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d　isn’t　a　life？　Out　here；　the　grass　and　the　grassland　are　the　life；　the　big　life。　All　else　is　little　life　that　depends　on　the　big　life　for　survival。　Even　wolves　and　humans　are　little　life。　Creatures　that　eat　grass　are　worse　than　creatures　that　eat　meat。　To　you；　the　gazelle　is　to　be　pitied。　So　the　grass　isn’t　to　be　pitied；　is　that　it？　The　gazelles　have　four　fast…moving　legs；　and　most　of　the　time　wolves　spit　up　blood　from　exhaustion　trying　to　catch　them。　When　the　gazelles　are　thirsty；　they　run　to　the　river　to　drink；　and　when　they’re　cold；　they　run　to　a　warm　spot　on　the　mountain　to　soak　up　some　sun。　But　the　grass？　Grass　is　the　big　life；　yet　it　is　the　most　fragile；　the　most　miserable　life。　Its　roots　are　shallow；　the　soil　is　thin；　and　though　it　lives　on　the　ground；　it　cannot　run　away。　Anyone　can　step　on　it；　eat　it；　chew　it；　crush　it。　A　urinating　horse　can　burn　a　large　spot　in　it。　And　if　the　grass　grows　in　sand　or　in　the　cracks　between　rocks；　it　is　even　shorter；　because　it　cannot　grow　flowers；　which　means　it　cannot　spread　its　seeds。　For　us　Mongols；　there’s　nothing　more　deserving　of　pity　than　the　grass。　If　you　want　to　talk　about　killing；　then　the　gazelles　kill　more　grass　than　any　mowing　machine　could。　When　they　graze　the　land；　isn’t　that　killing？　Isn’t　that　taking　the　big　life　of　the　grassland？　When　you　kill　off　the　big　life　of　the　grassland；　all　the　little　lives　are　doomed。　The　damage　done　by　the　gazelles　far　outstrips　any　done　by　the　wolves。　The　yellow　gazelles　are　the　deadliest；　for　they　can　end　the　lives　of　the　people　here。”　The　old　man’s　wispy　goatee　quivered；　worse　than　the　gazelle　at　their　feet。
　　

狼图腾（英文版）3（10）
Chen　Zhen　was　deeply　moved　by　the　old　man’s　monologue；　it　beat　on　his　heart　like　a　war　drum；　persistent　and　painful。　The　inhabitants　of　the　grassland　were　far　ahead　of　any　race　of　farmers　not　only　in　terms　of　battle　strategies　and　strength　of　character　but　in　their　modes　of　thought　as　well。　This　ancient　logic　went　to　the　core　of　why；　over　millennia；　there　has　been　constant　and　violent　conflict　between　the　carnivores　and　the　herbivores。　The　old　man　had　delivered　his　monologue　as　if　he　were　standing　on　the　Mongol　plateau　and　looking　down　on　the　plains　of　Northern　China：　manding；　wolf　fangs　bared；　forceful　and　reso—nant；　pointed　and　convincing。　Chen；　who　had　been　a　skilled　debater；　could　say　nothing。　Much　of　his　worldview；　based　on　the　Han　agrarian　culture；　crumbled　in　the　face　of　the　logic　and　the　culture　of　the　grassland。　The　nomadic　inhabitants　safeguarded　the　“big　life”—the　survival　of　the　grassland　and　of　nature　were　more　precious　than　the　survival　of　people。　Tillers　of　the　land；　on　the　other　hand；　safeguarded　“little　lives”—the　most　precious　of　which　were　people；　their　survival　the　most　important。　But；　as　Bilgee　had　said；　without　the　big　life；　the　little　lives　were　doomed。　Chen　repeated　this　over　and　over；　and　it　pained　him　somewhat。　But　then　he　was　reminded　of　the　　large…　scale　slaughter　of　tillers　of　the　land　by　nomads　throughout　history；　and　the　actions　they　took　to　return　crop—lands　to　pastureland；　and　the　doubts　returned。　