Chen decided he’d take them to the northwesternmost corner of the pasture, where there was poor sandy soil and little grass. It was also a good place to avoid the mosquitoes and graze the horses, but it was near the border and the herders never took their horses there. Chen hoped that the soldiers would be able to see wolves that could then easily cross the border and escape.
Bao considered the suggestion. He smiled and said, “You may be right. Why didn’t I think of that? Old Liu, head north. That’s where we’ll go today, so step on it.”
Chen added, “It’ll be better to walk if we want to kill wolves. These vehicles make too much noise, and the wolves will run into the grass when they hear us. We’ve had lots of rain this year, and the grass is tall, which makes it easy for them to hide.”
Staff Officer Xu said, “You just find the wolves, and leave the rest to me.”
Chen felt he’d made a serious mistake.
They sped northwest, following an ancient dirt path created by herders making seasonable moves from pasture to pasture. Autumn grass had grown back on the lamb-birthing pasture, which had been grazed barren by livestock in the spring; the dense grass, roiling like waves, was dotted with swaying daisies. A strong fragrance typical of fine grass filled their noses. A few purple swallows followed to eat moths and other insects stirred up by the vehicles, but they quickly fell behind, only to be replaced by new ones, creating one purple arc after another.
Chen breathed in the intoxicating aroma of autumn grass and flowers. This was where they would come back for lamb birthing. Seventy percent of the pasture’s income came from the sale of wool and sheep, so the birthing pasture was a precious place, the source of life. He paid close attention along the way and saw there was excellent grass, almost like a carefully tended wheat field. Not a single yurt had been put down here since the production team moved to the summer pasture. He felt a sense of gratitude toward the wolves and the horse herders. An enticing, fragrant pasture would have been ruined by gazelles, wild rabbits, and mice but for the wolves.
Everything Chen saw in the lush panorama contributed to the hardships endured by the horse herders, who, in spite of the heat and mosquitoes, had worked day and night to check the appetites of their gluttonous charges by taking them to a hilly pasture to graze on second-rate, goatee-like grass, or grass left behind by the cattle and sheep. They’d never let their horses near the birthing pasture. While they loved their horses as much as their own lives, when it came to grazing, they treated them like thieves or locusts. If not for them, this pasture, the source of life, would have been left with nothing but horse droppings from poorly digested grass and clumps of dead grass burned by animal urine. How could soldiers from agricultural areas understand all that?
These thoughts made it impossible for Chen to hold back. “See how well protected the pasture is?” he said to Staff Officer Xu. “When the brigade came here for the spring birthing of lambs, tens of thousands of gazelles had stormed over from Outer Mongolia. We couldn’t chase them away, even with rifles. If they ran off during the day, they returned at night to fight over grass with the birthing ewes. Luckily the wolves came and, in a matter of days, the gazelles were gone. If not for the wolves, there’d have been no grass for the ewes and no milk for the newborn lambs; we’d have lost tens of thousands of lambs. Husbandry is different from agriculture. When there’s a disaster, the most a farmer will suffer is a year’s crops, but a disaster out here can mean the loss of eight or ten years, even as much as a herder’s lifetime income.”
Xu nodded, though his hawklike eyes continued searching the grassland. After a while, he said, “How could you have relied on wolves to kill the gazelles? That’s so backward. The herdsmen have inferior rifles and marksmanship, and no trucks. Watch us next spring. We’ll use motor vehicles, assault rifles, and machine guns. No gazelles will be our match, no matter how many there are. I’ve hunted them out west. The best way is to turn on the headlights at night; they’re afraid of the dark, so they crowd around the light. Then keep driving and fire as you go. You can kill hundreds of them in a single night. So you have gazelle here. That’s great. The more the better. The people at division headquarters and the agricultural corps will have meat now.”
“Look!” Bao Shungui called out softly, pointing to his left.
Chen looked through his telescope and said, “A fox. Let’s get it.”
Bao observed it carefully. “Yes,” he said, disappointed. “It’s only a fox. Forget it.” Then he turned to Xu, who had his rifle up. “Don’t shoot. Wolves have keen ears. We’ll go home empty-handed if you startle them.”
“This is our lucky day,” Xu said happily. “Where there are foxes, there are wolves.”
The closer they got to the sandy pasture, the more wildlife they saw: sand swallows, sand grouses, desert foxes, and sand mice. Rusty red sand grouses were the most common; they flew in large flocks, their feathers making the sound of pigeon whistles. Pointing at the gentle ridge in the distance, Chen said, “The sandy area is just over that ridge. The older herders say there used to be a big pasture with a spring here. But many years ago, the Olonbulag suffered a terrible drought, which dried up the lakes, the rivers, and the wells, all but that spring. So the livestock was driven here for water. From dawn to dusk, large numbers of animals were lined up, stomping and grazing the grass. It took less than two years for the pasture to turn to sand. Luckily, the spring didn’t dry up, and the grass slowly returned. But we’ll have to wait decades before it returns to its original condition. The grassland is so fragile that it turns to desert whenever it exceeds its capacity.”
Squeaking mice scampered away from the wheels. “The capacity includes those mice,” Chen said. “The destruction they cause is worse than livestock. Wolves are the main reason the grassland isn’t overburdened. If you kill a wolf, I’ll open its belly and show you its contents. During this season, you’ll find mainly mice and field mice.”
“I didn’t know that wolves eat mice,” Xu said.
“The cub I’m raising loves them. He swallows them tails and all. The grassland never experiences a scourge of mice because the herdsmen don’t kill all the wolves. If you do that now, the mice will run wild, and that will spell disaster for the grassland-”
Bao cut him off. “Pay attention and keep your eye out for wolves.”
As they neared the ridge, Staff Officer Xu tensed. He checked the lay of the land and told the driver to head west. “If there are wolves here, we can’t go right in. We’ll have to take the sentry wolves first.”
They entered a gentle ravine that ran east to west. The narrow oxcart path was flanked by mountains on the left and sandy hills on the right. Looking through his high-powered binoculars, Xu searched the grassy land on both sides and whispered, “Two wolves on the hill to the right.” He spun around to signal the vehicle behind. Chen saw the wolves too, big ones, trotting westward, three or four li away.
“Don’t go over there,” Xu said to Old Liu. “We’ll follow the dirt path and maintain speed. See if you can drive parallel with the wolves so I can get a side shot.”
“Got it.” Old Liu turned in the direction of the wolf at a slightly faster speed.
The man obviously had combat experience. Going at the wolf like that not only shortened the distance but also gave the wolves the illusion that they were just passing by, not going for them. The border station patrol cars followed strict rules that prohibited the soldiers from firing except under extraordinary circumstances, which helped keep their presence secret and gave them the element of surprise. As a result, the wolves had grown accustomed to the presence of motor vehicles in the area.