Wolf Totem: A Novel (28 page)

Suddenly, a chilled fragrance wafted over on the wind. It was the sweet medicinal smell of artemisia, a strong, cold, refreshing smell. As soon as the horses stepped on the thick artemisia, Bilgee reined in his horse. So did the others. The old man and the heads of the production teams behind him, as well as the hunters in the party, exchanged whispered comments, and the line began to spread out in both directions. A column of more than a hundred riders was quickly transformed into a straight rank of evenly spaced fighters. The sound of horse hooves stretched far and eventually died out. Chen Zhen stayed close to the old man.

All of a sudden, Chen was blinded by a light. A beam from Bilgee’s flashlight tore through the darkness and was answered by lights from both directions. The old man swung his light three times, and the distant lights forwarded the signal up and down the line.

Then the old man’s dry, shrill voice broke the silence: “Wu—hu—”

The sound echoed and splintered, and within seconds was answered: “Wu—hu—” “Yi—hu—” “Ah—hu—”

Male voices, female voices, old voices, youthful voices, all merging together. The calls from the nearest group, Gasmai’s Mongolian women’s unit, were loud and crisp, ranged from high to low, and hung in the air a long time. Her calls were especially resonant as all the women and all the men in the brigade shouted as if they were on night watch in order to frighten and trick the wolves; the sound rumbled through the night, wave after wave pressing toward the northwest.

At the same time, more than a hundred dogs strained at their leashes and filled the air with frenzied barking, thundering through the sky.

In the wake of the sound war, the opening salvos of a light war commenced, with beams from all sorts of flashlights sweeping the northwestern darkness. The inky-black, snow-covered ground suddenly reflected countless beams of cold light, creating a scene more awesome and more fearsome than a flash of swords slicing through the frigid air.

Waves of sound and beams of light filled the gaps between the people and the dogs. The humans, the horses, the dogs, the sounds, and the lights formed a loose but effective, powerful, and dynamic net spreading over the wolf pack.

Chen Zhen, Yang Ke, and all the other Beijing students were so excited by the extraordinary scene that they whooped and hollered and gestured wildly. The people’s morale soared, their voices rocked the heavens. Chen was now able to see where he was. It was a spot just south of the site of the horse massacre. Bilgee had unerringly led the party to the northeastern edge of the great lake, where they had then fanned out to form a net. Before he knew it, men, horses, and dogs had all skirted the lake and, with amazing speed, set up an encirclement on its northern edge.

Bilgee whipped his horse as he galloped down the line of hunters, anxiously searching the ground with his light for tracks in the snow as he inspected the formation, moving people when necessary. Chen followed close behind him. The old man reined in his horse. “The pack passed by here not long ago. A lot of them. See those tracks? They’re fresh. It looks like we’ll get them this time, and all these people won’t have frozen out here for nothing.”

“Why not just encircle the wolves here at the lake?” Chen asked.

“That wouldn’t work,” the old man replied. “The pack feeds on frozen horsemeat in the early-morning hours and slips away before the sun is up. If we surrounded them while it was still dark, how would we be able to trap them? The dogs couldn’t see them, and the wolves could run in all directions. We’d come up empty. The party had to set out after midnight and have the encirclement in place before daybreak.”

Flashlight signals continued from left and right. Bilgee stood up in his stirrups, holding on to the horn, and sent a stream of light commands in both directions, some long, others quite short, with crosses and circles, all part of a complicated set of signals. The semicircle of hunters moved ahead nervously but in orderly fashion, with human shouts, horse whinnies, and dog barks advancing in waves. Beams crisscrossed on the snowy ground and in the air, creating fans of light. Humans, horses, and dogs shrieked and snorted and yelped when they spotted wolf tracks in the snow, a sure sign of excitement as the battle loomed.

“What are you signaling?” Chen asked.

Without a break in his signals, the old man said, “I’m telling the people to the west to slow down and the ones to the east to hurry a little to link up with the people coming down the mountain. And I need for the people in the middle to hold the line and not get overanxious. Moving too soon is as bad as starting too late.”

