by Shen Shixi
The first thing she wanted to do was inspect her tail. The agonising pain had gone, but her tail was numb. She couldn’t feel it at all. She took a few steps forward, her tail dragging along the ground like a dead snake. Her heart sank. Had she really lost her tail? She wiggled her bottom, shook her hips, to see if she could bring her tail back to life. After a while, her tail responded with a slow clumsy movement.
A huge weight fell from her heart. If she could move her tail, then she still had a tail to move! The tip of the tail was soaked in blood where the pup had bitten into her, had bitten off a clump of her fur. The wound was starting to hurt again, a sharp pain, like burning fire, and there was a swelling feeling. Her tail was injured. It was not an insignificant injury: it would be two weeks before she could move her tail normally again, and perhaps a month before the wound recovered fully. But that was all right. She still had her tail! She was happy as could be! And to have been able to rescue the pup and pull her out? Well, that had been worth it too. Even if it had been hard, and she had lost a little blood and suffered an injury.
Once the little pup had calmed down, she hauled her bedraggled body over to Flame and snuggled up.
‘You’re soaking wet, and filthy and covered in mud! Don’t wipe your dirt all over my fur!’ Flame held up her paws to push her away, but the little thing didn’t want to know. She thrust herself straight into Flame’s chest, into Flame’s embrace. The little thing had had such a hard time in the well. She had had a nasty shock: her body was soaked through. She was shivering with cold. When snuggling up, the pup pawed so madly at Flame’s chest, it was as though she wanted to get inside her. For young pups, a mother’s embrace is like a warm cradle, a safe haven.
Flame softened. Like a sour olive, the taste was gradually getting sweeter, and the sweet sensation in her heart was wonderful. The pain in her tail was also becoming more bearable. ‘Oh, Sweetie, you really are a little sweetie!’
She had originally chosen this name as a food label. Yet somehow, she had come to love her, and the name had become a dear, intimate nickname. Who would have believed it would turn out this way!
Chapter 11
It was the golden season of autumn, and the days were crisp and bright. Sweetie had had a rapid growth spurt. Almost overnight she seemed to have grown a head taller than Flame. When Flame worked it out, Sweetie was already a year old, and by that age wolves have already entered puberty. Sweetie had gone from a little girl pup to a fully grown adult. It was no longer appropriate to think about her as a little wolf pup; it was time to think of her as a she-wolf.
The human world talks about the eighteen changes a girl will go through before she becomes a woman. In the wolf world, after their first year, wolves tend to grow more and more beautiful as each year passes. Sweetie had a slim waist, broad shoulders, strong legs sculpted like jade, a thick glossy coat, and a beautifully streamlined body. Although her hunting skills were not yet fully developed, and she still lacked experience, she already outperformed Flame in terms of speed and strength.
Flame knew that if she didn’t make the decision to deal with Sweetie, the opportunity to do so would eventually escape her. Sweetie was already an adult, and was growing all the time. Raising a wolf was not without risk, and one day Flame’s life would be in serious danger. Flame did not worry that Sweetie would turn her back on Flame, reject her as a mother. She worried that Sweetie would claim this land as her own. She worried that the land where she had lived for so many years would become wolf territory, and that she would be forced to leave.
But Flame found it so hard to make the decision. As she hesitated, the snowline moved down the mountain. The leaves fluttered and fell from the trees. The seasons moved through late autumn to early winter. Sweetie had another growth spurt, and transformed into a majestic golden-haired wolf. Flame knew only too well that Sweetie was no longer a snack for later. She had become a potential predator. In this reversal of roles, Flame was now concerned that she herself might become the snack for later, if the wolf was hungry and wanted to eat her.
