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eday　they　would　e　to　Chen’s　rescue。　Back　then；　when　he　was　learning　to　ride；　the　old　man　had　said　that　not　only　did　small　stirrups　make　staying　in　the　sad—dle　difficult；　but　if　the　horse　bucked　you　off；　your　foot　could　get　caught　and　you　could　be　dragged　along；　which　could　lead　to　serious　injury　or　death。　These　stirrups；　with　their　large　openings　and　rounded　bottoms；　were　twice　the　size　of　the　more　mon　small…mouthed；　　fl　at…　bottomed　ones；　and　double　the　weight。

The　pack　was　waiting　for　the　scout’s　report；　horse　and　rider　were　now　directly　opposite　them。　Chen　quickly　removed　his　feet　from　the　stirrups；　reached　down；　and　pulled　them　up　by　their　leather　straps。　Holding　one　in　each　hand；　and　calling　upon　all　his　strength；　he　spun　the　horse　around；　roared　in　the　direction　of　the　wolf　pack；　raised　the　heavy　stirrups　　chest…high；　and　banged　them　together。

Clang　clang　。　。　。

A　crisp；　ear…splitting　clang；　like　a　hammer　on　an　anvil；　tore　through　the　silent　air　of　the　grassland　and　straight　into　the　ears　and　the　seats　of　courage　of　every　wolf　in　the　pack；　like　a　sword。　Nonnatural　metal—lic　noises　frighten　wolves　more　than　any　thunderstorm；　they　produce　a　sound　that　has　a　greater　and　more　devastating　impact　on　them　than　the　snap　of　a　hunter’s　trap。

The　wolves　trembled　when　the　first　clangs　from　Chen’s　stirrups　reso—nated　in　the　air。　The　next　burst　sent　them　turning　away；　led　by　the　alpha　wolf；　they　fled　into　the　mountains　like　a　yellow　storm；　their　ears　pinned　against　their　heads　and　their　necks　pulled　into　their　shoulders。　Even　the　scout　abandoned　its　mission　and　followed　the　other　members　of　the　pack　in　fl　ight。

Chen　Zhen　could　hardly　believe　his　eyes　as　he　watched　the　wolves　frightened　off　by　a　pair　of　metal　stirrups。　As　his　courage　made　its　belated　return；　he　banged　the　stirrups　together　wildly；　then　windmilled　his　arms　like　a　shepherd　and　shouted；　“Hurry！　Hurry！　There　are　wolves　everywhere！”

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狼图腾（英文版）　1（5）

For　all　he　knew；　the　wolves　understood　Mongol　and　knew　the　mean—ing　of　human　gestures；　perhaps　they’d　been　frightened　into　dispersal　by　what　they’d　assumed　was　a　trap　laid　by　hunters。

But　they　dispersed　in　orderly　fashion；　maintaining　the　ancient　orga—nizational　unity　and　group　formation　characteristic　of　grassland　wolves：　The　most　ferocious　members　serve　as　a　vanguard；　with　the　alpha　male　out　in　front；　the　pack’s　larger　wolves　behind　it。　There　is　never　any　of　the　confusion　monly　seen　among　fleeing　birds　and　other　wild　animals。　Chen　was　overwhelmed　by　the　sight。

In　a　moment；　the　pack　had　vanished　without　a　trace；　and　all　that　remained　in　the　ravine　were　a　white　mist　and　swirling　flakes　of　snow。

By　then　night　had　fallen。　Before　Chen　could　step　fully　into　the　stir—rups　again；　his　horse　took　off　like　a　shot；　racing　toward　the　nearest　camp。　Frigid　air　seeped　into　Chen’s　collar　and　sleeves；　the　cold　sweat　on　his　body　had　turned　to　ice。

Having　escaped　from　the　wolf　’s　maw；　he　became　an　immediate　con—vert　to　the　devotion　paid　to　Tengger；　just　like　his　Mongol　hosts。　He　also　developed　a　plex　attitude　of　fear；　reverence；　and　infatuation　toward　the　Mongolian　wolf。　It　had　touched　his　soul。　How　could　it　possess　such　a　powerful　attraction？

Chen　did　not　catch　sight　of　another　wolf　pack　over　the　next　two　years。　During　the　day　he　tended　his　sheep；　occasionally　spotting　a　lone　wolf；　maybe　two；　off　in　the　distance。　Even　when　he　was　far　from　camp；　he　never　saw　more　than　four　or　five　at　one　time。　Often；　however；　he　came　across　the　remains　of　sheep　or　cattle　or　horses　that　had　been　killed　by　wolves；　individually　or　in　packs。　There　might　be　one　or　two　dead　sheep；　two　or　three　cows；　and　maybe　three　or　four　horses；　but　sometimes　carcasses　would　be　strewn　over　a　wide　area。　When　he　was　out　making　calls　on　people；　he　regularly　saw　wolf　pelts　hanging　on　tall　poles；　like　flags　waving　in　the　wind。

