書籍簡介
狼圖騰狼圖騰英文版
由中國長江出版集團北京圖書中心出版的中文版《狼圖騰》迄今已發行4年多時間，總計發行240萬冊，連續4年高居中文圖書暢銷書榜。該書不僅引發中國讀者的熱議，也引起歐美國家的關注。目前，《狼圖騰》已經有了英文版、法文版、義大利版、荷蘭版、日文版、韓文版、越南語版，並將陸續出版德文版、俄文版、西班牙文版等，總計26種語言版本。2007年11月，該書的英文書稿榮獲曼氏亞洲文學獎，在240部亞洲各國推薦的作品中脫穎而出，摘得唯一的桂冠。
2008年中國奧運之火在世界各地點燃之際，一個迅速燃燒的文化現象登上已開發國家的報章：一部描寫狼和遊牧文化的中國奇書《狼圖騰》在3月中旬全球發行。美國的《紐約時報》、《時代周刊》，英國的《泰晤士報》、《衛報》，德國的《明鏡周刊》、《德意志報》，義大利的《義大利郵報》，日本的《朝日新聞》、《讀賣新聞》等幾十個國家的主流報紙和雜誌都發表了評論和對作家的專訪訊息。為了配合《狼圖騰》英文版的發行，英文的企鵝出版社在泰晤士河畔搭起了蒙古包，澳大利亞的企鵝在墨爾本召開遊牧文化的研討會，美國的企鵝在落衫磯舉辦《狼圖騰》的讀書演講……
本書由幾十個有機連貫的“狼故事”一氣呵成，情節緊張激烈而又新奇神秘。讀者可從書中每一篇章、每個細節中攫取強烈的閱讀快感，令人慾罷不能。那些精靈一般的蒙古草原狼隨時從書中呼嘯而出：狼的每一次偵察、布陣、伏擊、奇襲的高超戰術;狼對氣象、地形的巧妙利用；狼的視死如歸和不屈不撓；狼族中的友愛親情；狼與草原萬物的關係；倔強可愛的小狼在失去自由後艱難的成長過程――無不使我們聯想到人類，進而思考人類歷史中那些迄今縣置未解的一個個疑問：當年區區十幾萬蒙古騎兵為什麼能夠橫掃歐亞大陸？中華民族今日遼闊疆土由來的深層原因？歷史上究竟是華夏文明徵服了遊牧民族，還是遊牧民族一次次為漢民族輸血才使中華文明得以延續？為什麼中國馬背上的民族，從古至今不崇拜馬圖騰而信奉狼圖騰？中華文明從未中斷的原因，是否在於中國還存在著一個從未中斷的狼圖騰文化？於是，我們不能不追思遙想，不能不面對我們曾經輝煌也曾經破碎的山河和歷史發出叩問：我們口口聲聲自詡是炎黃子孫，可知“龍圖騰”極有可能是從遊牧民族的“狼圖騰”演變而來？華廈民族的“龍圖騰崇拜”，是否將從此揭秘？我們究竟是龍的傳人還是狼的傳人？
作者簡介(英文)
Jiang Rong was born in Jiangsu in 1946. His father's job saw the family move to Beijing in 1957, graduating from the middle school attached to the China Central Academy of Fine Arts in 1966
His education cut short by events in China, the twenty-one-year-old Jiang volunteered to work in Inner Mongolia's East Ujimchin Banner in 1967, where he lived and labored with the native nomads until the age of thirty-three. He took with him two cases filled with Chinese translations of Western literary classics, and spent eleven years immersed in personal studies of Mongolian history, culture, and tradition. In particular, he developed afascinationfor the mythologies surrounding the wolves of the grasslands, spending much of his leisure time learning the stories and raising an orphaned wolf cub.
Following his return to Beijing in 1978, Jiang embarked on postgraduate studies in olitical science at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. Jiang received a Masters degree in law in 1982, and assumed an academic position at a Beijing university. Now retired, he lives in Beijing, with his wife.
