longest　journey　of　Chen　Zhen’s　life。　A　few　steps　into　that　journey；　he　sensed　that　one　of　the　wolves　had　run　up　to　the　　snow…covered　slope　behind　him；　and　he　knew　intuitively　that　it　was　a　scout　sent　by　the　alpha　male　to　see　if　other　troops　lay　in　wait。　Chen　felt　his　soul　straining　to　leave　again。

The　horse’s　gait　faltered　slightly；　Chen’s　legs　and　the　horse’s　flanks　were　trembling。　The　horse　turned　its　ears　to　the　rear；　nervously　moni—toring　the　scout　wolf　’s　movements。　Chen　imagined　himself　passing　through　an　enormous　wolf　’s　maw；　with　rows　of　razor…sharp　teeth　above　and　below；　once　he　was　in　the　middle；　the　mouth　would　snap　shut。　The　horse　began　to　gather　its　strength　in　its　rear　legs；　preparing　for　a　mortal　engagement。　But　the　burden　on　its　back　put　it　at　a　terrible　disadvantage。

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狼图腾（英文版）　1（4）

Suddenly；　Chen　Zhen；　like　the　shepherd　he　was　supposed　to　be；　appealed　to　Tengger；　Mongol　heaven；　in　a　moment　of　peril：　Wise　and　powerful　heaven；　Tengger；　reach　out　and　give　me　your　hand。　Next　he　summoned　Papa　Bilgee　under　his　breath。　In　the　Mongol　language；　Bil—gee　means　“Wise　One。”　If　only　the　old　man　would　find　a　way　to　trans—mit　his　knowledge　of　the　grassland　directly　into　his　brain。　No　echoes　anywhere　disturbed　the　stillness　of　the　Olonbulag。　Gripped　by　despair；　Chen　raised　his　eyes；　wanting　the　last　thing　he　saw　to　be　the　ice　blue　beauty　of　the　heavens。

Then　something　Papa　had　said　dropped　from　the　sky　and　struck　his　eardrum　like　a　thunderclap：　Wolves　are　afraid　of　rifles；　lasso　poles；　and　anything　made　of　metal。　He　had　no　rifle　and　no　lasso　pole；　but　did　he　have　anything　made　of　metal？　His　foot　felt　warm。　Yes！　There　under　his　feet　were　two　large　metal　stirrups。　His　legs　twitched　excitedly。

Papa　Bilgee　had　lent　him　his　horse；　but　the　saddle　was　Chen’s。　No　wonder　the　old　man　had　picked　out　the　largest　stirrups　he　could　find　for　him　at　the　beginning；　it　was　as　if　he　knew　that　someday　they　would　e　to　Chen’s　rescue。　Back　then；　when　he　was　learning　to

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