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第13部分(第1页)

to leap back across the wall。 Then it acted as a springboard for the hungry wolf to fly into the enclosure and eat its fill。 Those two bloody paw prints were left by the second wolf。 How else would they have been bloody? The first wolf hadn’t made a kill when it was the springboard; so its paws were clean; no blood。 Right? Think about it。 They played a neat trick on the people。 The pack was inside the enclosure; where it killed at will。 The people built the wall to keep the wolves out; but wound up keeping the sheepdogs out instead。 I guarantee you that Cheren…dorji’s dogs’ anger pushed their noses out of joint。 They weren’t smart enough to follow the wolves’ example; nor would they if they could have; because once they flew inside; they’d have been no match for the smarter wolves。”

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狼图腾(英文版) 4(11)

“They’re smarter than me too;” Chen said。 “But one problem remains。 How did the last member of the pack get out safely? Where was its spring—board?”

The question delighted Chief Harbar。 “People really are stupider than wolves;” he said。 “That’s what puzzled everybody back then too。 That is; until Director Uljii went into the enclosure; sloshing through all the blood。 He discovered a pile of six or seven sheep carcasses up against the northeast wall; and everyone assumed that the last wolf was one of the smartest and most powerful pack leaders。 All by itself; it had made a springboard out of a pile of sheep carcasses and flown out of the enclosure。 There were those who didn’t think one wolf could have managed it alone; and that several of them had done the piling; then jumped out。 When it was all over; Director Uljii summoned the team leaders to the site and described to them how the wolves had leaped into the enclosure; and back out。 That brought a sense of calm to the pasture。 Cherendorji was not punished; but Director Uljii made a self—criticism; acknowledging that he’d underestimated the wolves; that he’d taken them too lightly。”

Chen Zhen’s hair stood on end。 Although he accepted the chief’s conclusion; from that day on fantastic images of flying wolves frequently visited his dreams; and he often woke up drenched in cold sweat。 No longer did he treat grassland legends simply as entertainment。

Several days passed; and Chen decided to get a close look at the bri…gade’s two open… air sky…burial sites。 One was on the northern slope of Mount Chagantolgai; the other on the northeastern slope of Black Rock Mountain。 At first glance the two burial sites looked pretty much like other hillside grazing land。 But up close; there were distinct differ—ences。 Both were far from the ancient nomadic trails; in a bleak loca—tion north of the grasslands’ sacred mountains; close to wolf territory and to Tengger; thereby shortening the distance that souls had to travel to reach heaven。 In addition; the ground was rocky and uneven; bumpy enough for the carts。

For centuries on the Olonbulag; when a herder died; people stripped him naked and tied his body up in a roll of felt; although some—times they left the corpse clothed so they could forego the felt。 Then they loaded the corpse onto a cart on which a long board had been laid across the shafts and made secure。 In the predawn hours; two senior male members of the family; each holding one end of the board; drove the cart to the  sky…burial site; where they whipped their horses into a gallop。 Inevitably; the deceased bounced out of the cart; and that was the spot where the soul would return to Tengger。 The two relatives dis—mounted and; if the corpse was naked; unrolled the felt and lay the deceased out on the grass; facing the sky; exactly the way he (or she) came into the world; naked and innocent。 At that moment; the deceased belonged to the wolves; and to the gods。 Whether or not the soul of the deceased would enter Tengger depended on the virtues; or their lack; of the life lived。 Generally speaking; that would be known within three days。 If; by then; nothing but bones was left of the corpse; the soul of the deceased had entered Tengger。 But if the deceased remained more or less whole; the family was thrown into a panic。 There were; however; many wolves on the Olonbulag; and Chen had never heard of a single person whose soul had not entered Tengger。

狼图腾(英文版) 4(12)

He had known of Tibetan sky burials; but not until arriving on the grassland had he discovered that it was also a Mongol practice; with wolves replacing eagles as the burial agents。 Since all herdsmen of the Olonbulag would one day wind up in the bellies of wolves via the sky burial; they had; for millennia; been at peace with the idea of death。

