guarantee you； we Chinese could live out here for generations without worshipping a wolf totem。”
狼图腾（英文版）3（2）
“Maybe； maybe not；” Chen said as he reined in his horse。 “Take me； for instance。 The wolves have won me over in a little more than two years。”
“But the vast majority of Chinese are peasants；” Yang countered； “or were born to peasants。 The Han have a peasant mentality that’s impossible to break down； and if they were transported out here； I’d be surprised if they didn’t skin every last wolf on the grassland。 We’re a farming race； and a fear and hatred of wolves is in our bones。 How could we venerate a wolf totem？ We Han worship the Dragon King； the one in charge of our agrarian lifeline—our dragon totem； the one we pay homage to； the one to whom we meekly submit。 How can you expect people like that to learn from wolves； to protect them； to wor—ship and yet kill them； like the Mongols？ Only a people’s totem can truly rouse their ethnic spirit and character； whether it’s a dragon or a wolf。 The differences between farming and nomadic peoples are simply too great。 In the past； when we were immersed in the vast Han Chi—nese ocean； we had no sense of those differences； but ing out here has made the inherent weaknesses of our farming background obvious。 Sure； my father is a renowned professor； but his grandfather and my mother’s grandmother were peasants。”
“In ancient times；” Chen said； picking up the thread； “the impact of Mongols on the world was far greater than that of the Han； who out—numbered them a hundred to one。 Even now； people in the West call us members of a Mongol race； and we accept that。 But back when the Qin and Han dynasties unified China； the word Mongol didn’t exist。 I tell you； I feel sorry for the Han Chinese。 We built the Great Wall and crowed about what an achievement it was； considering ourselves to be the center of the world； the central kingdom。 But in the eyes of early Western people； China was only a ‘silk country；’ a ‘ceramic country；’ a ‘tea country。’ The Russians even thought that the little Khitan tribe was China； and to this day； they still call China； Khidai。”
“It looks like your fascination with wolves was worth it；” Yang said。 “It’s contagious。 Now when I read history； I keep looking to the barbar—ian tribes of the four corners and am tempted to look for their connec—tions to wolves。”
“Look at you；” Chen said。 “You’re damned near a Mongol yourself。 All you need is an infusion of wolf blood。 Hybrids are always superior creatures。”
“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you urged me to e to the grassland。 Do you know what it was you said that touched that special spot in me？ You’ve forgotten； haven’t you？ This is it： you said； ‘The grassland contains the most extensive primitivism and freedom anywhere。’ ”
Chen loosened his horse’s bit and said； “I think you’re putting words in my mouth。”
They laughed happily。 Snow flew from the wheels of the cart as it sped along。
Humans； dogs； and carts formed a scene on the snow like a Gypsy carnival。 Every member of Gasmai’s group—four hots （two adja—cent yurts prised a hot）； altogether eight yurts—sent men and carts。 The eight carts were loaded with felt； ropes； hoes； kindling； and wooden…handled hooks。 Everyone was wearing grimy old clothing for the dirty； tiring work ahead—so grimy it shone； so old it was black； and dotted with sheepskin patches。 But the people and the dogs were as cheerful as the tribes that had followed the ancient Mongol hordes in sweeping up battlefields to claim the spoils of war。 A large felt…wrapped flask of liquor was passed from the head of the procession all the way to the rear； and from the hands of women to the mouths of men。 Music filled the air： Mongol folk songs； songs of praise； war chants； drinking songs； and love songs—the dam had broken。 The forty or fi fty furry Mongol dogs were acting like children； giddily showing off on this rare and happy occasion； running around the carts； rolling in the dirt； play— fighting； and flirting。
。 想看书来
狼图腾（英文版）3（3）
Chen Zhen and two horse herders； Batu and Lamjav； plus five or six cowherds and shepherds； clustered around Bilgee； like bodyguards for a tribal chief。 Lamjav； a man with a broad face； straight nose； and Turkish eyes； said to Bilgee； “I could be the best marksman anywhere and I still wouldn’t be your equal。 Without firing a shot； you’ve made it possible for every family in the team to enjoy a bountiful New Year’s holiday。 Even with an apprentice like our Han friend Chen Zhen； you haven’t forgotten your old Mongol apprentices。 I’d never have predicted that the wolves would launch their attack out here yesterday。”
