Excerpts from the text |
The man's voice was as endless as the river, and I don't know where he came from. His voice was sometimes low and mournful, like the ancient sound of the chaoer, sometimes vigorous and bright, like an eagle chirping in the sky. I asked him in amazement, how can there be such a sound in the world, what is it called, and how do you make it? He laughed and said that this is called Haolin Chaoer, and the breath violently hits the vocal cords by holding his breath to produce a bass, and through the resonance of the mouth to produce a high note.
Howlin Chaoer
□Anisu
One
For several days, I counted the days in my felt house at the foot of The Budgood Mountain, and the harshest Siberian cold current was coming, and the Siriga steppe would suffer a terrible white plague. The sky is bleak. The thirty horses in the stable, as if smelling danger, restlessly kicked their hooves and made a piercing hiss. I rode on a yellow horse and led the black dog around the endless pasture. The owner of the herd, Uyathai, went far away and explained before leaving that he must let the herd survive the winter safely. Before I was a horse wrangler in the village of Siriga. Every spring and summer, the villagers put together the few horses in the family and let me graze the cattle alone. They put more thought and experience into the flock. Uyata is the only one who raises only horses and does not raise other livestock. Last winter his herd lost half of his horses. This fall, he walked into my felt room and said, my Anda, help me take care of the horses. I understood his pain, and even more distressed about his horses, so I readily agreed to his request. Besides, he will not be able to return until next spring.
Uyathai walked on a white horse. He doesn't have a dog. The Yellow Horse and the Black Dog were my two Anda for many years. I have been living alone for thirty years since I was eighteen years old. At the foot of a distant mountain, the bones of my Abba Eji were buried, the bones of two yellow horses and two black dogs. For thirty years, I hadn't tended my herds in winter. Whenever the harsh winter came, in addition to feeding the yellow horses and black dogs, I hid in the mud houses of the village of Siriga, waiting for the arrival of warm spring. I'm not a boring person. That was probably more than twenty years ago, when I was herding horses by the river, I met a wandering man. He was going north to find his family. He was so thin that only a skeleton remained, but there was an inviolable majesty on his face. He asked me for food, more like he was giving orders. I gave him dried meat, milk tofu and spirits. After eating and drinking, the man went to the river and said that he would give me something in return. He stood by the river with his hands crossed at his waist, like a rock, and made a strange sound in a distant direction, a sound I had never heard before, not like a sound that a human body could make, but it did come from within his mouth.
The man's voice was as endless as the river, and I don't know where he came from. His voice was sometimes low and mournful, like the ancient sound of the chaoer, sometimes vigorous and bright, like an eagle chirping in the sky. I asked him in amazement, how can there be such a sound in the world, what is it called, and how do you make it? He laughed and said that this is called Haolin Chaoer, and the breath violently hits the vocal cords by holding his breath to produce a bass, and through the resonance of the mouth to produce a high note. After you learn it, you can teach it to more herders to sing. He gave me a demonstration again after he finished. When I wanted to continue asking, he walked in a distant direction. The sound of Haolin Chao'er echoed behind him, and he gradually disappeared into the vast grassland. Those days, I've been learning to sing like him, and occasionally I can make a sound that resembles a bass. I grasped the only similar sound and practiced it repeatedly during the long summer and the short autumn, but I never got the point. Just as I was about to give up, the first snow of winter fell. I led the yellow horse and led the black dog through the snowy field on the way home. I saw in the distance, a few pieces of blurred color standing still in the depths of the snowy field. Approaching, I found that they were several wild horses that looked like hard stones. They were covered in ice ballast and froze to death in the wilderness with their eyes open. They freeze to death and stand. So tragic, so tragic. My heart felt like it had been struck by lightning and was instantly shaken. The yellow horse roared in sorrow, and the black dog barked loudly. In an instant, a fiery fire burned in my body. I actually sent out a howling tide.
The direction Uyathai was walking in was a little vague, and he showed me an unreal world. I spend time on the ranch every day. I can blend in with the villagers and live alone for a long time. When I am alone, I don't feel lonely and even enjoy unique pleasures. I love the smell of charcoal and I like to get up every day and walk out of the felt room, look at the distant skyline, and breathe fresh oxygen. I love listening to Urigel on the radio and walking with my yellow horse and black dog on the prairie. I'm used to it all. Many years ago, my aunt in the city wanted to put me in the city and find me a job in the enterprise. It was my first time in town and it was always easy to get nervous physically and mentally. It's not that the city is bad, it's that I can't adapt. My aunt saw that I was pitiful, so she did not force me to stay. Back in the village of Siriga, I couldn't care less about drinking milk tea, and hurried to see the yellow horses and black dogs that were fostered in the herdsmen's house, and there seemed to be nothing more cordial than them. Time flies, and my way of life can never be changed. Nothing could shake my heart. I became a wrangler.