Now　Bilgee　lay　fl　at　in　the　snow　cave；　not　moving　a　muscle；　his　eyes　glued　to　the　gazelles　grazing　on　the　slope　and　the　wolf　pack　that　was　inching　nearer。　“Stay　calm；”　he　whispered　to　Chen。　“The　first　thing　you　need　to　learn　as　a　hunter　is　patience。”

Having　Bilgee　beside　him　was　forting。　Chen　rubbed　his　eyes　to　clear　away　the　mist　and　blinked　calmly　at　Bilgee；　then　raised　his　tele—scope　again　to　watch　the　gazelles　and　the　wolves。　The　pack　still　had　not　given　itself　away。

Since　his　earlier　encounter　with　the　wolves；　he　had　e　to　under—stand　that　the　inhabitants　of　the　grassland；　the　nomads；　were　never　far　from　being　surrounded　by　wolves。　Nearly　every　night　he　spotted　ghostly　wolf　outlines；　especially　during　the　frigid　winter；　two　or　three；　perhaps　five　or　six；　and　as　many　as　a　dozen　pairs　of　glittering　green　lights　mov—ing　around　the　perimeter　of　the　grazing　land；　as　far　as　a　hundred　li　or　more　distant。　One　night　he　and　Bilgee’s　daughter…in…law　Gasmai；　aided　by　flashlights；　counted　twenty…　five　of　them。

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狼图腾（英文版）　1（6）

Like　guerrilla　fighters；　nomads　strive　for　simplicity。　During　the　win—ter；　sheep　pens　are　semicircles　formed　by　wagons　and　mobile　fencing；　with　large　felt　rugs　that　serve　as　a　windbreak　but　cannot　keep　out　the　wolves。　The　wide　southern　openings　are　guarded　by　packs　of　dogs　and　women　on　watch　shifts。　From　time　to　time；　wolves　break　into　the　pens　and　fight　the　dogs。　Bodies　often　thud　into　yurt　walls；　waking　the　peo—ple　sleeping　on　the　other　side；　twice　that　had　happened　to　Chen　Zhen；　and　all　that　had　kept　a　wolf　from　landing　in　bed　beside　him　was　that　wall。　Frequently　nomads　are　separated　from　wolves　by　no　more　than　a　couple　of　felt　rugs。

At　night；　when　the　wolves　came　out　to　hunt；　Chen　would　sleep　lightly。　He　had　told　Gasmai　to　call　him　if　a　wolf　ever　broke　into　the　pen　when　she　was　on　guard　duty；　assuring　her　that　he　would　help　drive　the　animal　away；　fight　it　head…on　if　necessary。　Bilgee　would　stroke　his　goatee；　smile；　and　say　he’d　never　seen　a　Chinese　so　fixated　on　wolves。　He　seemed　pleased　with　the　unusual　degree　of　interest　displayed　by　the　student　from　Beijing。

Late　one　snowy　night　during　his　first　winter；　Chen；　flashlight　in　hand；　witnessed　at　close　quarters　a　battle　between　a　wolf；　a　dog；　and　a　woman。

“Chenchen！　Chenchen！”

Chen　was　awakened　by　Gasmai’s　frantic　cries　and　the　wild　bark—ing　of　dogs。　After　pulling　on　his　felt　boots　and　buttoning　up　his　Mon—gol　robe；　his　deel；　he　ran　out　of　the　yurt　on　shaky　legs；　flashlight　and　herding　club　in　hand。　The　beam　of　light　sliced　through　the　snow　to　reveal　Gasmai　holding　on　to　the　tail　of　a　wolf；　trying　to　pull　it　away　from　the　densely　packed　sheep。　The　wolf　tried　desperately　to　turn　its　fangs　on　her。　Meanwhile；　the　stupid；　fat　sheep；　petrified　by　the　wolf　and　nearly　frozen　by　the　wind；　huddled　together　and　kept　backing　up　against　the　windbreak；　packed　so　tightly　the　snowflakes　between　their　bodies　turned　to　steam。　The　front　half　of　the　wolf　was　immobilized；　it　could　only　paw　at　the　ground　and　snap　at　the　sheep　in　front　of　it；　all　the　while　engaged　in　a　　tug…of…war　with　Gasmai。　Chen　staggered　over　to　help　but　didn’t　know　what　to　do。　Gasmai’s　two　dogs　were　hemmed　in　by　the　huddled　sheep。　Unable　to　get　to　the　big　wolf；　they　were　reduced　to　wild；　impotent　barking。　At　the　same　time；　Bilgee’s　five　or　six　hunting　dogs；　together　with　their　neighbors’　dogs；　were　fighting　other　wolves　east　of　the　pen。　The　barks；　the　howls；　and　the　agonizing　cries　of　dogs　shook　heaven　and　earth。　Chen　wanted　to　help　Gasmai；　but　his　legs　were　so　rubbery　he　could　barely　move。　His　desire　to　touch　a　living　wolf　had　vanished；　replaced　by　paralyzing　fear。