He’d　always　considered　these　actions　to　be　backward；　regressive；　and　barbaric。　But　he　was　forced　to　reconsider　his　position　after　being　scolded　by　the　old　man；　who　had　employed　the　yardstick　of　big　and　little　life。　Both　Easterners　and　West—erners　all　refer　to　the　land　as　the　mother　of　humanity。　How　then　can　anyone　who　does　injury　to　Mother　Earth　be　considered　civilized？
　　Timidly；　he　asked；　“Then　why　is　it　so　important　for　you　to　free　this　gazelle？”
　　“Gazelles　attract　wolves；”　the　old　man　said。　“Wolves　hunt　the　gazelles；　and　that　makes　for　fewer　losses　of　cows；　sheep；　and　horses。　The　gazelles　also　provide　extra　ine　for　the　herdsmen。　In　fact；　many　Mongols　rely　on　what　they　earn　from　hunting　gazelles　to　build　their　yurts；　get　married；　and　have　children。　Half　of　a　Mongol　is　hunter。　If　we　could　not　hunt；　our　lives　would　be　like　meat　with　no　salt；　tasteless。　We　Mongols　go　crazy　if　we　can’t　hunt；　partly　because　that　safeguards　the　big　life　of　the　grassland。　We　hunt　animals　that　eat　our　grass　many　times　more　than　we　hunt　animals　that　eat　meat。”　He　sighed。　“There　are　so　many　things　you　Chinese　don’t　understand。　You　read　books；　but　what　you　find　in　them　is　false　reasoning。　Chinese　write　their　books　to　advocate　Chinese　causes。　The　Mongols　suffer　because　they　can’t　write　books。　If　you　could　turn　into　a　Mongol　and　write　books　for　us；　that　would　be　wonderful。”
　　Chen　nodded　as　he　thought　back　to　all　the　fairy　tales　he’d　read　as　a　child。　The　“gray　wolves”　were　stupid　creatures；　greedy　and　cruel；　while　foxes　were　clever　and　likable。　Not　until　ing　to　the　grassland　did　he　realize　that　in　nature　there　is　no　wild　animal　that　has　evolved　more　highly　or　more　perfectly　than　the　gray　wolf。　Books；　and　especially　fairy　tales；　he　saw；　often　misled　people。
　　　。。

狼图腾（英文版）3（11）
The　old　man　helped　the　gazelle　to　her　feet　and　nudged　her　out　onto　the　snow；　in　a　spot　where　the　tips　of　a　few　weeds　poked　through　the　surface。　The　hungry　pregnant　gazelle　bent　down　and　gobbled　them　up。　Chen　hurriedly　pulled　up　the　felt。　The　gazelle　took　a　few　wobbly　steps；　spotted　the　tracks　of　other　gazelles；　and　ran　off　toward　the　ridge　with—out　looking　back；　she　quickly　vanished　in　the　mountains。
　　Batu　and　Gasmai　also　brought　up　a　live　animal；　a　　half…　grown　gazelle。　Gasmai　muttered；　“Huolehei；　huolehei”　（Mercy；　mercy）；　as　she　picked　it　up　in　her　arms；　set　it　down　on　the　snowy　ground；　and　sent　it　off　run—ning　toward　the　ridge　with　a　pat　on　its　rump。
　　Chen　gave　Gasmai　a　thumbs…up。　She　laughed　and　said；　“Its　mother　fell　into　a　hole　in　the　snow；　and　it　just　kept　running　around；　not　want—ing　to　leave。　We　had　a　terrible　time　trying　to　catch　it；　until　we　managed　to　hold　it　down　with　our　poles。”
　　The　other　snow　boats　drew　near；　and　the　surviving　gazelles　on　the　snow　lake　eventually　formed　a　small　cluster　that　went　over　the　moun—tain　ridge　and　disappeared。　The　old　man　said；　“Those　animals　have　learned　something　here。　In　the　future；　the　wolves　won’t　be　able　to　bring　them　down。”