Two
The sky was overcast, and the snow was slowly falling. The experience of herding horses for many years allowed me to smell danger like a horse. Some terrible breath was approaching, and I was trembling. After feeding the horses, I carefully observed every detail of the stable, found a slight looseness, and immediately reinforced it with iron nails and iron wire. In the quiet of the night, the black dog curled up by the charcoal fire, and I covered my eyes with a thick quilt and closed my eyes. I don't know how long later, the black dog hummed, and I woke up from my sleep. There was a strong wind blowing outside the felt house, and the wind was so loud that it was like a herd of beasts passing through the pasture. It was getting dark, and I got up to rebuild a pile of charcoal, put on thick clothes and walked out of the felt room, where the strong wind almost blew me down. The cold currents in Siberia came with great ferocity. The snow was already half a meter deep, and I struggled into the stable with a shovel. Thirty horses huddled together for warmth. My yellow horse was tethered to another corner. A thick layer of snow had accumulated on the roof of the stable. I shoveled the snow one by one and shoveled a path between the horse shed and the felt house. The wind stopped. Having done all this, I walked wearily into the felt room and collapsed by the charcoal fire.
For the next few days, there was no snow and the pastures took on a mottled landscape. I often slept from the afternoon until midnight. One second half the night, I was awakened by a constant crackling sound. I quickly ran out of the felt room to check on the situation. The roof of the shed collapsed several times, and the horses were in a mess. The cold wind struck again. I put on my gloves and flannel hat, fastened my belt, and quickly entered the fight. The completely frightened herd of horses was trying to jump out of the stable. Suddenly there was a loud bang, the walls of the stable collapsed, and several horses jumped from the gap and fled into the confused night. Then the whole herd fled. Only my yellow horse behaved calmly, and although it was still on the reins, it did not struggle too much. It's waiting for me. Thirty horses soon galloped with the wind. I have never encountered such an urgent situation, but according to the older generation of shepherds, the horses will not stop when they run downwind, and if they cannot turn the situation around in time, they will follow closely until the wind speed drops and then drive the horses back. It was a very tragic labor. Both the horse and the wrangler are a harsh test. I rode on a yellow horse to chase the horses. The horses downwind are extremely fast. At first I could hear their voices, and then the sounds were completely muffled in the wind. The Yellow Horse didn't have to listen to my instructions, it knew what I meant, and it galloped with full force. A bone-chilling cold wind pierced through the gloves and plunged into the flesh. In the desolate and empty pastures of Siriga, my yellow horse ran bravely for hours without showing signs of fatigue. But I was distressed by the yellow horse, and when it was cold, I led the horse into a nearby felt house.
In the felt room lived a family of three and a small yellow dog. I explained my intentions, the man fed my yellow horse grass and drinking water, and the woman brought me hot milk tea and hand-held meat. The men were surprised to hear that I had come to the Uzhigen ranch where they were from the Siriga ranch overnight. The man said to me, you actually ran more than a hundred miles! At night, despite the strong wind, the herdsman family also heard the sound of horses passing by. The little boy nibbled on the bone in his hand and looked at me with a pair of sparkling eyes. Before I could continue my journey to chase the horses, the man gave me a bottle of spirits and some Chaganed. I remembered the tramp I met many years ago, learning his appearance, crossed his hands around his waist, and sang them a haolin chaoer. After years of practice, my Haolin Chao'er did not dare to say that he had reached the level of a tramp, and he had become decent. My voice shook the herdsmen's family. In return, I told them about The Singing Skills of Horin Chao'er. The man also wrote down my words on a hide. I got a short break with the Yellow Horse.
In front of you is a vast wilderness. The direction of the wind is the direction in which the horses disappear. I took a sip of the spirit and continued to chase the wind. I passed a snowless pasture, and the gentle rising sun made me feel a little warm. As a Wrangler, do you have to have such a roughest test in your life? I don't know. On his deathbed, Abba told me that shepherds should not be afraid of any difficulties and should always embrace the earth with the most tender heart. The Yellow Horse walked a long way, and after a brief twilight passed, night was coming. I was a little flustered. Spending the night in the wild in the coldest winter is a mortal danger, and whether I am a yellow horse, it is very likely that I will freeze to death. In a pinch, I saw a pastor shop. It was a summer pasture with a concrete house that would have to be repaired in the future, and a simple horse barn. I tied the yellow horse to the stable, found some hay left by the owner of the rancher to feed it, and built a fire in the house to keep warm. After doing all this, I still felt unusually cold, and some parts even began to numb. I drank all the spirits and ate all the food I had left. The smoke from the firewood was sucked away by the strong wind along with the dilapidated window. I sat by the fire, my body leaning against the wall and falling asleep.
