by Jiang Rong
They entered a gentle ravine that ran east to west. The narrow oxcart path was flanked by mountains on the left and sandy hills on the right. Looking through his high-powered binoculars, Xu searched the grassy land on both sides and whispered, “Two wolves on the hill to the right.” He spun around to signal the vehicle behind. Chen saw the wolves too, big ones, trotting westward, three or four li away.
“Don’t go over there,” Xu said to Old Liu. “We’ll follow the dirt path and maintain speed. See if you can drive parallel with the wolves so I can get a side shot.”
“Got it.” Old Liu turned in the direction of the wolf at a slightly faster speed.
The man obviously had combat experience. Going at the wolf like that not only shortened the distance but also gave the wolves the illusion that they were just passing by, not going for them. The border station patrol cars followed strict rules that prohibited the soldiers from firing except under extraordinary circumstances, which helped keep their presence secret and gave them the element of surprise. As a result, the wolves had grown accustomed to the presence of motor vehicles in the area.
Seeing that the wolves did not speed up, Chen felt a pang in his heart, sensing that they were in trouble this time. These were not ordinary border patrol cars; these men were here to kill wolves. They were crack shots the likes of which the wolves had not encountered before. Their range was far greater than the herdsmen.
The vehicles were nearly parallel to the wolves, and the distance had shortened from fifteen hundred yards to seven or eight hundred; the wolves grew tense and sped up a bit. But the vehicles driving down the dirt path confused them; they had not been wary enough of the people. Chen wondered if the wolves were trying to lure or detract their pursuers. The two marksmen took aim, and Chen felt his heart leap into his throat; he fixed his gaze on Staff Officer Xu’s movements, hoping that the vehicle would stop when he fired, which might give the wolves a chance.
They were about to catch up with the wolves; the distance had shortened four or five hundred yards. The wolves paused and looked over at the vehicles; then, apparently seeing the rifles, they raced toward the ridge. Bang bang. Chen heard the shots and saw the two wolves drop almost simultaneously. “Good shooting!” Bao yelled.
Chen broke out in a cold sweat. Neither he nor the wolves could have imagined that the two men in moving vehicles could hit their targets on their first try. But to the two sharpshooters, this was only an aperitif. Staff Officer Xu gave Old Liu an order. “Hurry over to the sandy area. Step on it.” Then he signaled to the other vehicle. They both shot off the path at full speed and headed to the sandy hill on the right.
Old Liu drove over the hill onto a sandy grassland, where he headed for the nearest, highest point. Xu stood up with his hand on the handrail to survey the area. Two distant groups of young wolves were running separately to the northwest and due north. Chen saw through his telescope that there were four or five large animals in the northbound pack, while most of the eight or nine wolves in the other pack were midsize cubs born that year.
“Let’s go after the northbound pack,” Xu said. Then he turned to the vehicle behind him and pointed to the northwestern group. The vehicles separated and gave chase.
The sandy grassland, with its gentle hills, was an ideal battlefield for the vehicles. “Hold on tight and watch me,” Old Liu shouted. “I can run one down without firing a shot!”
They were traveling so fast it felt like they were flying. Deadly speed flashed through Chen’s mind. On the grassland, only gazelles are able to compete at this speed; not even the fastest lasso horses or wolves can run that fast, even if they run themselves to death. The two vehicles went after the packs like Death itself. After twenty minutes, the wolves that had been the size of sesame seeds were now the size of green peas, and slowly becoming as large as soybeans. But Xu held his fire, which puzzled Chen. If he can bring down a hawk the size of a green pea, why not shoot now?
“Now?” Bao asked.
“Still too far,” Xu said. “If we fire now, the pack will disperse. But if we wait till we’re closer, we can get two more and not damage the pelts.”
Old Liu said excitedly, “Maybe today we can each get one.”
“Just worry about driving,” Xu said. “We’ll be wolf food if we flip over.”
