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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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