Chen looked up into the sky, which no longer resembled a steel curtain; he could make out the shapes of clouds that were drifting to the southeast and a bit of gray on the edges.

The big dogs had already picked up the scent of wolves, and their barks took on greater ferocity and irritability. Erlang was biting his leash, fighting it, struggling to burst ahead. Holding him back with all his strength, Chen reached out and tapped the dog on the head with his lasso pole to get him to obey.

While most of the wolf tracks pointed northwest, some went in other directions. Bilgee never stopped inspecting the tracks or flashing signals.

“How did people manage before there were flashlights?” Chen asked.

“With torches, wood wrapped with butter-soaked felt. They were as bright as these, and the wolves were scared to death of them. If one came at you, you could burn its fur.”

As the sky lightened, Chen could make out the sights of the grassland; it was where he had grazed his sheep for several months. Off to the northwest, in his mind’s eye he could see a broad basin ringed by mountains on three sides, with a gentle slope on one. That was likely where Bilgee planned to tighten the noose. The horse herders were lying in ambush behind the mountains, so as soon as the wolves were driven into the basin, the men, horses, and dogs behind them would close the door, and the war of annihilation would begin. But Chen could not even guess how many wolves might be caught. If the pack was really big, the cornered wolves would fight back, and the hunters would have to engage them in close combat. Chen removed his herding club from the saddle and looped it around his wrist, ready to try Batu’s special wolf-killing skill but still feeling jittery.

The wind was getting stronger, the clouds moving more rapidly; the sun’s rays seeped in between the clouds to bring some hazy light to the grassland. Cries of surprise erupted from the men when they reached the mouth of the basin. In the faint morning light, they saw two dozen big wolves pacing and stopping, looking all around, but not daring to move into the basin. Near the opening to the pass, another pack moved in and out of sight; they too appeared concerned about the lay of the land. For all he knew, they may have already gotten a whiff of the danger ahead.

Chen gasped in admiration over Bilgee’s precise calculations and his guidance in the formation of the encirclement line. By the time the wolf pack realized where they had been driven and saw the array of hunters around them, the noose had been tightened; as soon as the flashlights lost their power to intimidate, the hunters’ lasso poles were in sight. The wolves were, in fact, trapped as the two ends of the semicircle neared the outer limits of the basin.

After several of the leading wolves assessed the situation, they turned and, without a moment’s hesitation, led the pack back to where it had come from. They had just eaten their fill of horseflesh and were it had come from. They had just eaten their fill of horseflesh and were incredibly spirited. They ran with power and awesome ferocity. A terrifying layer of wolf mist rose from the snow as they streamed past; nothing, it seemed, could stop them. Shouts erupted from the herdsmen as they brandished their lasso poles and rode out to meet the charging wolves. The riders on the two ends moved quickly to seal the gaps that had opened up.

The wolf pack offensive remained strong but slightly altered the direction of its main attack as it stormed the group of women, who wore the most colorful clothing and had the fewest lasso poles. None of the women, including Gasmai, blanched in the face of the attack. Standing up in the stirrups, they flailed their arms and shouted at the top of their lungs, as if prepared to block the way with their arms alone. But since the women had few lasso poles, the wolves saw this as the weak link in the chain and hoped to break through with a concentration of might and determination. Chen’s heart nearly stopped as the likelihood of a breakdown loomed.

At that moment, Bilgee stood up in the saddle, raised his arm high, and brought it down sharply. “Release the dogs!” he shouted. From up and down the line, whistles and commands arose, as the handlers let go of the leashes and more than a hundred snarling dogs with harnessed power and red eyes exploded in the direction of the wolves from the east, the south, and the west. Bar, Erlang, and several other of the biggest, bravest, and fiercest assassin-dogs of the brigade headed for the leaders of the pack. The other dogs followed, anxious to show their mettle in the presence of their masters, barking madly as each tried to outcharge the others.

Meanwhile, horsemen sped to strengthen the array, those with lasso poles spurring their horses on to join the charge by the dogs. Snow and dirt flew from the pounding hooves; the intrepid Mongol warriors filled the air with bursts of murderous shouts once feared the world over—Hah! Hah! Hah!—accompanied by the rhythmic tattoo of galloping horses.