　　

狼图腾（英文版）　4（1）
Finally；　the　people　were　able　to　claim　their　　well…deserved　New　Year’s　provisions。　The　freezing　air　over　the　snow　lake　was　be—ing　heavier；　the　snow　on　the　surface　harder。　The　old　man　said　to　the　hunters；　“Tengger　is　urging　us　to　move　quickly。”　So　the　men　ran　to　their　spots；　and　the　hunting　ground　once　again　steamed　with　exuber—ance。　Bilgee　led　Chen　Zhen　to　an　average…　sized　depression　in　the　snow；　where　they　stopped。　“Don’t　look　for　the　largest　depressions；”　he　said；　“because　they　usually　contain　seven　or　eight　suffocated　gazelles；　and　all　that　heat　keeps　them　from　freezing　right　away。　As　the　heat　builds　up　overnight；　the　animals　get　bloated；　their　legs　turn　rigid；　and　the　skin　over　their　abdomens　turns　purple。　As　much　as　half　the　meat　on　them　is　bad　by　the　time　they　finally　freeze。　So　what　you　get　is　a　frozen　gazelle　with　half　its　meat　inedible。　At　the　purchasing　station；　you’ll　get　less　than　half　the　price　of　a　whole　gazelle；　money　for　the　hide　only；　not　a　cent　for　the　meat。　But　rotting　meat　is　the　wolves’　favorite；　and　the　gazelles　buried　here　will　be　on　their　mind　all　winter。　So　we’ll　leave　the　choice　wolf　food　for　the　wolves。”
　　The　old　man　lay　down　on　the　felt　and　thrust　his　hooked　pole　into　the　depression；　which　was　at　least　six　feet　deep。　He　probed　and　probed　until　he　abruptly　jerked　the　pole　upward。　“I’ve　hooked　one；”　he　said　to　Chen。　“Help　me　pull　it　up。”　They　began　raising　the　animal；　dropping　it　back　a　little　between　pulls　to　let　the　displaced　snow　fill　the　gap　beneath　it。　They　stood　on　the　felt；　bending　over　to　pull　the　pole　up；　before　long；　the　　snow…covered　head　of　a　dead　gazelle　broke　the　surface。　The　hook　had　caught　the　animal　in　the　throat；　which　preserved　the　integrity　of　the　hide。　Chen　bent　over；　grabbed　the　gazelle　（which　weighed　fi　fty　or　sixty　kilos）　by　the　head；　and　pulled　it　onto　the　felt。　It　was　pletely　frozen；　its　abdomen　neither　distended　nor　purple；　it　had　died　and　fro—zen　quickly。　“A　perfect　specimen；”　the　old　man　said。　“It’ll　bring　the　highest　price。”
　　“There　are　more　down　there；”　he　said；　taking　a　deep　breath。　“You　try　to　snag　one。　It’s　like　hooking　a　bucket　at　the　bottom　of　a　well。　When　you’ve　found　the　right　spot；　pull　with　all　your　might。　Don’t　hook　it　where　you’ll　spoil　the　pelt　and　lower　the　price。”　Chen　agreed　eagerly；　took　the　pole；　thrust　it　into　the　depression；　and　began　to　probe。　He　could　feel　two　or　more　gazelles　down　there　but　kept　moving　the　pole　around　to　outline　the　shape　of　one　of　them。　When　he　felt　the　throat；　he　jerked　the　pole　upward　until　it　felt　well　snagged。　At　long　last；　Chen　had　caught　a　“big　fish”　in　a　snow　lake　on　the　Mongolian　grassland。　It　too　weighed　in　at　fifty　or　sixty　kilos；　a　quarry　that　could　outrun　even　the　fastest　horse。　Filled　with　excitement；　he　shouted　to　Yang　Ke；　who　was　still　on　the　lakeshore；　“Look；　I　caught　one；　a　great　big　one！　It　was　quite　a　fight！”
　　“e　back　here；　would　you？”　Yang　Ke　replied；　fit　to　be　tied。　“e　back　and　let　me　have　a　shot　at　it！　And　let　Papa　get　some　rest。”
　　

狼图腾（英文版）　4（2）