They passed a dune and all of a sudden a giant ox carcass materialized on a small sandy hill directly in front. Its broken horns looked like spears or rifles, or like an antler barrier on an ancient battlefield. The wolves could jump over it, but it was an impossible obstacle for Old Liu, who spun the steering wheel, sending the vehicle lurching to the side, its right tires leaving the ground. The occupants left their seats and nearly flew out of the vehicle; they were screaming in terror.
They brushed past the pile of bones; Chen was still dazed, even after the vehicle had righted itself. He knew the wolves had begun to use the topography in their retreat, and their trick had nearly destroyed the vehicle and killed everyone in it. Bao Shungui, his face an ashen gray, yelled, “Slow down! Slow down!”
Old Liu wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and slowed down, widening the gap between them and the wolves.
“No, step on it!” Xu yelled as dry weeds came into view on the sandy ground. Chen had grazed sheep here and knew the area. He shouted, “The ground ahead is lower and filled with weeds. We could easily flip over. Slow down.”
But his words had no effect on Xu, who gripped the handrail and stared straight ahead. “Faster! Faster!” he shouted.
Old Liu floored the gas pedal, and the vehicle shot out, from time to time leaving the ground altogether or careening on two wheels. Chen had a death grip on the handrail, feeling his insides toss and churn.
He knew the wolves were using the land to their advantage as they ran for their lives, and that their pursuers would not be able to follow once they entered the lowland.
Old Liu screamed, “Those are damned smart wolves. Why did they have to run to a place like this?”
Staff Officer Xu said coldly, “Get a grip on yourself. This isn’t a drill, this is war!”
The mad chase went on for seven or eight more li, closing the distance to the lowland, which was strewn with stumplike weeds. But they had drawn to within range. “Swing around!” Xu shouted. Liu swung the vehicle around like a battleship, its big guns trained to the side. Xu had the wolves where he wanted them. Bang! The biggest wolf fell, shot in the head. The pack scattered, but another shot brought down a second wolf.
Almost at the same time, the remaining wolves reached the dry weeds, out of range. They ran toward the border and disappeared in the grass. Guns to the northwest fell silent as their vehicle came to a stop at the place where the slope met the lowland.
Mopping his sweaty brow, Xu said, “Those wolves are too smart. I should have been able to take down a few more.”
Bao gave him two thumbs up. “That was fantastic! Four wolves in less than thirty minutes. I’ve been doing this for six months and have yet to kill a single one.”
Xu, still on a high, said, “The topography is too complex here, a good place for the wolves’ guerrilla warfare. No wonder they can’t be eliminated.”
The vehicle moved slowly toward the dead wolves. The second had been shot in the chest, its blood soaking the grass around it. Bao and Liu carried the heavy carcass around behind the vehicle. Old Liu kicked the wolf. “There’s enough meat on this one for ten people.” He opened the trunk, took out a canvas bag, and laid it on the backseat. Then he took out two large burlap sacks and stuffed a wolf into each before loading the sacks into the trunk. He left the tailgate down, intending to use it to carry the other two carcasses.
Chen wanted to open up one of the wolves’ bellies to show what it held, but the soldiers had no interest in skinning them there. “Do you really plan to eat wolf meat?” he asked. “It’s sour. The herdsmen never eat it.”
“Nonsense,” said Old Liu. “Wolf meat isn’t sour; it’s like dog meat. I’ve eaten i
t back home. It’s better than dog meat if you know how to cook it. See how fat this one is? Cooking wolf isn’t much different from cooking dog. You put it in cold water for a day to get rid of the gamey smell, then add garlic and chili pepper and stew it for several hours. It smells wonderful. Back home, the whole village would show up to ask for some if you stewed a pot of it. Everyone says wolf meat gives you courage.”
“The herdsmen out here practice a form of sky burial,” Chen said, somewhat maliciously. “When someone dies, the family carries the body to a burial ground to feed the wolves. Are you really prepared to eat wolves that have eaten human flesh?”
Liu didn’t care. “I know all about that. It’s okay as long as you don’t eat the stomach or intestines. Dogs eat human excrement, but have you heard anyone say dog meat is dirty? We use night soil to fertilize vegetables. Do you consider them filthy? We Chinese love to eat dog meat and vegetables. The corps sent down so many people that lamb has been rationed. Everyone’s going crazy just thinking about meat. These wolves won’t be enough to feed them all. But there are more sheep in the world than wolves.” Liu thought he was being funny.
