Chen felt himself to be standing at the mouth of a tunnel to five thousand years of Chinese history. Every day and every night, he thought, men have fought wolves on the Mongolian plateau, a minor skirmish here, a pitched battle there. The frequency of these clashes has even surpassed the frequency of battles among all the nomadic peoples of the West outside of wolf and man, plus the cruel, protracted wars between nomadic tribes, conflicts between nationalities, and wars of aggression; it is that frequency that has strengthened and advanced the mastery of the combatants in these battles. The grassland people are better and more knowledgeable fighters than any farming race of people or nomadic tribe in the world. In the history of China-from the Zhou dynasty, through the Warring States, and on to the Qin, Han, Tang, and Song dynasties-all those great agrarian societies, with their large populations and superior strength, were often crushed in combat with minor nomadic tribes, suffering catastrophic and humiliating defeat. At the end of the Song dynasty, the Mongol hordes of Genghis Khan invaded the Central Plains and remained in power for nearly a century. China’s last feudal dynasty, the Qing, was itself founded by nomads. The Han race, with its ties to the land, has gone without the superior military teachings of a wolf drillmaster and has been deprived of constant rigorous training exercises. The ancient Chinese had their Sun-tzu and his military treatise, but that was on paper. Besides, even they were based in part on the lupine arts of war.
Millions of Chinese died at the hands of invasions by peoples of the North over thousands of years, and Chen felt as if he’d found the source of that sad history. Relationships among the creatures on earth have dictated the course of history and of fate, he thought. The military talents of a people in protecting their homes and their nation are essential to their founding and their survival. If there had been no wolves on the Mongolian grassland, would China and the world be different than they are today?
Suddenly, everyone was running and shouting, startling Chen out of his thoughts. He jumped into the saddle and followed the crowd.
Two dead wolves had been excavated, part of the cost of driving the horses onto the lake. Chen went up near one of them as Batu and Laasurung swept snow off one of the carcasses and described the suicidal belly-ripping battle. The wolf was slimmer than most, a female. The rear half of her body had been battered bloody by horse hooves, but her teats were still visible.
“What a shame,” Bilgee said. “Her cubs were stolen from their den, that’s for sure. She and the other mothers who had lost their offspring called this pack together to get their revenge. For her, there was no reason to go on living. On the grassland it’s not a good idea to overdo anything. A cornered rabbit will try to bite a wolf, so how could a frantic female wolf not fight to the death?”
Chen turned to some of the students. “History books tell us that wolves have strong maternal instincts,” he said. “There are recorded instances of wolves raising human children. The ancestors of the Huns, the Gaoju, and the Turks were wolf children, all raised by wolf mothers.”
“What’s all this nonsense about wolf children?” Bao Shungui interrupted. “Wolves kill and eat humans; they don’t raise them as their own. For people and wolves, it’s a life-or-death relationship-you or me. I’m the one who ordered people out to snatch the wolf cubs. In years past, it was an annual hunt that kept tragic encounters with wolves at a minimum, a fine tradition. But keeping them at a minimum isn’t enough; we need to wipe them off the face of the earth! Let them get their revenge? We’ll see how they do after I’ve killed them all! I’m not going to rescind my order. Once this business is cleared up, I’m sending the people out again. Every two families will be responsible for one wolf-cub pelt, and if they can’t manage that, they can substitute an adult pelt. Otherwise I’ll deduct work points!”
Bao took a picture of the dead wolf, then had the carcass loaded onto a cart.
The men then moved to the second wolf. In his two years on the grassland, Chen had seen lots of wolves, alive and dead, and plenty of wolf pelts, but nothing like the animal that lay at his feet. Its head was nearly as big as a leopard’s, its chest even broader. Once the snow had been swept away and its grayish yellow fur fully exposed, Chen noticed countless thick, black, needle-like hairs poking up through the yellow fur on the neck and down its back. The rear half of the torso had been kicked bloody by horse hooves, leaving a puddle of red ice on the ground.
Batu pushed the frozen animal, but did not succeed in moving it. “This one wasn’t as smart as the others,” he said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “It didn’t get a good bite on its target. If it had, big as this head is, it would easily have ripped open a horse’s belly and then tumbled to the ground and gotten away without injury. It might have inadvertently clamped onto a bone. Served it right!”
Bilgee squatted down and studied the animal, pulling back the fur on its neck to reveal a pair of bloody holes as thick as two fingers. The students were astounded. They’d seen holes like that before, on the necks of the sheep taken down by wolves, two on each side, the marks of four wolf fangs across the carotid arteries.
“This wolf didn’t die from being kicked by a horse,” Bilgee said. “Mortally wounded, maybe, but it was killed by another wolf after it had eaten its fill of horseflesh.”
“Wolves are worse than outlaws!” Bao Shungui cursed. “They even kill their own wounded!”
Bilgee glared at Bao. “Dead outlaws don’t go up to heaven. Dead wolves do. This wolf was mortally wounded by a horse. It didn’t die right away, but it had no chance of living. What’s better, hanging on and suffering, or dying? A live wolf suffers from seeing one of its own like this, so it puts it out of its misery, releasing its soul to Tengger. That’s an act of mercy, not cruelty, and a means of keeping the dying animal out of human hands and certain humiliating treatment. Wolves are unyielding creatures. They’d rather die than suffer humiliation. And an alpha male won’t let that happen to a member of his pack. You come from a farming community. How many of you would choose death over indignity? Old-timers out here tear up when they ponder this aspect of the wolf’s nature.”
Seeing a look of displeasure on Bao’s face, Uljii said, “Have you ever wondered why these wolves are such excellent fighters? One important factor is that the alpha male won’t hesitate to kill one of his wounded comrades, lightening the burden on the pack and ensuring the continued effectiveness of all the troops. If you understand this trait, you’ll do a better job of evaluating the situation in a fight with wolves.”
Bao nodded. “You may be right,” he said. “Wounded troops require stretcher bearers, medics, guards, nurses, and doctors. And you need ambulances and aid stations. I was a rear echelon soldier for many years, and we calculated that a single wounded soldier required the services of at least a dozen people. During wartime, this support staff affects combat effectiveness. Seen in that light, wolves are more flexible. But many wounded soldiers are courageous fighters, and when their wounds have healed, they’re often the backbone of their unit. Won’t killing your wounded hurt your combat effectiveness?”
Uljii sighed. “Of course there are explanations for this behavior. To begin with, wolves have a high birthrate. A female wolf can produce seven or eight, sometimes a dozen or more, cubs in one litter. And the survival rate is high. One autumn I saw a female with eleven youngsters, born that spring. They were nearly as big as their mother and could run as fast. The females among them would begin having their own young in a couple of years. Cows are born at the rate of five every three years. How many female wolves do you think are born in that same period? A whole squad of them. And wolves are combat ready when they’re a year old. By the second spring, they’re mature, fully competent animals. A dog at one year can hunt rabbits, a wolf at that age can hunt sheep, and a one-year-old child is still in diapers. Humans are outmatched. With all those troops at their disposal, of course they kill their wounded. As I see it, wolves kill their own because it’s a natural form of population control. Culling troops ensures that the pack will include only crack fighters. That, in essence, is how they’ve maintained their grassland dominance for centuries.”