作者簡介(中文)
姜戎姜戎，生於1946年，北京人。北京某大學研究人員。主業為政治經濟學，偏重政治學方面。
作者1967年自願赴內蒙古額侖草原插隊。1978年返城。1979年考入社科院研究生院。 其作品《狼圖騰》1971年起腹稿於內蒙古錫盟東烏珠穆沁草原。1997年初稿於北京。2003年歲末定稿於北京。2004年4月出版。
譯者簡介
葛浩文葛浩文（Howard Goldblatt ），美國著名的翻譯家，出生1939年，20世紀60年代服役期間在台灣學習漢語，後獲得印第安納大學中國文學博士學位。 目前是英文世界地位最高的中國文學翻譯家。他的翻譯嚴謹而講究，“讓中國文學披上了當代英美文學的色彩”。
葛浩文的翻譯清單包括蕭紅、陳若曦、白先勇、李昂、張潔、楊絳、馮驥才、古華、賈平凹、李銳、劉恆、蘇童、老鬼、王朔、莫言、虹影、阿來、朱天文、朱天心、姜戎等二十多位名家的四十多部作品。
《狼圖騰》的看點
一、譯者葛浩文先生的高超翻譯（曾翻譯過莫言、王朔、賈平凹、蘇童等著名作家作品）公認為是世界第一。
二、為了適應年輕讀者和外國讀者，譯者加注了很多註解，使波瀾起伏的故事緊扣心弦，更加小說化和故事化。比中文版更加的酣暢淋漓和迴腸盪氣！並且英文版榮獲亞洲文學獎！
三、英文對比閱讀會成為國內英語愛好者的時尚追求。國內的英語愛好者，尤其是大學生和高中生大都讀過中文版《狼圖騰》，該書的地道的英語翻譯水平和對位中文的英語表達，50萬字浩瀚的語詞文庫，一定會使英語愛好者以及大學高中學生們有大塊朵頤的閱讀快感，極快地提高英語水平。這種持續的口碑最終會將英文版《狼圖騰》再度發酵為國內暢銷書。
《狼圖騰》英文版
3月13日下午，《狼圖騰》英文版在故宮御膳房全球首發。新聞出版署的部分領導，《狼圖騰》英文版翻譯、著名翻譯家葛浩文等出席了本次首發式。
（以下為本次首發式實錄）
長江文藝出版社總編輯安波舜：尊敬的各位來賓、新聞界的朋友們，大家好。能夠在凝聚五千年文化的故宮御膳房召開英文版《狼圖騰》的首發式，感慨萬千。中國的明朝第二代皇帝修建故宮的時候，中國還是相當的開放，產生過鄭和下南洋的壯舉；但到了清朝坐鎮故宮的時候，又閉關鎖國，使中國的文明進程和世界各國的文化交流幾乎停頓。一百多年以後的今天，我們的國家經過20多年的改革開放，國力增強，和平崛起，與世界各國的文化交流和合作，又邁上一個新的台階。英文版的《狼圖騰》能夠在這裡舉行首發式，就是一個很好的證明。我們的出口的不僅有牛仔褲、皮鞋和襪子，還有文化產品，還有活躍在書中的幾十匹草原狼，作為一個出版者和該書的責任編輯，我十分的榮幸。在此，我代表長江出版集團北京圖書中心的同事，衷心的感謝新聞出版署的領導和長江出版集團的領導，對我們出版產品“走出去”給予的支持和幫助。更感謝企鵝出版集團對《狼圖騰》的一見鍾情，並把這種愛，推向世界的文化舞台。
我由衷要感謝的是，《狼圖騰》的翻譯者葛浩文先生。葛先生是中國讀者和文化界熟悉的老朋友，他20多年來，先後翻譯過我國著名作家的40多部作品，為中國文學走向世界，促進不同文明和文化之間的對話和交流，做出了巨大的貢獻。在今天的中國文壇，提起葛先生，每一個人都肅然起敬。尤其是在翻譯《狼圖騰》的過程中，他深厚的中英文的學者功底，和對小說藝術的獨到見解，使英文版的《狼圖騰》增色不少，流暢和生動很多，不僅得到英文讀者的喜愛，也得到了曼氏亞洲文學獎評審們的青睞。我作為一個小說編輯，對葛先生的辛勤勞動和藝術智慧，再次的表示感謝。
《狼圖騰》中文版出版四年來，總計發行240萬冊。至今還高居在暢銷書榜。銷售海外著作權26個語種和國家，已經出版的有英文版、法文版、荷蘭語版、義大利語版、日文版、韓文版、越南語版，陸續出版的有德語、俄語、土耳其語、西班牙語、葡萄牙語、斯堪維迪亞語、芬蘭語、波蘭語、塞爾維亞語、希臘語和匈牙利語等。對於這么多國家和語種爭先恐後地購買翻譯《狼圖騰》，是極為罕見的一種出版現象。欣喜之餘，我們不能不感謝我們的時代和國家的影響力，感謝2008年北京奧運會帶來的東風。