The old man glared at him。 “In the future； when you have a success—ful hunt； don’t you forget the old folks and the Beijing students in the team。 I’ve never seen you deliver meat to anybody。 You only gave Chen Zhen a gazelle leg because he visited your yurt。 Is that how we treat our guests？ When we were young； the first gazelle or snow otter of the year always went to the old folks and to guests。 Young people today have forgotten customs handed down from the great khans。 Let me ask you； how many wolves do you have to kill to catch up with Buhe； the great hunter of the Bayan Gobi mune？ You want to see your name in the newspaper； hear it on the radio； win a prize； don’t you？ If you hunt the wolves to extinction； where do you think your soul will go after you die？ Don’t tell me you want to be like the Han； buried in a hole in the ground； where you can feed the worms and other insects！ If you do； your soul will never make it to Tengger。”
“Batu is your son；” Lamjav said as he touched the back fl ap of his fox…fur cap。 “You may not believe me； but you ought to believe him。 Ask him if I have any interest in being a great hunter。 A journalist from the Mongol League came to the horse unit to see me the other day。 Batu was there； you can ask him if I didn’t cut the number in half。”
“Is that true？” the old man turned and asked his son。
“Yes；” Batu replied； “but the man didn’t believe him。 He asked people at the purchasing station how many wolf pelts Lamjav had sold them。 You know that after they check the quality of the pelts to determine the price； they give the seller twenty bullets。 And they keep records。 After the journalist returned to the league； he said over the air that Lamjav had nearly caught up with Buhe； which so frightened Lamjav that he asked others to sell his pelts for him。”
The old man frowned。 “You two hunt wolves too often。 You get more kills than anyone on the pasture。”
Batu defended himself： “The grazing land for our herd of horses is the closest to the border with Outer Mongolia； and that’s where most of the wolves are。 If we don’t hunt them； they’ll cross the border in even greater numbers。 Most of the foals that year did not survive。”
“Why are both of you here？ Did you leave the herd in the care of Zhang Jiyuan？”
狼图腾（英文版）3（4）
“The wolves e at night；” Batu said； “so we relieve him then。 He’s never taken gazelles during the day； so we came instead。 We can work faster。”
The winter sun lay low in the sky； appearing to settle close to the land。 The blue sky turned white； as did the dry grass； the surface of the snow began to melt； forming a glittery mirror。 Humans； dogs； and carts had a spectral quality。 The men put on their sunglasses； while the women and children covered their eyes with their flapped sleeves。 A few of the cowherds； who suffered from sun…blindness； shut their eyes； but not in time to stanch the flow of tears。 The big dogs； on the other hand； were either watching wide…eyed at bounding hares or sniffing the side of the road； where foxes had recently left tracks in the snow。
As they neared the site of the encirclement； the dogs discovered something new on the slope and raced over； leaving frenzied barks in their wakes。 Those that were still hungry tore into gazelle carcasses the wolves had left behind。 But Bilgee’s Bar and a few of the team’s better hunting dogs； their hackles raised； ran over to where the wolves had left droppings in the snow； searching the area to determine how many wolves there had been； how powerful a force； and which alpha male they had followed。 “Bar recognizes the scent of most of the Olonbulag wolves；” Bilgee said； “and they recognize his。 The way the fur on his neck is standing up is a sure sign that it was a large pack。”
As the riders entered the hunting ground； they sized the scene up by keeping their eyes to the ground。 All that remained of most gazelles on the slope were heads and a scattering of bones。 Bilgee pointed to the tracks in the snow and said； “Some of them came back last night。” Then he pointed to tufts of grayish…yellow wolf fur and said； “A couple of wolf packs had a fight here。 It was probably a pack from the other side of the border that followed the scent of the gazelle herd。 The short—age of food there makes them more ferocious than ever。”
The horse team finally made it up to the ridge； where they reacted as if they’d discovered a cornucopia； whooping it up like mad。 They waved their hats to the carts behind them。 Gasmai jumped down off her wagon and grabbed the bridle of the lead ox to get it to trot。 So did the other women。 They gathered speed； since the oxen were fast and the carts light。
When Lamjav saw the sight below； his eyes nearly popped out of his head。 “Yow！” he exclaimed。 “It took an amazing pack of wolves to herd in that many gazelles。 Last year it took more than twenty of us herders to pen thirty； and we nearly ran our horses into the ground doing it。”
Bilgee reined in his horse and took out his telescope to pan the snow…drift and the surrounding mountains。 Everyone else reined in their horses too and looked around； waiting to hear what he had to say。
Chen viewed the slope through his telescope。 Countless gazelles were buried in the snowdrift； which could also have been the burial site of ancient warriors。 The center of the drift was relatively smooth； like a mountain lake sealed by snow and ice。 A dozen or so gazelle carca