Gasmai　cried　out　anxiously；　“Stay　where　you　are！　Don’t　e　near　us！　The　wolf　will　bite　you。　Get　the　sheep　to　move！　Let　the　dogs　in！”

Gasmai　was　tugging　so　hard　on　the　wolf　’s　tail　she　was　nearly　falling　backward；　her　forehead　bathed　in　sweat。　Her　grip　on　the　tail　caused　the　wolf　so　much　pain　that　it　had　to　suck　cold　air　through　its　bloody　mouth。　Desperate　to　turn　and　claw　its　tormentor　and　seeing　it　was　futile　to　press　forward；　the　wolf　abruptly　backed　up；　spun　around；　and　came　at　Gasmai；　fangs　bared。　With　a　loud　ripping　noise；　the　lower　half　of　her　fur　deel　was　torn　off。　A　panther…like　glare　flashed　in　her　Mon—gol　eyes；　and　she　refused　to　let　go　of　the　tail。　She　jumped　backward；　straightening　the　animal　out　once　more；　and　began　dragging　it　over　to　the　dogs。

狼图腾（英文版）　1（7）

Thrown　into　a　panic；　Chen　raised　his　flashlight　and　shone　it　on　Gas—mai　and　the　wolf　to　help　her　see　better　and　avoid　getting　bitten；　then　he　brought　his　herding　club　down　on　the　head　of　the　sheep　next　to　him。　That　threw　the　flock　into　chaos。　Frightened　of　the　wolf　in　the　dark；　they　fought　to　huddle　against　the　light　shining　in　their　midst；　Chen　had　failed　to　get　them　moving。　Even　worse；　he　saw　that　Gasmai　was　los—ing　the　tug…of…war　with　the　wolf；　which　was　dragging　her　forward。

“Mother！　Mother！”　The　fearful　screams　of　a　child　tore　through　the　air。

Gasmai’s　nine…year…old　son；　Bayar；　burst　out　of　the　yurt。　The　moment　he　saw　what　was　happening；　there　was　a　change　in　his　screams。　He　ran　straight　to　his　mother　and；　as　if　mounting　a　pommel　horse；　flew　over　the　sheep　and　landed　next　to　her；　where　he　grabbed　hold　of　the　wolf’s　tail。

“Grab　its　leg！”　she　shouted。

Bayar　let　go　of　the　tail　and　grabbed　one　of　the　hind　legs；　pulling　it　backward　and　slowing　the　animal’s　forward　progress　until　the　two　of　them　managed　to　stop　it　altogether。　Mother　and　son　staunchly　held　their　ground；　making　sure　the　large　wolf　in　their　grasp　was　unable　to　drive　any　sheep　out　through　the　　felt…topped　windbreak。

By　then　Bilgee　had　reached　the　flock；　pushing　the　sheep　out　of　the　way　as　he　called　to　his　dog：　“Bar！　Bar！”　In　Mongol　bar　means　“tiger”；　Bilgee’s　was　the　biggest；　most　ferocious　wolfhound　in　the　camp。　It　was　not　as　long　from　nose　to　tail　as　one　of　the　large　wolves；　but　it　was　taller　and　broader　in　the　chest；　thanks　to　its　partial　Tibetan　lineage。　At　the　first　call　of　its　name；　it　withdrew　from　the　battle　outside　and　rushed　to　its　master’s　side；　where　it　stopped；　its　mouth　reeking　of　wolf　blood。　Bilgee　took　the　flashlight　from　Chen　Zhen　and　turned　its　light　onto　the　wolf；　which　was　still　imbedded　in　the　flock　of　sheep。　Bar　bounded　over　the　backs　of　the　sheep；　stepping　on　heads　along　the　way；　rolling　and　scrambling　as　it　charged　the　wolf。

“Drive　the　sheep　toward　the　wolf；”　Bilgee　shouted。　“We’ll　pen　it　in　so　it　can’t　get　away！”　He　took　Chen　Zhen’s　hand；　and　the　two　of　them　herded　the　sheep　toward　the　wolf　and　Gasmai。

Finally；　Bar；　his　breath　fouled；　blood　spurting　from　his　nose；　was　standing　beside　Gasmai；　but　the　wolf　was　still　wedged　in　tightly　among　the　sheep。　Mongolian　hunting　dogs　are　trained　not　to　bite　wolves　on　the　back　or　other　spots　on　the　torso；　so　as　to　preserve　the　pelt。　Bar　was　going　crazy　trying　to　find　a　spot　to　sink　his　teeth　into。　Seeing　Bar　there　beside　her；　Gasmai　turned　sideways；　lifted　one　leg；　and　grabbed　the　wolf　’s　tail　with　both　hands；　laying　it　across　her　own　leg。　Then　with　a　shout；　she　cracked　the　tail　over　her　knee。　With　an　agonizing　howl；　the　wolf　loosened　its　claws　in　the　dirt；　allowing　mother　and　son　to　jerk　it　free　of　the　sheep。　The　big　animal；　its　body　convulsing

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