最後預祝英文版《狼圖騰》在中國在全球發行成功，也希望大家重讀一遍《狼圖騰》，讓我們共同感受狼的團隊精神和獨立、自由和尊嚴，為人類與自然的和諧，為保護美麗而廣闊的內蒙古草原祈禱祝福。
謝謝大家!
葛浩文：大家好。我今天能夠在漢人的龍圖騰的大本營說幾句蒙古人的圖騰狼，感到非常榮幸。感謝長江出版社給我這個機會。我也感到不好意思：第一，我不是作者，這不是我的經歷，也不是我的故事，但讓我來代表他，閩南語有句話是：沒有魚，蝦也可以。我就當蝦吧。《狼圖騰》的翻譯有很多人，讓我來代表，我就既來之，則安之吧。我是生長在大都市的美國佬，從小就怕狼，狼群更可怕。聽說二戰時德國的特種兵就是狼群。看了這本書後，我還是怕狼，但我對這種動物的認識更多，崇拜他們的生命力，對自然環境的貢獻之大。中國眼前的好作家很多，好作品更多，可這些作品在國外行銷有很大問題，因為總趕不上中國的電影。問題在行銷，在讀者，不在作者。中國圖書在美國的情況在改良，看著中國，中國除了經濟、政治上的現象，我們也注意文化上的現象。我翻譯小說，感覺中國的小說一天比一天好。《狼圖騰》是一本很特殊的小說，前無古人，後無來者，有些國家已經出版了翻譯版，是很大突破。我希望英文版也是個突破，希望讀者對內蒙古、對中國的問題有新的認識。
《狼圖騰》的故事很強，異國人是關心異國文化的。書中體現的第一是大自然，環保的破壞、生態的破壞。我們應該追尋其中的原因；第二，文化的衝突，漢人、蒙人的衝突，現在這是全球很大的問題，書上沒說怎么解決，但能讓讀者注意到這個問題。感謝長江出版社出版了我的譯著，我希望這個翻譯對得起作者，對得起書，對得起我的英文讀者。
周海倫：我很榮幸今天能來這么美的地方說這么好的話題。《狼圖騰》這本書是我們公司最重要的一個項目。三年前買了這本書的英文著作權，是我們公司的第一個工作，這三年來時間很長，但對我們來說是很大的工作，也是企業很看重的工作。另外書中的故事是國際性的，包括環保、民族關係等。西方讀者看後會感到新鮮。今天很榮幸在中國發行，3月27日我們在全球發行。
新聞出版總署對外交流合作司領導：改革開放三十年，中國有重大變化，國際出版界很重視。我們對外文翻譯表示支持。產品、渠道等方面借鑑國內外的資源，長江出版集團做出了不少成績，《狼圖騰》的成功是合作出版的結果。我們鼓勵企業探索“走出去”的道路。
周百義：三年前，我們在北京和企鵝集團舉行了簽約儀式，三年後在故宮舉行英文版的首發式，這有著很深遠的意義。我作為長江出版集團的一員感謝企鵝集團，感謝亞洲文學獎的評審，感謝姜戎。我們能把這本書推向全世界，得益於每個人的支持。中國的現當代文學在國際上的影響目前還不夠顯著，但我們相信通過實現中國文化“走出去”的計畫，會讓全世界的朋友了解變化的中國社會和中國人民。2008年，中國要在北京舉辦奧運會，周海倫想借這本書把中國文化推向全世界，讓全世界的讀者在這本書里了解中國文化。我在此預祝這本書的發行能達到企鵝出版集團的目標。
評審：曼氏亞洲文學獎也叫曼氏BOOK文學獎，目的是把亞洲的文學推向英文國家。評審一共三位，我代表另兩位評審來講話很榮幸。作為第一屆文學獎的評審，我們希望找到非常優秀的作品，看到《狼圖騰》時我們驚喜若狂。雖然三個評審來自三個國家，彼此沒有交流，但我們把評選結果放在一起時我們發現我們選的第一名都是《狼圖騰》。這本書是一個原創小說，是令人驚喜的小說，展現了中國人是如何看待全世界都關心的話題。就像葛浩文說的，談論了人與自然、不同文化之前的關係。我堅信這本書在英語世界裡的發行會暢銷很多年，就像今天的太陽一樣，陽光明媚，照耀著我們的首發式。非常恭喜姜戎先生、葛浩文先生，這本書太好了，非常感謝長江出版社與企鵝出版社的合作，把這本書帶到全世界。
書中主人公原型：不敢說是楊克的原型，只是有點影子。這本書有個特點，第一是它的真實，那樣的生活是我們不能都經歷的，第二，它是一種文化，古老的文明打動了我們，第三，這種環境不被別人了解，800年前，蒙古與世界曾有文化交流，而現在國際上又了解了古老的東方文明。
