Later that night, Bilgee came to check on their battle readiness. He sat with them and silently smoked a pipe. “The horses are going to suffer again when the mosquitoes come in a few days,” he said softly, as if to console them. “If we spare the wolves, we won’t have many ponies left this year, and that won’t please Tengger either.”
“Do you think the mother wolf will come tonight, Papa?” Yang Ke asked.
“Hard to say. I’ve never seen anything as ruthless as luring a mother wolf with a cub raised by humans. Never heard of it either. But Director Bao has ordered us to use him as bait. So many foals died that we’re forced to let him and the horse herders kill a few wolves to vent their anger.”
The old man left and the pasture was quiet, except for the sheep chewing their cud and the occasional flicking sounds of their ears as they tried to drive away the mosquitoes. The first swarms had come quietly, without fanfare, but only a small squadron of recon aircraft; the heavy bombers hadn’t yet appeared.
The men chatted softly some more before turning in. Chen went to bed first, while Yang, staring at his night-glow wristwatch and gripping the large flashlight, kept a watchful eye on the area, his firecracker-stuffed book bag hanging from his neck.
After finishing the horsemeat, the cub sat at the edge of his pen waiting expectantly, stretching the chain taut and pricking up his ears, focused on sounds he longed to hear. His shiny eyes seemed to ears, focused on sounds he longed to hear. His shiny eyes seemed to pierce the mountain ridge; he looked as sad as an orphan yearning for his kin.
The howls came soon after midnight, as the wolves launched a bombardment of noise: a relentless howling from three sides, intended to wear the enemy down. The dogs immediately counterattacked, responding with loud barks. The howling stopped, but it started up again as soon as the dogs went quiet, this time more ferocious than ever. After several rounds, the dogs barked only intermittently, as if there were no immediate danger and also to conserve their voices for a real war.
Chen Zhen and Yang Ke quickly walked up to observe the cub in the faint starlight. The clanging of the chain sounded in the pen as he circled anxiously. When he tried to imitate the howl, he was drowned out by the barking dogs, so he started to bark like a dog, since Erlang, Yellow, and Yir were nearby. Part bark, part howl, his voice was having trouble finding its own way. Erlang led the other dogs, nervously running back and forth on the northwestern edge of the sheep flock, barking constantly, as if they’d discovered the enemy’s whereabouts. Soon wolf howls were heard from that direction, seeming much closer to Chen’s flock. Dogs from other teams gradually stopped barking, as the wolf pack seemed to be gathering in the hills behind Chen’s yurt. His lips quivering, Chen said softly, “The main force is directed here, where the cub is. Wolves truly never forget.”
Beginning to grow frightened, Yang gripped his flashlight tightly and felt for the firecrackers in his book bag to reassure himself. “If they concentrate their attack on us, I won’t hold back. I’ll throw these at the pack, and you signal with the flashlight.”
The dogs finally stopped barking. Chen whispered to Yang, “Crouch down and watch the cub. He’s going to howl.”
With no interference from the dogs, the cub listened to the howls from the wild. He stuck out his chest, pricked up his ears, and closed his eyes. He’d learned to listen carefully before trying to imitate the sound. The howls were aimed at him, and he was anxiously trying to identify the source, turning his head toward the sound. He began running around, since the howls came from three sides.
By listening carefully, Chen detected a difference in that night’s howls. The night before, they had been more unified, as if to harass the humans, but now there were variations, some high, others low, like questioning, testing, even perhaps a mother wolf calling out to her cub. Chills ran through his body as he listened.
There were many stories about the love of a mother wolf for her cubs. In order to teach them to hunt, she’d take great risks to catch a live lamb under daunting circumstances; in order to protect her cubs in the den, she’d fight hunters to the death; for the cubs’ safety, she’d carry them to a different place each night; and to feed them, she’d gorge herself to the point of bursting, and then empty the contents for them. And, in the interest of the pack, females who had lost their cubs nursed others’ cubs.
Bilgee had told them that hunters and horse herders never took every cub in a den after a kill. The remaining cubs would have plenty of wet nurses and would grow strong with all that milk, which is why Mongolian wolves were the biggest, the strongest, and the smartest of all the wolves on earth. Chen had felt like adding, “And that’s not all. A mother wolf’s love can extend to human orphans even though humans are their chief enemies.”
At that instant, he felt the urge to untie the leather collar and let the cub be reunited with his mother, along with all the other mothers. But he didn’t dare. He was worried that, once the cub left the area under the camp’s control, his own and the neighbors’ dogs would tear it to pieces. And he didn’t dare take him into the darkness to set him free, for that would place him in the midst of the frenzied mother wolves.
The cub seemed to detect the differences in the howls but did not know what to do about the sounds coming from all directions. Obviously, he did not comprehend the nuanced differences in the varying howls, nor did he know how to respond. The howls slowly died down, after failing to receive any response. They were probably puzzled by the cub’s silence.
At that moment, the cub steadied himself, faced northwest, and lowered his head as he made the first tentative noise. Then he breathed in, raised his head, and sent out the second tone. Eventually he managed a howl, though it was slightly off. The distant howls stopped abruptly. What was that sound? The wolf pack waited.
A moment later, a sound echoing the cub’s emerged from the pack, perhaps from a young wolf. Chen could tell that the cub was puzzled; he didn’t understand the question being asked. Like a deaf mute who has regained his hearing and voice, he couldn’t tell what was being said and was therefore unable to express himself.
After getting no further response, the cub lowered his head and breathed in deeply, then raised his head and released a long sound. This time he reached the heights of the night before. Obviously happy with his effort, he released one long howl after another without waiting for a response from the pack.
Led by Erlang, the dogs directed their ferocious barking to the northwest, and when they stopped, the cub began to howl again. Little by little, he learned to ignore the dogs’ interference and skillfully and accurately produce wolf howls. After five or six in a row, he stopped and ran over to the water bowl, where he drank before running back to the same spot to howl again. He stopped after a moment and pricked up his ears to listen.
There was a long silence, and then a deep, somber howl arose on the western slope. Short and with distinct intonation, it was a sound with authority, probably an alpha male. From it, Chen could envision the animal’s powerful body, broad chest, wide back, and full throat.
Surprised at first, the cub then leaped joyfully into the air. After lowering his head to breathe in, he stopped, not knowing how to respond. So he tried imitating the howl he’d just heard. His voice was obviously young, but it was a good imitation. He repeated it several times but drew no response.