Staff Officer Xu laughed. “The division bosses placed an order for wolf meat with me before I came out here. I’ll have to take these to them tonight. Some say wolf can cure bronchitis, and a few sufferers have signed up. I’m like a doctor. Killing wolves is wonderful work; first, you get rid of the scourge for the people; second, you get yourself a pelt; third, you help the sick; and fourth, you cure people who hunger for meat. You see, four birds with one stone. Four in one!”
Chen realized he’d never be able to dampen their wolf-killing spirit even if he managed to show them a belly full of dead mice.
Liu drove back to where the first wolf had fallen. The head was shattered, for the bullet had entered from the back, sending gray matter and blood oozing to the ground. He was relieved to see there was no white stripe on the neck and chest. This was not the White Wolf King. He was sure it was an alpha male that had led a few fast wolves to lure the enemy away from the pack. But it had been unprepared for something like the vehicle and for sharpshooters and their weapons.
After wiping off the blood and gray matter with clumps of grass, Liu and Bao happily bagged the wolf, carried it over to the tailgate, and tied it down. “This wolf’s head is almost the size of a two-year-old bull,” Liu commented. They got into the jeep to drive over to Staff Officer Batel.
The two vehicles met up. Batel pointed to the bulging hemp sack in the backseat and shouted, “We encountered nothing but willow-tree stumps and could hardly move. I had to fire three times to bring down a cub. This pack was all females and cubs, one big family.”
Xu said emotionally, “The wolves here are demonic. The males left the best retreat route for the females and their cubs.”
Bao shouted, “Another one! A victory. A great victory! This is the happiest day I’ve had since coming to the pasture. Finally, a chance to vent my anger. Let’s go pick up the other two dead ones. I brought food and drink, so we can celebrate.”
Chen jumped out to check out the cub. He untied the sack and saw that it looked like his cub but was bigger. He was surprised that his cub was smaller than the wild one even though he’d given him the best food he could manage. The wild cub was fully grown in less than a year and had learned to hunt and to feed itself. But it died at man’s hand just as its life had begun. Chen rubbed the dead cub’s head as if touching his own cub; this one died because he wanted to keep his.
They drove south. Chen felt miserable as he turned back to look at the border grassland. In less than an hour, the alpha male and lead wolf had been killed in a sort of attack they’d never encountered before. The rest had escaped across the border and might never return. But how could they survive without a strong leader? Bilgee once said, “A pack without its territory is worse than a dog that has lost its owner.”
They returned to where the first shot had been fired. The powerful wolves lay in their own blood, encircled by swarms of flies. Unable to bear the sight, Chen walked off by himself to sit on the grass and gaze at the distant sky across the border. What would Bilgee think if he knew that Chen had led men on a wolf hunt? He’d taught him so much about wolves, and now he’d used that knowledge to kill them. He didn’t know how he was going to face the old man. By nighttime, the wolves would come looking for their dead, and they’d find only bloodstains. The grassland would be filled with sad howls that night.
The two drivers carried the burlap sacks over to the second vehicle and laid them under the backseat.
On some large gunnysacks spread out on the grass they placed several bottles of grassland liquor, a large bag of spiced peanuts, a dozen cucumbers, two cans of braised beef, three jars of canned pork, and a basin of meat. Bao Shungui, liquor bottle in hand, and Staff Officer Xu went over to Chen and dragged him back to the picnic site. Bao patted him on the shoulder. “Little Chen,” he said, “you did well today, and did me a great favor. Without you, our hunters wouldn’t have had a chance to show off their skill.”
The four soldiers raised their cups to toast Chen Zhen. “Drink up,” said Xu. “This one’s for you. Thanks to your research on wolves, you took us right to where we needed to be. Director Bao took us around over a hundred li, and we never saw a single wolf. Come on, drink up. We owe you our thanks.”
