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 b