The daunting offensive rocked the wolves, whose leaders skidded to a stop, turned, and led the pack in a race to the mountain pass, their only means of retreat and a chance to link up with the wolves just beyond. They split up, heading toward three separate slopes to break out of the encirclement and take the high ground, either to reach the mountain peaks and negotiate a circular route or to charge downhill.

The formation of hunters stretched out into a straight line and sealed the mountain pass. Bilgee had the wolves just where he wanted them.

On the other side of the mountain, the director Uljii and the military representative Bao Shungui stayed hidden in tall grass, nervously observing the situation on the battlefield before their eyes. Bao excitedly hit the snowy ground with his fist. “Who said that Bilgee always takes the wolves’ side?” he exclaimed. “You see, he trapped this pack exactly when and where he was supposed to. He’s amazing. I’ve never seen so many wolves. You have to hand it to the old man. I’ll see he’s rewarded for his service.”

Uljii too breathed a sigh of relief. There were, as he could see, forty or fifty wolves caught in the trap. In years past, a pack of ten or twenty was the best they could hope for. But Bilgee was the Olonbulag alpha male. At each year’s encirclement hunt, if he wasn’t in charge, hunters did not feel like participating. But the slaughter of the horses had enraged him. Uljii turned and said to Batu, “Pass the word: no one is to fire his weapon, not even into the air. There are too many people out here today, and we can’t take the chance of a stray bullet hitting someone.”

“I’ve told them several times already,” Batu said.

Behind the mountain, the horse herders and hunters were in the saddle, waiting for a signal. They were the best the pasture had to offer, expert riders with superb lasso-pole and herding-club skills. For this hunt, they had chosen their fastest, most spirited mounts, horses they normally pampered, for they were still filled with anger over the loss of the horse herd, anger they planned to purge on this day. The horses, hearing the frenzied barking of dogs, were in the grip of prebattle tension. Their heads lowered as they tugged on the reins, they pawed at the snowy ground, chest and leg muscles pulled taut. Their hind legs were like springs in a trap, and the moment their riders relaxed the reins, they would burst forward. The leashed hunting dogs had also been chosen for their ferocity, alertness, and extensive training. They too had heard the sounds of impending battle, but they remained silent, mouths open, eyes glued to their masters, well-disciplined and battle-tested veterans.

Uljii and Batu slowly arched their bodies, ready to give the signal.

The main force of the wolf pack seemed focused on breaking through the encirclement at the highest point off to the northwest. Neither men, horses, nor dogs are a match for wolves in gaining high ground. With their powerful physiques, unparalleled stamina, and enviable lung capacity, they are used to leaving their enemies behind as they race to the tops of mountains. Even the few hunting dogs and lasso horses, which can outrun wolves on level ground, quickly drop behind once the wolves begin running uphill. When they reach the mountaintop, they stop to catch their breaths, search for the surest way to elude their enemy—the steepest slope, a hidden valley, a ravine—and move like lightning. Often, by the time horse and rider are at the top, the wolves have vanished without a trace; if they happen to be in sight, they will already be far out of rifle range.

The wolves ran for the mountain at full speed, their pursuers lagging behind. The fastest wolves were at the head of the force, the alpha male and several large wolves off to the side. Uljii pointed to one of them, a wolf with mixed gray-and-white fur on its neck and chest, and said to Batu, “That’s the leader! He’s the one who led the pack in the horse massacre. He’s yours. Let’s go!”

The pack was several hundred feet away. Batu stepped back, grabbed his lasso pole, and jumped into the saddle. Uljii climbed onto his horse and yelled, “Attack!”

Batu thrust his pole high into the air, like a battle flag, as the horse herders cried out “Go! Go!” Dozens of hunting dogs and horses were on the mountaintop almost at once. The dogs zeroed in on their targets like torpedoes. Two-thirds of the horse herders rode out in front and formed a semicircle nearly halfway down the slope, where they linked up with the hunters under the command of Bilgee. The remaining third rode straight at the wolves with their long poles.