狼图腾(英文版)-第1部分
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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