Apart from this particular concern, everything else was going well. Sweetie was a real help, and catching food was much easier than before. Sweetie had grown up with Flame, she was smart, and she understood her body language. When the two of them worked together, even the wariest prey found it hard to escape. They had even caught red deer, which are incredibly fast. There was plenty to eat. There were no worries. Life was easy. Sweetie might be taller than Flame, but she was still dependent on her. In the daytime when she was running and hunting, she followed Flame’s every instruction, and in the evening when they returned to Buddha Belly Cave, she still liked to snuggle up close to Flame when she slept.
Compared with previous years, winter had come early to the snowy mountains. The first snowfall had arrived before the black swans of the Gamar marshes had flown south. Lots of animals have a natural ability to predict the weather, and this year Flame was expecting a very snowy winter, a particularly harsh season, with every likelihood of a serious snowstorm.
She wasn’t worried that the early arrival of winter might presage a lack of food. With Sweetie’s help, even if the snow was three feet deep, even if a savage winter storm blew up, they would still be able to find enough to eat. It never crossed Flame’s mind that there might be an even bigger threat to her life than a snowy winter, and that it might be creeping up beside her.
As usual, early that morning Flame and Sweetie trotted out of Buddha Belly Cave one behind the other, and went over to the Gamar marshes to catch a black swan. She thought about ‘the toad that wants to eat swan’. It’s an expression people use to describe something that is never going to happen. Flame wasn’t sure whether it was true, whether a toad could eat swan meat or not. But she could. Indeed, every year for about two to three weeks she lived on swan meat. It was not only jackals that lived on swan meat during this time; the other carnivores in the foothills of the snowy mountains: tigers, leopards, badgers, foxes, bears, wolves, golden cats, lynxes and otters all had the chance to taste swan. For the animals that lived here, eating swan meat was like eating seasonal fruit at the same time each year. It was not particularly special.
The vast stretch of marshes in the Gamar grasslands is the natural habitat of black swans. In the spring, they fly up from the distant south to date, mate and lay eggs. In other words, they come to produce the next generation. Then, in the late autumn they head south again for the winter. But some of the swans born during that year will not be able to join the migrating flock – they might have a damaged wing, they might have been born weak, they might be late hatchers. Whatever the reason, the young cygnets that cannot fly or are not old enough to make the journey are forced to stay on the Gamar marshes. The marshes are usually inaccessible and safe, but when the temperature drops and the water ices over, you can walk across them quite easily. The little black cygnets that are stranded here cannot fly away – they are clumsier than farm chickens at flying – and one by one they freeze. The local carnivores come along and help themselves to fine food.
They trotted out of Buddha Belly Cave, walked round the mountain and on a little further. Then Sweetie ran off into the bushes and cocked her leg. All living creatures need to eat and drink, and later, to relieve themselves. It’s part of their metabolism and completely normal. But Sweetie was not urinating in the usual way. There was something odd, something unusual about it. Usually when she needed to go, she just cocked her leg anywhere, she wasn’t picky about the place. After all, wild animals don’t have the concept of toilet. But Sweetie had run over to the eye-catching bushes growing between the rocks to do her business. Even more peculiar, she had torn off an old leafy branch while she was there. Risking cuts and scratches, she had headed through the thorny bushes, and cocked her leg at a tree trunk. It was all quite an effort just to relieve herself.
Flame wondered what she was doing. Normally you feel good after ‘relieving yourself’. You relieve the pressure on your bladder, and you feel re
lief. You do your business, and it’s done. But Sweetie sprayed a few drops on to the tree trunk, then stopped, as though her urine was precious, and she was holding it in, not wanting to use it all at once. She walked on until she came to the fork in the road, then lifted her leg again by the turtle-shaped rock. She kept doing this for a while, spraying just a few drops at a time, on a small tree, on a rock, in the grass verge. Stopping and starting, but never finishing the job. Lots of small goes rather than doing a proper job. She’d feel no relief doing it this way. Normally, it would be very tiresome and irritating to be stopping and starting like this.
