迪文小说

第4部分（第1页）

om　the　hollow　stalks　and　the　cracks　in　the　snow。　The　smell　of　grass　drew　starving　gazelles　across　the　border　from　the　　blizzard…ravaged　neighbor　to　the　north；　to　them　the　spot　was　a　wintry　oasis—they　ate　until　their　rounded　bellies　looked　like　drums；　making　running　all　but　impossible。

Only　the　alpha　male　and　Bilgee　knew　that　the　gazelles　had　made　a　tragic　mistake。

It　was　not　a　particularly　large　herd。　During　his　first　year　on　the　grassland；　Chen　had　often　seen　herds　of　ten　thousand　or　more。　A　cadre　at　brigade　headquarters　had　said　that　during　the　three　difficult　years　in　the　1960s；　soldiers　from　northern　military　regions　had　e　in　vehicles　and　mowed　down　vast　numbers　of　gazelles　with　machine　guns　to　sup—ply　food　to　their　troops；　as　a　result；　they　drove　the　surviving　gazelles　out　of　the　area。　But　in　recent　years；　given　the　tense　military　situation　in　the　border　regions；　large…　scale　hunts　had　ceased；　and　the　Olonbulag　had　witnessed　the　return　of　gazelles　in　spectacular　numbers。　Chen　fre—quently　encountered　large　herds　when　he　tended　his　flock；　a　vast　sea　of　yellow　close　to　the　ground；　passing　by　his　sheep；　relaxed　and　carefree；　but　causing　his　animals　to　huddle　together　in　fear；　watching　　bug…eyed　with　a　mixture　of　alarm　and　envy　as　their　wild　cousins　raced　past；　free　as　the　wind。

Mongolian　gazelles　ignore　unarmed　humans。　On　one　occasion；　Chen　Zhen　had　ridden　down　the　middle　of　a　dense　herd　with　the　idea　of　roping　one　to　get　a　taste　of　gazelle　meat。　He　failed。　The　fastest　four—legged　animal　on　the　grassland；　the　gazelle　can　outrun　hunting　dogs；　even　wolves。　Chen　whipped　his　horse　and　charged　the　herd；　but　they　kept　passing　on　both　sides；　no　more　than　ten　or　twelve　yards　away；　then　flowed　back　together　ahead　of　him　and　continued　on　their　way。　He　could　only　watch　in　awe。

狼图腾（英文版）　2（3）

The　gazelles　they　were　observing　now　may　have　prised　no　more　than　a　　medium…　sized　herd；　but　Chen　was　sure　it　was　too　big　for　a　pack　of　wolves　numbering　in　the　dozens。　People　had　told　him　there　is　no　ani—mal　more　determined　than　a　wolf；　and　he　was　eager　to　see　not　only　how　great　the　wolves’　appetite　and　determination　might　be　but　also　what　kind　of　hunters　they　were。

For　the　wolves；　this　was　too　great　an　opportunity　to　miss。　Their　movements　were　slight　and　slow。　When　the　male　gazelles　looked　up；　the　wolves　flattened　out　and　did　not　move；　even　the　steam　in　their　breath　was　light　and　gentle。

The　herd　continued　its　desperate　grazing；　and　the　human　observers　settled　in　to　see　what　was　going　to　happen。

“Gazelles　are　a　scourge　on　the　grassland；”　the　old　man　whispered。　“They　run　like　the　wind　and　eat　all　the　time。　Just　look　how　much　good　forage　they’ve　already　gone　through。　The　brigade　has　done　everything　it　can　to　keep　this　pastureland　in　good　shape；　but　the　gazelles　will　have　destroyed　nearly　half　of　it　in　days。　A　few　more　herds　like　this；　and　the　grass　will　be　gone。　The　snows　have　been　heavy　this　year；　and　a　blizzard　is　always　a　possibility。　Without　this　pastureland　in　reserve；　we’d　prob—ably　not　survive—neither　us　nor　our　animals。　Luckily；　there’s　the　wolf　pack。　Within　days　this　herd　will　be　driven　off；　those　that　aren’t　killed；　that　is。”

Surprised　by　this　ment；　Chen　looked　at　the　old　man　and　said；　“No　wonder　you　don’t　hunt　wolves。”

“Oh；　I　hunt　them；”　the　old　man　replied。　“But　not　often。　If　we　killed　them　off；　the　grassland　would　perish；　and　then　how　would　we　survive？　This　is　something　you　Chinese　cannot　understand。”

“It’s　starting　to　make　sense　to　me；”　Chen　said。　He　was　getting　excited；　without　quite　knowing　why。　The　vague　image　of　a　wolf　totem　formed　in　his　head。　Before　leaving　Beijing　two　years　earlier；　he’d　read　and　col—lected　books　on　the　inhabitants　of　the　grassland；　and　had　learned　that　they　revere　a　wolf　totem；　but　only　now　did　he　have　an　inkling　of　why　they　treated　the　wolf；　a　beastly　ancestor；　an　animal　despised　by　the　Chi—nese　and　by　all　people　who　tilled　the　land；　as　their　totem。