草原牧民朋友代表――小說里天鵝湖畔一村的村長：今天來到這裡非常榮幸。我們牧民聽說了這件事都很高興。我們也在保護《狼圖騰》故地的生活環境。
記者：問葛浩文先生，您下一部會翻譯什麼書？問長江文藝出版社(blog)的領導，有沒有影視改編的意向？
葛浩文：剛出了莫言的《生死疲勞》，另一個很有意思的小說，張煒的《古船》。
安波舜：我們正在做工作，幾年前，出版半年後影視著作權就賣給了紫金城影視公司，目前很多藝術形態的公司都在和我們聯繫。
記者：問葛浩文先生，您小時候是怕狼的，您譯完這本書對狼的感覺有變化嗎？您對這本書的翻譯過程中有沒有超越原創之處？
葛浩文：我沒見過狼，只是在文學作品中聽說過的狼印象不好。翻譯過程對我來說是例外。我看了三章五章時就決定邊讀邊譯，我想讀者想感到的驚訝的情感，我翻的時候也要感到。比如楊克看到天鵝湖的感觸，我想到了我小時看到美景的感觸。超過原著的地方我沒有這么大的才氣，我還是尊重原著的。我沒有看完後再譯，是想把感情放進去。作者也是學歷史的，我沒流過血，但他流的淚我還是流過的。
記者：譯者的客群在外國的讀者。您怎樣把蒙古的文化更好的傳達給自己的讀者？問國家出版社署的領導，中國好多優秀的現當代作品在國外的翻譯狀況，產生的影響如何？
葛浩文：我最大的導師就是文本，我沒去蒙古，也當過中國人，我看書時看到幾十年以前的內蒙古，以文本為主，把作者寫的感情譯出來。
周海倫：國外市場中，《狼圖騰》正在發行，我們還不知道結果。姜戎先生已經接受了幾十個國外媒體的採訪，葛浩文先生也在回答媒體提問。我們還會做一些電視短片，各國人都會在網上看到。很多人在我們出版之前就知道了這本書，評價很好，這個判斷是最重要的。我們可以行銷和推廣，但最有效的方式就是讀者之間的評價。
總署領導：我們現在的任務就是鼓勵出版企業的品牌建設和“走出去”。今天我們參加這個活動，主要想法是：這本書是以商業模式運作出去的產品。前幾年，政府的政策是做出了出版計畫，近年工作力度在加大，但也強調市場運作的方式。我們接觸出版企業的同行，《紅樓夢》(紅樓夢吧)西方人知道的不多，如果直接翻譯出去，人們對這本書不了解，也就不會有影響力，我們構想可以借用中國古代男女戀愛方式這種話題來傳達。走出去不可能不掙錢，宣傳方式是我們要考慮的，以後的調研工作還要加強。
記者：問葛浩文先生，中國電影在西方得到一定認可，但也有很多人認為只是滿足了西方人的獵奇心理，您認為《狼圖騰》會不會也這樣？您譯過中國人的很多作品，您能否看出中國作品的進步？姜戎不是專業作家，有評論認為50年代生人的作家是不了解中國國情變化的，您怎么看？
葛浩文：我是外來的和尚，我只能回答你美國讀者的現狀。我對電影也不是專家，我對小說的評價也是個人喜好。美國有點腦筋的讀者都喜歡看好小說，他們認為好小說都是英語寫的，不必要看譯書，但如今美國人也是向外看的，看全球作品的。《狼圖騰》很好，《青衣》(青衣吧)在英國已經有反響了，這樣有反響的作品多了，中國的好事情就來了。
記者：問葛浩文先生，聽說在翻譯過程中，您有增刪，是這樣嗎？出於什麼考慮？
葛浩文：是編輯部有所刪除。導言我就沒有譯。編輯部說讀者要看的是小說內容，這些社科方面的文獻就不用譯了。我徵求了作者的同意，就這樣刪了。文字上應該不算增加，中國三個字可能英文變成了一句話，但內容沒有增加。
記者：書要拍成電影嗎？
安波舜：聽說紫禁城電影公司正在協商，目前進展不詳。
記者：問葛浩文先生，您翻譯過程中，覺得中國的作品與國外的作品相比有什麼特點，哪些東西是西方讀者感興趣的？
葛浩文：各有春秋。最大的特點是語言，但翻譯後這個特點就取消了。技巧有相當的區別，所以有一段時間，中國作家受西方莫克小說影響，不是寫壞了，而是沒寫自己的東西，當然這個時間已經過去了。
書摘
