狼图腾(英文版)-第18部分

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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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