Using sound alone, he moved closer to Bilgee. “Papa,” he said softly, “can I turn my flashlight on inside my sleeve? I’m not sure I still have eyes.”
“Don’t even think that!” The old man chastened him in a low voice that betrayed a prebattle case of nerves and a measure of concern.
Chen didn’t reply but continued on blindly, accompanied by the clip-clop of his horse’s hooves.
The hunting party moved quietly through the night. Wolves are superb night fighters, but grasslanders are also adept at surprise night attacks. Chen sensed that they were up against an uncommon pack of wolves; even with hunger gnawing at them, they had waited for a pitch-black night to emerge in full force. The looming battle was unfolding in accordance with Bilgee’s unusual prediction and in ways for which the old man had planned. Knowing he was about to participate in a contest acted out on the primitive grassland between a pair of wolf kings, Chen was exhilarated.
After negotiating a gentle downslope, the hunting party began riding up a much steeper one. Bilgee rode up next to Chen Zhen, covered his mouth with his sleeve, and said in a more relaxed voice, “You need to train your ears if you want to become a decent hunter. Wolves’ hearing is even keener than their vision.”
Chen also covered his mouth with his sleeve and asked, “Aren’t you afraid the wolves will hear us now?”
The old man whispered, “We’re on a mountain slope, and the sound can’t travel to the other side. There’s also a headwind, so we’re safe if we keep our voices down.”
“Papa,” Chen asked, “can you really lead us to the appointed spot by hearing alone?”
“No,” the old man replied. “Memory is the other factor. I listen to my horses’ hooves to see what kind of ground we’re on, if it’s sandy or rocky under the snow, and I can tell where we are. And to keep from losing my way, I feel how the wind is hitting my face. I also smell things. In other words, I travel with the wind and the smells. The wind carries smells of snow, grass, sand, saltpeter, alkali, wolves, foxes, horse dung, and the camp. Sometimes there are no odors at all, and then I have to rely on my ears and my memory. Your Papa could find the way if the night turned even darker.”
Chen sighed. “How long will it take me to learn how to do all that, Papa?” he asked.
They crossed the peak and moved down onto a flat, vast grazing area, where Bilgee picked up the pace; the others followed, quickly and quietly. The riders felt like a well-trained cavalry unit on a mission, while in fact they were a ragtag group brought together at a moment’s notice, one that included some of the old, the weak, women, and children.
The tension increased as they neared their appointed spot. It had not been long since the wolf pack had taken the first round with its stunning annihilation of the herd of warhorses; now, as the Olonbulag grasslanders were about to throw everything they had against the enemy, whether or not they would even the score was still in doubt. Chen began to worry that launching a surprise attack and an encirclement array against the wolves, with their superior sense of smell, and at night-their favorite time to fight-was like an apprentice showing off before his master. In the past, large-scale hunts had been organized yearly, and had always ended with no more than partial success, half the encirclements coming up empty. The head of the transport section had said sarcastically, “Encirclement hunt, encirclement hunt, a donkey with one ball, always wide of the mark.”
Given the disastrous slaughter of the warhorses, if the hunt fell short this time, the pasture leadership would likely be replaced. Headquarters personnel had said that their superiors were preparing to transfer officials from communes that had enjoyed success in killing off wolves to reinforce the Olonbulag leadership. That was why Uljii, Bilgee, and the horse herders were determined to crush the arrogance of the Olonbulag wolf pack. At the mobilization meeting, Bilgee had said, “This time we’d better be prepared to deliver at least a dozen pelts of big wolves. If we don’t, we might as well bring in hunters from other communes to run things here.”
The night was getting darker, and colder. The oppressive frigid air and encompassing darkness nearly took their breath away. Yang Ke rode up to Chen Zhen and whispered in his ear, “When we spread out, the gaps between us will be so big that we won’t be able to see the wolves when they slip past our horses’ hooves. I wonder what Bilgee has up his sleeve.” Yang stuck his head up his wide sleeve to check the time on his luminescent wristwatch. “We’ve been on the road for more than two hours,” he said. “About time to split up, don’t you think?”
Chen leaned over and stuck his face up Yang’s sleeve until he could read the dial on the old Swiss watch. He rubbed his eyes as his fears grew.
Suddenly, a chilled fragrance wafted over on the wind. It was the sweet medicinal smell of artemisia, a strong, cold, refreshing smell. As soon as the horses stepped on the thick artemisia, Bilgee reined in his horse. So did the others. The old man and the heads of the production teams behind him, as well as the hunters in the party, exchanged whispered comments, and the line began to spread out in both directions. A column of more than a hundred riders was quickly transformed into a straight rank of evenly spaced fighters. The sound of horse hooves stretched far and eventually died out. Chen Zhen stayed close to the old man.
All of a sudden, Chen was blinded by a light. A beam from Bilgee’s flashlight tore through the darkness and was answered by lights from both directions. The old man swung his light three times, and the distant lights forwarded the signal up and down the line.
Then the old man’s dry, shrill voice broke the silence: “Wu-hu-”
The sound echoed and splintered, and within seconds was answered: “Wu-hu-” “Yi-hu-” “Ah-hu-”
Male voices, female voices, old voices, youthful voices, all merging together. The calls from the nearest group, Gasmai’s Mongolian women’s unit, were loud and crisp, ranged from high to low, and hung in the air a long time. Her calls were especially resonant as all the women and all the men in the brigade shouted as if they were on night watch in order to frighten and trick the wolves; the sound rumbled through the night, wave after wave pressing toward the northwest.
At the same time, more than a hundred dogs strained at their leashes and filled the air with frenzied barking, thundering through the sky.
In the wake of the sound war, the opening salvos of a light war commenced, with beams from all sorts of flashlights sweeping the northwestern darkness. The inky-black, snow-covered ground suddenly reflected countless beams of cold light, creating a scene more awesome and more fearsome than a flash of swords slicing through the frigid air.
Waves of sound and beams of light filled the gaps between the people and the dogs. The humans, the horses, the dogs, the sounds, and the lights formed a loose but effective, powerful, and dynamic net spreading over the wolf pack.
Chen Zhen, Yang Ke, and all the other Beijing students were so excited by the extraordinary scene that they whooped and hollered and gestured wildly. The people’s morale soared, their voices rocked the heavens. Chen was now able to see where he was. It was a spot just south of the site of the horse massacre. Bilgee had unerringly led the party to the northeastern edge of the great lake, where they had then fanned out to form a net. Before he knew it, men, horses, and dogs had all skirted the lake and, with amazing speed, set up an encirclement on its northern edge.
Bilgee whipped his horse as he galloped down the line of hunters, anxiously searching the ground with his light for tracks in the snow as he inspected the formation, moving people when necessary. Chen followed close behind him. The old man reined in his horse. “The pack passed by here not long ago. A lot of them. See those tracks? They’re fresh. It looks like we’ll get them this time, and all these people won’t have frozen out here for nothing.”