As Chen Zhen looked through the telescope from his hiding place in the snow cave, he saw the steely gaze of a Mongolian grassland wolf. The fine hairs on his body rose up like porcupine quills, virtually pulling his shirt away from his skin. Old Man Bilgee was there beside him. This time Chen did not feel as if his soul had been driven out of his body, but sweat oozed from his pores. He had been on the grassland two years but still had not lost his fear of Mongolian wolves, especially in packs. Now he was face to face with a large pack deep in the mountains, far from camp, his misty breath quivering in the air. Neither he nor Bilgee was armed―no rifles, no knives, no lasso poles, not even something as simple as a pair of metal stirrups. All they had were two herding clubs, and if the wolves picked up their scent, their sky burial would come early.
Chen exhaled nervously as he turned to look at the old man, who was watching the wolf encirclement through the other telescope. “You’re going to need more courage than that,” Bilgee said softly. “You’re like a sheep. A fear of wolves is in your Chinese bones. That’s the only expla―nation for why you people have never won a fight out here.” Getting no response, he leaned over and whispered, “Get a grip on yourself. If they spot any movement from us, we’ll be in real trouble.” Chen nodded and scooped up a handful of snow, which he squeezed into a ball of ice.
The herd of Mongolian gazelles was grazing on a nearby slope, unaware of the wolf pack, which was tightening the noose, drawing closer to the men’s snow cave. Not daring to move, Chen felt frozen in place, like an ice sculpture. This was Chen’s second encounter with a wolf pack since coming to the grassland. A palpitating fear from his first encounter coursed through his veins.