But Sweetie was not spraying a few drops to relieve herself, she was doing it for another reason. Jackals and wolves are both canines and have a lot of behavioural traits in common. Of course Flame knew what Sweetie was up to. She was not urinating as such, she was laying her scent to attract the opposite sex. When a wolf is looking for a mate, scent is the most important source of information. Sweetie was a year old, the time of sexual awakening for a wolf, when the juices are beginning to flow.
Compared with dogs, their canine cousins, jackals and wolves have quite a long mating period. Dogs have been spoilt by humans, they don’t get hungry or feel the cold, and when they want to mate, they just do it. But jackals and wolves are wild animals, and the females feel the pressure of finding food, and of raising the next generation. They have to resist the pressure of harassment, the pressure of enemy advances, so they tend to take their time weighing up a potential suitor. It’s like a trial period for the opposite sex, and it’s especially noticeable in wolves. Although wolves tend to live in pairs, and she-wolves can only rear pups if they are living with a mate, the males are usually on the lookout for something better. This is why she-wolves are so picky, and long before puberty arrives, they will attract a few males to their side, measure them up, and try them out. Some will even live together for a while.
Usually half a winter is enough time for her to determine whether they will fall in love, or rather, whether the male cares enough not to run off when she is pregnant, when she gives birth, when she suckles the pups, and whether he will stick around when they are young. Only then will she mate with him while she’s on heat and produce pups.
As everyone knows, mammals think with their noses. When wolves are pairing up, they rely on smell to get together. The male and female sniff each other out. He breathes in her scent, she breathes in his scent, and before you know it they are attracted to each other. Smell is the only matchmaker in a mammal’s love life.
By spraying her urine around, Sweetie was marking her territory, spreading her scent, telling all the wolves that were passing through that there was a fragrant young beauty in the vicinity, waiting for her moment, ready to mate. She was all alone waiting for the prince of her dreams. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, don’t miss your chance!
Every time Sweetie sprayed an eye-catching place by the side of the path, she was marking her territory, placing a lonely hearts advertisement.
Flame knew that Sweetie’s actions were driven by hormones, by an instinct for life. She was busily weaving a web of love, casting her net. It was preparation for springtime, when the flowers would blossom and she would be on heat. Flame understood that she was coming of age: it was only natural she would fall in love; only natural she would have yearnings. The problem was that Sweetie was such a beautiful young wolf, with such bewitching eyes, that her web of love would not be empty for long. The moment she cast her net, there would be wolves falling at her feet. This mountain valley would become a wolves’ playground. Sweetie had the natural urges of a mammal, and there was little chance of holding her back. But those wolves would not want a jackal getting in their way. A wolf looking for love might see her as a chance to display his art of hunting, to show off his valour and bravery. A simple ‘one-two-three, got you’ to show that he had what it took to raise a family, to catch Sweetie’s eye, to capture her heart. On the other hand, a rejected wolf might see her as a punchbag, on which to vent his frustration. The time had come for Flame and Sweetie to go their separate ways. Flame would not pay a wolf’s dowry with her life.
There was a grey haze in the sky, the dark clouds so low they weighed heavily on the treetops. Snow dust swirled about in the air. Flame was no longer in the mood for hunting – like a bubble into thin air, the spirit had gone. Flame felt overcast and tormented, just like the weather.
When they reached the Gamar grasslands, she did not have the heart to trek across the marshes, searching for abandoned swan’s eggs. She hung her head and made her way back to Buddha Belly Cave. Everything had been spoilt by Sweetie’s spraying.
Flame had known all along that jackals and wolves can’t live together, that their irreconcilable differences would blow up sooner or later. The potential danger had become a real threat. She had had numerous opportunities to deal with Sweetie, but her indecision had got in the way, and now the pup had grown up. Even if Flame wanted to get rid of her, and could gather up the nerve, she wouldn’t be strong enough to do it. The only way to avoid the threat was to leave. She felt wronged and angry. From now on, as the wolf walked where it liked, she would have to tread carefully – her vast land reduced to a single plank bridge. Of course, Flame did not want to leave. This land was hers. She would never find a more beautiful place. But, she had no choice. She had played a dangerous game and put her very existence at risk.