Chen’s face was a ghostly white; he wanted to say something but held his tongue. Instead, he accepted the cup and emptied it, wishing he could find a place to have a good cry. Instinctively, he picked up a raw cucumber and began eating. The laborers’ private gardens were already producing cucumbers, which he hadn’t tasted in more than two years. Maybe all Han Chinese were born to be farmers. Otherwise, why had he picked out a cucumber, of all things? Its light succulence turned to bitter juice in his mouth.
Xu patted him on the back. “Don’t feel bad about the wolves we killed, Little Chen. I can tell you have emotional ties to them after raising one yourself, and you’ve been influenced by the old herdsmen. Granted, wolves make a contribution to the grassland by killing rabbits, mice, gazelles, and marmots. But that’s a primitive way to go about it. We live in an age when man-made satellites soar into space. We can protect the grassland with scientific methods. The corps will be sending crop dusters to eradicate the mice.”
That caught Chen off guard, but he immediately understood what Xu meant. “No, you can’t do that,” he said. “If the wolves, foxes, desert foxes, and hawks eat the dead mice, they’ll all die off.”
“What’s the use of having wolves if all the mice are dead?” Bao said.
“Wolves have lots of uses,” Chen argued. “I’m trying to make you understand that wolves can reduce the number of gazelles, rabbits, and marmots.”
Old Liu, his face red from the liquor, burst out laughing. “Gazelles, wild rabbits, and marmots are all famous game. There won’t be enough for our people when they come, and there definitely won’t be any left for the wolves.”
32
After they finished eating, Bao Shungui had a brief conversation with Staff Officer Xu, and then the two vehicles sped toward the northeast.
"We’re heading the wrong way,” Chen Zhen said. "We’re better off retracing our steps.”
Bao said, “We’re a hundred and forty li from the brigade, and we have to make it worth our while for the long trip back.”
Staff Officer Xu said, “If we avoid the areas where the shots were fired, we might run into more wolves. If not wolves, maybe foxes, and that wouldn’t be too bad either. We must continue the glorious military tradition of keeping the fight going and accumulating victories.”
Soon they entered a vast winter pastureland where acres and acres of needle grass spread before Chen’s eyes. This was high-quality winter grass, with two-foot-long blades and tassels a yard long. The winter snows seldom if ever covered it completely; both the stalks and the tassels were fine livestock feed. The sheep could also get to leaves buried beneath the snow
. During the seven months of winter, this pasture kept the livestock alive and thriving.
An autumn wind sent the grass rippling like waves spreading from the border all the way to the vehicles and submerging their wheels; they knifed through the grassy waves like fast ships. Chen breathed a sigh of relief. Even a telescope would be useless in finding wolves on a pasture with such tall, dense foliage. He felt renewed gratitude toward the grassland wolves and the horse herders. The seemingly pristine grassland was actually maintained through their efforts. Both labored hard at their tasks. Whenever Chen heard the herdsmen singing folk songs that echoed wolf sounds, he was happy, knowing that through their songs the herdsmen were acknowledging their debt to the wolves for their part in preserving the winter pasture.
The vehicles sped along, carrying the slightly drunken hunters, who scanned the landscape with binoculars in search of wolves. Chen was lost in his own thoughts, for this was the first time he’d had a chance to contemplate the primitive beauty of the winter pasture before the people and livestock arrived.
Not a single column of smoke, no horses, cows, or sheep. After six months of rest, the pasture looked bleaker than the spring-season birthing pasture, where there were many animal pens, storage sheds, well terraces, and other traces of human effort. In the winter pasture, people and livestock took water from the snow, eliminating the need for wells and terraces. The lambs and calves were fully grown, so instead of sheds and pens, the herders formed semicircle windbreaks for the sheep using wagons, mobile railings, and large pieces of felt.
The vehicles were now speeding along an ancient path. The soil was sandy and hard, but the grass was short and lush. Chen spotted three black dots in the grass not far to his right. He knew it was a large fox standing on its hind legs to keep an eye on the humans traveling through the pasture. The orange afternoon sun turned the fox’s white fur a soft yellow, making it indistinguishable from the grass tassels. The three black spots above its neck were its ears and nose.