Two years earlier, in late November, he had arrived in the border―region pasture as a production team member from Beijing; snow cov―ered the land as far as the eye could see. The Olonbulag is located southwest of the Great Xing’an mountain range, directly north of Bei―jing; it shares a border with Outer Mongolia. Historically, it was the southern passage between Manchuria and the Mongolian steppes, and, as such, the site of battles between a host of peoples and nomadic tribes, as well as a territory in which the potential struggles for dominance by nomads and farmers was ever present.
Yurts had not yet been assigned to the Beijing students, the so-called educated youth, so Chen had been sent to live with Old Man Bilgee and his family, and given duties as a shepherd. One day slightly more than a month after his arrival, he and the old man were sent to headquarters, some eighty li, to fetch study materials and purchase daily necessities. Just before they were to head back, the old man was summoned to a meeting of the revolutionary committee. Since headquarters had said the study materials had to be delivered without delay, Chen was told to return alone.
As he was about to leave, the old man swapped horses with him, lending him his big, dark mount, a fast horse that knew the way. Bilgee warned Chen not to take a shortcut, but to follow the wagon road back; since there were yurts every twenty or thirty li, he ought to be able to make the trip without incident.
As soon as he was in the saddle and on his way, Chen sensed the power of his Mongol horse and felt the urge to gallop at full speed. When they reached a ridge from which he could see the peak of Chaganuul Moun―tain, where the brigade was quartered, he forgot the old man’s warning and left the road― which curved around the mountain, adding twenty li to the trip―to take a shortcut that led straight to camp.
The temperature began to fall, and when he was about halfway home, the sun shivered from the deepening cold before retreating to the horizon and slipping from view. Frigid air from the snowy ground rose up, turn―ing Chen’s leather duster hard and brittle. The hide of his mount was covered with a layer of sweat-frost. Their pace slowed as the snow deep―ened and little hillocks rose in their path. They were deep in the wilds, far from all signs ofhabitation. The horse trotted on, straight and smooth, so Chen relaxed the pressure on the bit to let the horse determine the pace and direction, as well as how hard it wanted to work. For no obvious reason, Chen suddenly tensed; he shuddered, becoming fearful that the horse might lose its way, fearful that the weather would turn ugly, fearful of being caught in asnowstorm, and fearful of freezing to death on the glacial grassland. The only thing he forgot to fear was the wolves.
Just before they reached aravine, the horse stopped, pointing toward a spot down the ravine. It tossed its head and snorted, its pace no longer steady. Chen Zhen, who had never beforeriddenalone deep into the snowy grassland, had noinklingof the danger ahead. But the agitated horse, its nostrils flaring, its eyes wide, turned to head away from what lay in front of them. Its intuition was lost on Chen, who pulled the reinstautto turn the animal’s head and keep it moving forward at a trot. Its gait grew increasinglyjerky, an erratic combination of walking, trotting, and jolting, as if the animal might bolt at any moment. Chen pulled back hard on the reins.
As if frustrated that its warning signals were not being heeded, the horse turned and nipped at its rider’s felt boot, and at that moment Chen recognized the danger facing them by the fear in the horse’s eyes. But it was too late, for the horse had carried him into theflaredopening of a gloomy ravine on trembling legs.
Chen turned to look down the ravine and was so terrified he nearly fell off the horse. There on a snow-covered slope not less than fifty yards away was a pack of golden-hued,murderous-looking Mongolian wolves, all watching him straight on or out of the corners of their eyes, their gazes boring into him like needles. The closest wolves were the biggest, easily the size of leopards and at least twice the size of the wolves he’d seen in the Beijing Zoo, half again as tall and as long, nose to tail. All dozen or so of the larger wolves had been sitting on the snowy ground, but they immediately stood up, their tails stretched out straight, like swords about to be unsheathed, or arrows on a tautbowstring. They werepoisedtopounce. The alpha male, surrounded by the others, was a gray wolf whose nearly white neck, chest, and abdomenshonelike white gold. The pack consisted of thirty or forty animals.
afterward, when Chen and Bilgee were rehashing the circumstances of the encounter, the old man wiped hissweatybrowwith his finger and said, “They must have been holding a council. The alpha male was likely passing out assignments for an attack on a herd of horses on the other side of the hill. You’d have realized your luck had you known that when their coats shine, they aren’t hungry.”