Chapter 12
There was a bear in front of Flame. Should she attack? Or retreat? She couldn’t decide. Bears are among the wildest animals of the mountain and forest: thick-skinned, strong-pawed, prone to flare up in a temper. They are as strong as strong can be, only a large carnivore like a tiger or snow leopard would dare to attack. Under normal circumstances, if a jackal or a wolf met a bear, it would run off, and wouldn’t dare to provoke it.
If the bear in front of her was a massive adult, Flame would not have given it a moment’s thought; she would have turned and run, taking Sweetie with her. All meat-eaters are opportunists: if you can win, stay and fight. If you can’t win – run. There is no point in wasting valuable time and energy on hunting something you can’t possibly hope to catch. But this bear was only two-thirds the size of an adult, and still had the face of a cub. The white spots on its chest were still bright and its frightened eyes were looking all around. One look was enough to see that this was a bear cub that had just left its mother to start independent life, it was missing its mother’s milk, it was only halfway to being an adult.
Snowflakes fluttered in the sky. It had been snowing non-stop for two days and two nights, and Nature was showing no interest in a change of weather. Flame and Sweetie had eaten nothing all day. They were so hungry they could feel their backbones through their bellies. There was nothing they could do but brave the snow and look for food. They’d been out for hours, searching in the mountains, but had found nothing. Then, quite by chance, they’d come across this bear in the ravine. If they walked away, they’d probably have another long and hungry winter’s night ahead of them.
The young bear got to his feet, shook the soft fur on his neck and face vigorously, and tried to make himself appear a whole lot taller and burlier than he actually was. He scraped at the air with his paws, and bared his sharp teeth with a snarl. You could see how hard he was trying. He was desperate to show his might, in the hope he could scare them away. The truth was, he was not very confident, and was scared that they might attack him. His bark was definitely worse than his bite. Fierce on the outside, but soft on the inside.
Well, well, what have we here? thought Flame. A young bear that doesn’t quite have enough experience of life in the forest! A young bear lacking in confidence! The same thought ran through Sweetie’s mind: there could be bear for dinner tonight! Flame’s thoughts went a little further. If they could catch this hefty beast, they could bury it in the snow and freeze it. It would last half the winter, and she and Sweetie would not have to worry about food any more. She weighed up the risks
and the benefits. It was too good an opportunity to let go.
The young bear went over to a small tree and, in a single scratch of his paw, ripped off a branch as thick as a broom handle. The snow slid off the branch and hit Flame and Sweetie, making them jump back. The young bear roared with laughter. He was so pleased with himself. Then he wrapped his arms around the tree trunk and shook it as hard as he could. The little tree creaked under the strain. The bear shook it even harder, putting all his weight into the job. The trunk was as wide as a saucer. It came crashing down, snapping in two.
The bear sat himself down on the broken tree, breathing heavily, and roared at Flame and Sweetie. His message couldn’t be clearer. It was warning them: ‘If you mess with me, I’ll break your necks, just like I snapped that small tree in two with my bare hands. Bears are the strongmen of the forest. Don’t even think about it!’
The corner of Flame’s mouth curled upwards in a mocking expression. The bear had made a childish display of power, a poor attempt at intimidation, an empty threat. All that effort to snap a tree in half! All brawn and no brain! But he was definitely strong, his two black paws especially, so if she and Sweetie took up the fight, they had better be good.
Although it was two against one, it seemed to be rather a mismatch. Flame and Sweetie combined did not match the weight or strength of the bear. He had massive strength, tough skin, sharp claws and sharp teeth. But they were more evenly matched than it seemed. They were more intelligent than the bear, more agile, and more experienced when it came to hunting. What’s more, they could attack from two sides. With one at his head and the other at his back, the bear would be in trouble. When you looked at it objectively like that, there was no clear winner. The chances were fifty-fifty.