Three
The next day's wind wasn't as strong. I moved my stiff body and dragged my tired body onto the horse's back. The road became bumpy, and when I encountered a slope, I led the horse. The winter day passes quickly, and before you know it, another dusk is approaching. Rolling hills appear in the distance. Those mountains were covered with snow. Abba once told me that as long as there is a mountain, the horses that run downwind will take refuge in the nest. Finally saw a little hope. No matter how tired my body was, my heart rejoiced. When I reached the foot of the first mountain, I saw countless horseshoe prints with the help of the pale night. It must have been the horses of Uyate. If I continue to ride my horse, the yellow horse will easily collapse. I led the horse and walked slowly. The night was dark, and the snow flashed with cold moonlight. I walked to the foot of the second mountain, the foot of the third mountain... At the foot of the fifth mountain, I finally saw a herd of horses huddled together. I was so excited that I was momentarily free of exhaustion. The tired and hungry horses began to get excited when they saw me, and they followed me without having to be driven.
I led the horses against the wind. In order to boost the momentum of the horses, I sang Haolin Chaoer from time to time. Breaking free from such a harsh situation requires not only physical strength, but also willpower. I, the Yellow Horse, and the Thirty Horses all need to rely on strong willpower to trek step by step. My body was a little numb, at first I could feel the cold, then gradually produced that unbearable stinging pain, and finally complete numbness. I hit my body with my hand. The herd of horses behind me also began to languish. I no longer have a concept of time. I couldn't even feel my own footsteps, only my eyes could see the feet that were stepping forward, and there was a shaking clearing ahead.
I don't know how far I have traveled, my consciousness is sometimes clear and sometimes blurred, and the wilderness in front of me shakes even more. My body suddenly didn't feel the cold, on the contrary I felt very hot. It was as if I had walked into a pasture in the middle of summer, the blazing sun roasting my body, and the thick clothes on my body made me feverish. I took off my coat, flannel hat and gloves. The horses were happily eating grass. I saw Abba Eji slowly approaching me. Eji's eyes were filled with worry. Abba shouted at me, kid, wake up! This is an illusion. I suddenly woke up, my body trembling violently, and looked back to see the thick coat lying a few meters away. I used all my strength to pick up the coat and drape it on my body. At the moment heavy snow is falling. The horses gathered together, with no intention of advancing. It seems that I am about to return to the wilderness with the horses. I can't walk anymore. The Yellow Horse used his body to shield me from the cold wind. I vividly experienced the harshness of the northern wilderness. The world is both real and illusory before my eyes, a combination of heaven and earth. At this time, the only part of my body that could move was my throat. I let out a sigh of relief. Another hot wave hit me, and I was extremely cold and extremely hot.
I was delirious. Just then I heard the voice, as if greeting the whole prairie. I felt the warmth of Haolin Chao'er like never before. With the last bit of strength, I responded to the voices from afar in the form of a howlish. I closed my eyes. There was nothing in front of my eyes, it could be said to be pitch black, or it could be said that one side was bright. empty. I don't know anything. When my consciousness returned to my brain, I heard a man's voice. He said to the people around him, "Go pick up a pot of snow." The man smeared the snow on me and rubbed it back and forth hard. My numb body gradually gained a faint intuition. The man rubbed and said that if it was a little later, his life would be gone. In response to the man, a woman's mournful sigh was heard. I also heard boys fighting with dogs. I finally struggled to open my eyes and saw the axonna overhead. But the wind was blowing in my ears all the time, and that great whistling was about to bury me. The man said, wake up, and bring the thick quilt over. So my body was covered by a quilt. With a sharp sting I fell into a coma again.
I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up again, I had some strength in my body. It was the herdsman family that I had rested from earlier. The man read deeper concerns from my face. He smiled and said, rest assured, your yellow horses and thirty horses are not many, and you are now eating hay in my stable. What is even more surprising is that the black dog you said last time actually came in your direction, and if my woman did not find out early, it would freeze to death in the wilderness. Only then did I realize that the black dog had been at my feet, lying like me. Next to it was the shepherd's little yellow dog. The man also asked the doctor to come and give me infusions and medicines. After their meticulous care, I was getting better and better, and after lying down for five days, I was able to get off the ground. Seeing that I am getting better, the herdsmen family is very happy. The man said, you know, it's not me who really saves you, it's yourself. Looking at my shocked expression, the man smiled and continued, after you left last time, our family was very uneasy about you, such a cold day, alone in the wilderness chasing horses, that is equivalent to sending death. But I knew that I could not stop the wranglers who were obsessed with chasing the horses. Later, I got on my horse and took another horse to look for you, and unconsciously walked into a strange place, surrounded by wilderness, and I began to be afraid. I learned to sing Haolin Chao'er the way you taught me, and I didn't expect to get your response. In a hollow, I found you and the horses. What a miracle! You also pointed me in a semi-coma to the direction of the return trip.