In fact, Chen’s mind was wiped clean the moment he spotted them, and the last thing he recalled was a muted but terrifying sound rising up to the top of his head, not unlike the thin whistle you get by blow―ing on the edge of a coin. It must have been the ping his soul made as it tore through his crown on its way out. He felt that his life had stopped for a minute or more.
Long afterward, whenever he recalled his encounter with the wolf pack, he silently thanked Papa Bilgee and his dark horse. The only reason he hadn’t fallen off was that the animal had lived its entire life in wolf territory, a battle-tested horse perfectly suited to the hunt. At the critical moment, as their lives hung in the balance, the horse grewextraordinarilycalm. Acting as if it didn’t even see the pack or that it had any intention of interrupting their council, it continued on at aleisurely, just-passing-through pace. With all the courage it possessed, and in full control of itshooves, it neither struggled to keep moving nor broke into a panicky gallop, but carried its rider at a steady pace that allowed Chen to sit up straight.
Maybe it was the horse’s extraordinary courage that summoned back Chen’s departed soul, but when that spirit, which had hovered in the frigid air for a moment, returned to his body, he felt reborn and was extraordinarily tranquil.
He forced himself to sit firmly in the saddle. Taking his cue from the horse, he pretended not to have seen the pack, though nervously keeping them in sight. He knew all about the speed of wolves on the Mongolian grassland. It would take but seconds to close the gap. And he knew how important it was not to show fear. That was the only way to avoid an attack by these grassland killers.
He sensed that the alpha male was gazing at the hill behind them; all the other members of the pack turned their pointed ears in the same direction, like radar locking on to a target. They silently awaited orders as theunarmedman and his horse pranced boldly past them; the alpha male and his followers were not sure what to make of this.
The sunset slowly faded away as man and horse drew ever nearer. The next couple of dozen steps comprised the longest journey of Chen Zhen’s life. A few steps into that journey, he sensed that one of the wolves had run up to the snow-covered slope behind him, and he knew intuitively that it was a scout sent by the alpha male to see if other troops lay in wait. Chen felt his soul straining to leave again.
The horse’s gait faltered slightly; Chen’s legs and the horse’s flanks were trembling. The horse turned its ears to the rear, nervously moni―toring the scout wolf ’s movements. Chen imagined himself passing through an enormous wolf ’s maw, with rows of razor-sharp teeth above and below; once he was in the middle, the mouth would snap shut. The horse began to gather its strength in its rear legs, preparing for a mortal engagement. But the burden on its back put it at a terrible disadvantage.
Suddenly, Chen Zhen, like the shepherd he was supposed to be, appealed to Tengger, Mongol heaven, in a moment of peril: Wise and powerful heaven, Tengger,Reach Outand give me your hand. Next he summoned Papa Bilgee under his breath. In the Mongol language, Bil―gee means “Wise One.” If only the old man would find a way to trans―mit his knowledge of the grassland directly into his brain. No echoes anywhere disturbed the stillness of the Olonbulag. Gripped by despair, Chen raised his eyes, wanting the last thing he saw to be the ice blue beauty of the heavens.
Then something Papa had said dropped from the sky and struck hiseardrumlike athunderclap: Wolves are afraid of rifles, lasso poles, and anything made of metal. He had no rifle and no lasso pole, but did he have anything made of metal? His foot felt warm. Yes! There under his feet were two large metal stirrups. His legs twitched excitedly.
Papa Bilgee had lent him his horse, but the saddle was Chen’s. No wonder the old man had picked out the largest stirrups he could find for him at the beginning; it was as if he knew that someday they would come to Chen’s rescue. Back then, when he was learning to ride, the old man had said that not only did small stirrups make staying in the sad―dle difficult, but if the horsebuckedyou off, your foot could get caught and you could be dragged along, which could lead to serious injury or death. These stirrups, with their large openings and rounded bottoms, were twice the size of the more common small-mouthed, fl at- bottomed ones, and double the weight.