The　old　man　looked　at　Chen；　his　broad　smile　turned　his　eyes　to　nar—row　slits。　“You　Beijing　students　threw　up　your　yurt　more　than　a　year　ago；”　he　said；　“but　you　don’t　have　enough　felt　padding　around　it。　We’ll　take　a　few　extra　gazelles　back　with　us　this　time　and　trade　them　at　the　purchasing　center　for　some　felt。　That　way　the　four　of　you　will　be　a　bit　warmer　this　winter。”

“That’s　wonderful；”　Chen　said。　“We’ve　only　got　two　layers　of　felt　now；　and　even　our　ink　bottles　freeze　inside　the　yurt。”

The　old　man　smiled　again。　“Well；　take　a　good　look；　because　this　pack　of　wolves　is　going　to　hand　you　a　nice　gift。”

On　the　Olonbulag　at　the　time；　a　　full…　grown　frozen　gazelle；　meat　and　hide；　sold　for　twenty　yuan；　equivalent　to　a　herder’s　wages　for　two　weeks。　Considered　choice　material；　its　hide　was　used　to　make　pilots’　jackets。　But　China’s　pilots　could　not　get　them；　since　the　gazelle　hides　produced　in　Inner　Mongolia　were　for　export　only；　a　modity　of　exchange　with　the　Soviet　Union　and　Eastern　European　countries　for　steel；　automo—biles；　and　munitions。　The　choice　meat　cuts　were　canned　and　exported。　The　remaining　meat　and　the　bones　were　targeted　for　domestic　con—sumption　but　only　occasionally　appeared　in　butcher　shops　in　the　Mon—golian　banner　territories；　where　ration　coupons　were　required。

狼图腾（英文版）　2（4）

In　the　winter　of　that　year；　great　quantities　of　gazelles　had　streamed　across　the　border；　creating　excitement　among　leaders　of　the　various　Mongolian　banners。　Purchasing　stations　made　space　in　their　storerooms　for　the　carcasses。　Officials；　hunters；　and　herdsmen　were　like　fishermen　who　had　been　told　the　fish　were　schooling。　Nearly　all　the　hunters　and　herders　had　saddled　up　the　fastest　horses　and　were　heading　out　with　hunting　dogs　and　rifles　to　kill　as　many　gazelles　as　possible。　That　did　not　include　Chen　Zhen；　who　had　his　hands　full　with　his　sheep　and；　of　course；　had　no　rifle　and　no　ammunition。　Besides；　a　shepherd　was　given　only　four　horses；　while　the　horse　herders　had　seven　or　eight；　and　as　many　as　a　dozen　for　their　exclusive　use。　So　the　students　could　only　look　on　enviously　as　the　hunters　went　out。

A　couple　of　nights　before；　Chen　had　visited　the　yurt　of　the　hunter　Lamjav。　The　gazelles　had　only　been　in　the　region　for　a　few　days；　yet　he　had　already　bagged　eleven；　once　bringing　down　two　with　a　single　shot。　For　a　few　days　of　hunting　he　had　earned　nearly　as　much　as　a　horse　herder　made　in　three　months。　Proudly　he　told　Chen　that　he’d　already　taken　in　enough　to　supply　himself　with　liquor　and　cigarettes　for　a　year。　After　a　few　more　days　out　on　the　grassland；　he　planned　to　buy　a　Red　Lantern　transistor　radio；　leaving　the　new　one　at　home　and　taking　the　old　one　to　the　herders’　mobile　yurt。　That　night；　for　the　first　time　in　his　life；　Chen　had　a　true　taste　of　the　wild　grassland。　There　is　no　fat　on　gazelles；　and　the　leanness　of　their　meat；　which　tastes　like　venison；　can　be　attributed　to　their　perennial　battle　with　wolves。

Once　the　gazelles　had　migrated　onto　the　Olonbulag；　the　Beijing　students　were　demoted　to　second…class　citizens。　In　their　two　years　on　the　grassland；　they　had　learned　to　tend　cows　and　sheep　by　themselves；　but　they　were　inpetent　hunters；　and　in　the　nomadic　existence　of　people　in　eastern　Inner　Mongolia；　hunting　ranks　higher　than　tending　livestock。　The　Mongols’　ancestors　were　hunters　in　the　forests　surround—ing　the　upper　reaches　of　the　Heilong　River　who　slowly　migrated　onto　the　grassland；　where　they　lived　as　hunter…herdsmen。　Hunting　was　a　sig—nifi　cant　and　often　a　major　source　of　ine。　On　the　Olonbulag；　horse　herders　held　the　highest　status　among　the　herdsmen；　and　most　of　the　hunters　came　from　their　ranks。　Hardly　any　of　the　Beijing　students　man—aged　to　rise　to　that　level；　and　for　those　few　who　did；　the　best　they　could　hope　for　was　an　apprenticeship　to　a　full…fledged　herder。　And　so；　on　the　eve　of　the　big　hunt；　the　students；　who　had　begun　to　consider　themselves　a　new　breed　of　herdsmen；　were　left　out　pletely。