Excited　shouts　rose　on　the　lake　and　on　the　slope　as　large　gazelles　with　plenty　of　meat　and　unbroken　hides　were　brought　to　the　surface　and；　one　after　the　other；　snow　rafts　sped　to　the　shore。　Some　of　the　fast—est　workers　were　already　out　on　their　second　voyage。　The　raft　manned　by　Batu；　Gasmai；　and　Lamjav　was　the　most　efficient。　They　snagged　the　largest　gazelles　unerringly　and　with　amazing　speed。　When　they　pulled　up　medium　or　small…sized　animals；　or　full…grown　ones　with　distended　or　purple　abdomens；　those　that　would　not　bring　in　good　prices；　they　tossed　them　back　down　into　the　empty　depression。　A　rich　harvest；　nor—mally　only　seen　in　the　springtime；　when　baby　lambs　are　born；　spread　across　the　barren；　snowy　plateau。　Even　predators　sometimes　turn　into　prey；　Chen　thought　with　grim　satisfaction。
　　Chen　and　the　old　man　sailed　their　raft；　now　weighted　down　with　two　large　gazelles；　back　to　shore；　where　Yang　Ke　and　Bayar　helped　Bil—gee　step　off。　Chen　pushed　the　two　gazelles　off　the　raft；　and　the　four　men　dragged　them　over　to　their　carts。　There　Chen　discovered　that　the　two　carts　were　already　piled　high　with　large　gazelles；　and　asked　why　that　was。　Yang　Ke　said；　“Bayar　and　I　bagged　one　of　them。　The　rest　are　gifts　from　some　of　the　other　families。　An　Olonbulag　custom；　they　said。”　He　laughed。　“Hanging　around　Papa　has　brought　dividends。”
　　Bilgee　joined　in　the　laughter。　“You’re　citizens　of　the　grassland　too；”　he　said。　“So　learn　our　customs　and　stick　to　them。”　The　old　man；　clearly　tired；　sat　cross…legged　alongside　the　cart　to　smoke　his　pipe。　“You　two　go　out；”　he　said；　“but　be　careful。　If　you　happen　to　fall　in；　spread　your　legs　and　stick　out　your　arms　immediately；　and　hold　your　breath。　That　way　you　won’t　be　in　too　deep。　Whoever’s　on　the　raft；　stick　in　the　pole；　but　be　careful　not　to　hook　the　person　in　the　face。　That　will　ruin　your　mar—riage　prospects。”　He　choked　on　his　laughter。　Then　he　told　Bayar　to　find　some　kindling　for　a　cook　fi　re。
　　Bursting　with　excitement；　Chen　and　Yang　walked　over　to　the　felt　raft；　and　as　they　neared　the　deep　snow　by　the　shore；　Chen　spotted　a　hole　that　looked　like　a　tunnel　to　the　depths　of　the　snow　lake。　Yang　Ke　said　with　a　laugh；　“I　didn’t　want　to　say　anything　a　moment　ago；　because　Papa　was　there　beside　us；　but　this　hole　in　the　snow；　Bayar　and　I　dug　it；　it’s　where　we　found　that　big　gazelle。　I　tell　you；　that　Bayar　may　be　small；　but　he’s　got　guts。　When　he　saw　you　out　there；　he　opened　his　fur　coat　and；　because　he　weighs　so　little；　crawled　out　on　the　snow　without　fall—ing　in。　He　found　a　depression　before　he’d　gone　more　than　five　or　six　yards；　so　he　crawled　back　and　we　dug　a　tunnel　in　the　snow。　We　didn’t　have　to　dig　far　to　reach　the　gazelle；　so　he　went　down　and　tied　a　rope　around　one　of　its　legs。　When　he　came　back；　I　pulled　the　animal　out　of　the　snow。　He　was　fearless；　but　the　whole　time　he　was　down　there　I　was　worried　the　snow　might　cave　in　and　bury　him。”
　　“That　doesn’t　surprise　me；”　Chen　said。　“Anyone　who　isn’t　afraid　to　grab　hold　of　a　wolf　with　his　bare　hands　isn’t　going　to　be　scared　by　a　hole　in　the　snow。　Now