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狼圖騰（英文版） 1（1）
As Chen Zhen looked through the telescope from his hiding place in the snow cave； he saw the steely gaze of a Mongolian grassland wolf。 The fine hairs on his body rose up like porcupine quills； virtually pulling his shirt away from his skin。 Old Man Bilgee was there beside him。 This time Chen did not feel as if his soul had been driven out of his body； but sweat oozed from his pores。 He had been on the grassland two years but still had not lost his fear of Mongolian wolves； especially in packs。 Now he was face to face with a large pack deep in the mountains； far from camp； his misty breath quivering in the air。 Neither he nor Bilgee was armed—no rifles； no knives； no lasso poles； not even something as simple as a pair of metal stirrups。 All they had were two herding clubs； and if the wolves picked up their scent； their sky burial would e early。
Chen exhaled nervously as he turned to look at the old man； who was watching the wolf encirclement through the other telescope。 “You’re going to need more courage than that；” Bilgee said softly。 “You’re like a sheep。 A fear of wolves is in your Chinese bones。 That’s the only expla—nation for why you people have never won a fight out here。” Getting no response； he leaned over and whispered； “Get a grip on yourself。 If they spot any movement from us； we’ll be in real trouble。” Chen nodded and scooped up a handful of snow； which he squeezed into a ball of ice。
The herd of Mongolian gazelles was grazing on a nearby slope； unaware of the wolf pack； which was tightening the noose； drawing closer to the men’s snow cave。 Not daring to move； Chen felt frozen in place； like an ice sculpture。 This was Chen’s second encounter with a wolf pack since ing to the grassland。 A palpitating fear from his first