Chen’s sense of dread was overe by his curiosity。 After learn—ing the precise locations of the burial sites from the proprietor of wag—ons who delivered production materials; he secretly went out twice to observe burials。 Each time; unfortunately; the sites were covered by snow and he missed what he’d hoped to see。 But then one day; as winter was about to give way to spring; he spotted the tracks of horses and cart ruts in the snow leading in the direction of one of the burial sites。 He followed the tracks until he came upon the corpse of an old man who had died a natural death and had; it seemed; been there a short time。 The snow was disturbed by fresh animal and human tracks in addition to the wheel ruts; not even the powdery snow had been blown away。 The old man lay there looking peaceful and innocent; supine; his body blanketed by a thin layer of powder; a look of devotion on his smooth; seemingly veiled face。

The anxiety and the dread Chen had experienced on the way over were gradually supplanted by a sense of the sacred。 The dead man exhibited no sign of someone meeting death; but of someone attending a feast in Tengger; a second baptism; a rebirth。 At that moment; Chen shared the reverence in which the grassland Mongol people held the wolf totem。 At the end of a life; the body was served up as an unadorned sacrificial offering; providing a clean and absolute liberation; now Chen understood the deep reverence of the Mongols for Tengger; the wolves; and the souls they entrusted to them。 He had no heart to loiter at that sacred place; fearful of agitating the soul of the deceased and of des—ecrating the sacred beliefs of the grassland people; so; with a respectful bow to the old man; he led his horse away from the burial site。

Three days later; the family of the deceased had nothing to worry about; which greatly relieved Chen Zhen。 The family; following local custom; had gone to verify the burial and must have seen the traces of an outsider among the tracks of men and horses; but none came to Chen Zhen with accusations。 That would not have been so had the soul not gone up to Tengger。 Chen; realizing that his curiosity and inter—ests had begun to clash with his hosts’ totems and taboos; took care to concentrate on tending his sheep and working hard; even as he sought to move closer to the mysterious people about whom he was so curious and whom he so deeply respected。

Spring came strangely early that year; more than a month earlier than usual。 Warm winds turned the Olonbulag a golden yellow。 Autumn grass; pressed down by the snow for an entire winter; burst onto the surface; and on some of the slopes that faced the sun a smattering of green buds appeared。 Dry winds and warm days came hard on the heels of these changes; and when the teams went to their birthing meadows; the people were kept busy with wildfire prevention and antidrought measures to safeguard newborn animals。

狼图腾(英文版) 4(13)

Gao Jianzhong was too late。 Laborers and members of the floating population who had streamed into the city to work in transportation and construction teams had; earlier in the year; viewed with envy the lively scene that occurred when Gasmai’s team had brought cartloads of gazelles to the purchasing station。 They had crowded around the hunt—ers; trying to learn the whereabouts of the hunt。 After being told that all the frozen gazelles had been retrieved; they had approached Bayar with candy from the Northeast; but he had directed them to an empty moun—tain valley。 Finally; these men; mostly Mongol outsiders from Manchu—rian farms; had found the grassland Mongols’ weakness—liquor。 They had gotten the shepherd Sanjai drunk and learned the location of the gazelles。 Moving quickly; they had beat the wolf pack and Gao Jian—zhong by arriving just as the gazelles were breaking through the surface of the snow。 They had pitched a camp nearby and; within a single day; retrieved every last animal; big and small; good and bad。 They had then loaded them onto carts and transported them overnight to the purchas—ing station at the Bayan Gobi mune。

Over the next several nights; the horse herders heard the plaintive; angry howls of hungry wolves echo up and down the valley。 They grew tense; keeping close watch over their horses; never letting them stray from their sight。 The lovers they’d left behind in yurts; knowing that there would be a high price to pay for the wolves’ hunger; beat their live—stock out of anger and sang sad songs; bitter melodies of frustration。

Soon after; a formal notice arrived from headquarters reinstating the once annual tradition of stealing wolf cubs。 The rewards were to be higher than in previous years; thanks to the personal intervention of Bao Shungui; the military representative。 Word had it that the  wolf—cub pelts would bring in a better price than ever。 Those pelts; soft and shiny; rare and expensive; were used for women’s leather jackets; and were cherished items of the wives of northern officials; they also pro—vided hard currency for  lower…ranking officials willing to do business out the back door。

Bilgee was silent; smoking one pipeful after another。 Chen overheard him mutter; “The wolves will soon have their revenge。”

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