After　finishing　his　meal；　Chen　took　the　gazelle　leg　Lamjav　had　given　him　and；　somewhat　dispirited；　ran　over　to　Bilgee’s　yurt。

Even　though　the　students　now　had　their　own　yurt；　Chen　often　went　to　visit　Bilgee；　whose　yurt　was　larger；　nicer；　and　much　warmer。　The　walls　were　hung　with　Mongol…Tibetan　religious　tapestries；　and　the　floor　was　covered　with　a　rug　that　had　a　white　deer　design；　the　tray　and　silver　bowls　on　the　squat　table　and　the　bronze　bowls　and　aluminum　teapot　in　the　cupboard　were　polished　to　a　shine。　In　this　remote　area；　where　“heaven　is　high　and　the　emperor　far　away；”　the　Red　Guards’　fervent　desire　to　destroy　the　Four　Olds—old　ideas；　culture；　customs；　and　habits—had　not　yet　claimed　Bilgee’s　tapestries　or　rug。

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狼图腾（英文版）　2（5）

The　four　students　in　Chen’s　yurt　had　been　classmates　at　a　Beijing　high　school；　three　of　them　were　sons　of　“black…gang　capitalist　roaders”　or　“reactionary　academic　authorities。”　They　shared　similar　circum—stances；　ideology；　and　disgust　for　the　radical　and　ignorant　Red　Guards；　and　so；　in　the　early　winter　of　1967；　they　said　good…bye　to　the　clamor　of　Beijing　and　traveled　to　the　grassland　in　search　of　a　peaceful　life；　where　they　maintained　their　friendship。

For　Chen；　Old　Man　Bilgee’s　yurt　was　like　a　tribal　chief　’s　headquar—ters　where　he　benefited　from　his　host’s　guidance　and　concern；　it　was　a　safe　and　intimate　refuge。　There　he　was　treated　as　a　member　of　the　family；　the　two　cartons　of　books　he’d　brought　from　Beijing；　especially　those　dealing　with　Mongol　history；　in　Chinese　and　in　English；　had　established　a　close　bond　between　him；　a　Han　Chinese；　and　his　Mongol　host；　who　often　entertained　guests。　Among　those　guests　had　been　musi—cal　performers　whose　songs　were　replete　with　Mongolian　history　and　legends。　As　soon　as　he　saw　Chen’s　books；　in　particular　those　with　maps　and　illustrations；　Bilgee　became　interested　in　Mongol　histories　writ—ten　by　Chinese；　Russian；　Persian；　and　other　scholars。　With　his　limited　Chinese；　he　took　every　opportunity　to　teach　Mongol　to　Chen；　wanting　to　have　everything　in　the　books　explained　to　him；　he　reciprocated　by　telling　Mongol　stories　to　Chen。　Over　the　two　years；　these　conversations　in　Mongol　and　Chinese　between　the　two　men—one　old；　the　other　young—had　progressed　smoothly。

Chen　did　not　want　to　leave　Bilgee’s　yurt；　but　the　quantity　of　livestock　kept　growing　on　the　lush　pastureland。　The　number　of　sheep　in　his　flock；　after　the　birthing　of　the　latest　batch　of　lambs；　exceeded　three　thousand；　far　more　than　any　one　shepherd　could　tend。　So　they　were　divided　into　smaller　flocks；　requiring　Chen　to　leave　his　patron’s　yurt　and　follow　his　sheep。　He　and　his　three　classmates　set　up　a　yurt　and　began　living　on　their　own。　Fortunately；　the　two　camps　were　close　enough　that　the　bleat—ing　of　sheep　and　the　barking　of　dogs　in　one　camp　could　be　heard　in　the　other；　so　they　met　on　their　way　out　in　the　mornings　and　back　at　night。

A　man　could　reach　his　neighbor’s　place　before　his　saddle　was　warm。　Chen　often　visited　the　old　man’s　yurt　to　continue　their　conversations；　but　now　he　wanted　to　talk　about　gazelles；　and　wolves。

Chen　parted　the　door　curtains；　thick　felt　sewn　into　auspicious　pat—terns　with　camel　hair；　and　joined　Bilgee　in　a　cup　of　butter　tea。