The pack was waiting for the scout’s report; horse and rider were now directly opposite them. Chen quickly removed his feet from the stirrups, reached down, and pulled them up by their leather straps. Holding one in each hand, and calling upon all his strength, he spun the horse around, roared in the direction of the wolf pack, raised the heavy stirrups chest-high, and banged them together.
clangclang . . .
A crisp, ear-splitting clang, like a hammer on an anvil, tore through the silent air of the grassland and straight into the ears and the seats of courage of every wolf in the pack, like a sword. Nonnatural metal―lic noisesfrightenwolves more than any thunderstorm; they produce a sound that has a greater and moredevastatingimpact on them than the snap of a hunter’s trap.
The wolves trembled when the first clangs from Chen’s stirrups reso―nated in the air. The next burst sent them turning away; led by the alpha wolf, theyfledinto the mountains like a yellow storm, their ears pinned against their heads and their necks pulled into their shoulders. Even the scout abandoned its mission and followed the other members of the pack in fl ight.
Chen Zhen could hardly believe his eyes as he watched the wolves frightened off by a pair of metal stirrups. As his courage made its belated return, he banged the stirrups together wildly, then windmilled his arms like a shepherd and shouted, “Hurry! Hurry! There are wolves everywhere!”
For all he knew, the wolves understood Mongol and knew the mean―ing of human gestures; perhaps they’d been frightened into dispersal by what they’d assumed was a trap laid by hunters.
But they dispersed in orderly fashion, maintaining the ancient orga―nizational unity and group formation characteristic of grassland wolves: The most ferocious members serve as a vanguard, with the alpha male out in front, the pack’s larger wolves behind it. There is never any of the confusion commonly seen among fleeing birds and other wild animals. Chen was overwhelmed by the sight.
In a moment, the pack hadVanishedwithout a trace, and all that remained in the ravine were a white mist and swirling flakes of snow.
By then night had fallen. Before Chen could step fully into the stir―rups again, his horse took off like a shot, racing toward the nearest camp. Frigid air seeped into Chen’s collar and sleeves; the cold sweat on his body had turned to ice.
Having escaped from the wolf ’s maw, he became an immediate con―vert to the devotion paid to Tengger, just like his Mongol hosts. He also developed a complex attitude of fear, reverence, and infatuation toward the Mongolian wolf. It had touched his soul. How could it possess such a powerful attraction?
Chen did not catch sight of another wolf pack over the next two years. During the day he tended his sheep,occasionallyspotting a lone wolf, maybe two, off in the distance. Even when he was far from camp, he never saw more than four or five at one time. Often, however, he came across the remains of sheep or cattle or horses that had been killed by wolves, individually or in packs. There might be one or two dead sheep, two or three cows, and maybe three or four horses; but sometimes carcasses would be strewn over a wide area. When he was out making calls on people, he regularly saw wolf pelts hanging on tall poles, like flags waving in the wind.
Now Bilgee lay fl at in the snow cave, not moving a muscle, his eyes glued to the gazelles grazing on the slope and the wolf pack that was inching nearer. “Stay calm,” he whispered to Chen. “The first thing you need to learn as a hunter is patience.”
Having Bilgee beside him was comforting. Chen rubbed his eyes to clear away the mist and blinked calmly at Bilgee, then raised his tele―scope again to watch the gazelles and the wolves. The pack still had not given itself away.
Since his earlier encounter with the wolves, he had come to under―stand that the inhabitants of the grassland, the nomads, were never far from being surrounded by wolves. Nearly every night he spotted ghostly wolf outlines, especially during the frigid winter; two or three, perhaps five or six, and as many as a dozen pairs of glittering green lights mov―ing around the perimeter of the grazing land, as far as a hundred li or more distant. One night he and Bilgee’s daughter-in-law Gasmai, aided by flashlights, counted twenty- five of them.