I held the man's hand tightly.
I suddenly remembered the arrogance of the tramp in front of me. I feel ashamed. Would the tramp have foreseen my danger? I don't know. But the Horin Chao'er he taught me saved my life. The black dog slowly came over and put his head at my side. I touched its head and cried. I haven't cried so sadly since Abba Eji died. It turned out I wasn't a lonely person. I've been wrapped up in greater warmth. The black dog also hummed and cried, and at the same time I heard the hissing of the horses outside the felt house. Whether it is a man or an animal, after experiencing a life-and-death ordeal, there will be more tragic feelings in the depths of the soul. It's about the tragedy of life and death.
Four
I recuperated for half a month at the herdsman's house and recovered. The weather forecast on the radio said that the strongest cold air had passed and that the next few days would be a rare sunny day. I mounted a yellow horse, led a black dog, and drove thirty horses from the Uzhigen pasture towards the Western Riga steppe. When I said goodbye to the herdsmen's families, tears rolled in their eyes and unusually kind smiles appeared on their faces. The man shouted behind my back, my Anda, wait until next year when the grasslands recover to come to see us! I respond happily, and when you hear my Voice, prove that I have come! Our voices intertwine in the empty air, forming a warm current that stirs in our respective hearts.
The man sang behind me...
The horses were well recuperated. The way back is still hard, but because of the clear goal, my heart is full of joy. I drove the horses from dawn to dusk, and finally reached the Siriga steppe. The tired and hungry horses saw their shed and ran smoothly without my command. I fed the horses hay, then briefly disposed of the collapsed shed and notch, and then dragged my tired body into a charcoal fire. The felt room soon warmed up, I drank in large bowls and ate large pieces of meat, and the black dog happily nibbled on the bones. I sang Horlin Chaoer by the charcoal fire, and the black dog hummed the way I did. At this moment, the Haolin Chaoer I sang was already indistinguishable from the voice of the tramp. Whether it's high or low, I sing with ease. Haolin Chaoer has no lyrics, but it is better than all the lyrics, and after experiencing the tribulations of life and death, I deeply understand the meaning of life in the wilderness. Once the voice is sung by the human body, it has fluctuations in people's thoughts. Haolin Chaoer contains all the joy and bitterness, which is another interpretation of life. Suddenly, a voice seemed to respond to my voice from a very far direction. That's another Howling Chaoer. I knew it was the song of a tramp. He never left me, he kept calling me.
I slept very comfortably that night, and I could feel how exhaustion flew away from my body and how vitality filled my body. A great life experience that brings great spiritual feelings.
The next day, I started tinkering with the stable. Soon after the rising sun, several herders came from the village of Siriga. They said that the white plague of the other day was terrible, and a few of them came to see my situation and found that the horse shed had collapsed, and there was no one in the felt room, so they knew that something had happened. They also sent two herders to look for them, but turned back because they could not withstand the cold. When they heard about my experience, they were shocked. They thought that in that harsh environment, let alone people, even horses could not survive. And when they saw the frostbite on my face and hands that were getting better, they shed sad tears. They say it's the heavens protecting me in the darkness. I followed their gaze to the sky, where it was empty and where everything was contained.
The herders helped me fix the stable in the strongest way. In the evening, when I invited them to drink wine and eat meat in the felt room, I sang a song for them. Their faces showed surprise and doubt again. I remembered what the tramp said goodbye and taught the herders the singing skills of Haolin Chao'er. They are natural singers, and some even make decent sounds on the spot. Our singing lit up the night.
I suddenly felt a little sad to live, and I learned how to sing horin chaoer, but I never thought of teaching it to the herders in the Siriga steppe, and I hadn't even sung it to them before. I was one of them, but I fit in with them in the loneliest way possible. But I also soberly realized that all this was a certain fateful opportunity. I am waiting for them, just as they are waiting for me. Only when this waiting opportunity arrives can we truly understand each other. At this time, no more explanation is needed, but complete trust and openness between each other. The herders already knew that in the depths of the distant steppe, there was a wandering herdsman singing Haolin Chaoer. In the future they will go looking for his traces.
A few herders drank with me all night and sang songs all night. When their figures gradually disappeared, I felt inexplicably lost in my heart. Although I already have more Anda, I will continue to survive alone in this hot land blown by the cold wind. Thinking of this, I can't help but grieve. How will I spend the rest of my life? I always habitually calculate the rest of my days. I waited for Uyathai to arrive. I will proudly tell him that thirty horses are not less than one. His smiling face would not hide the joy in his heart. He would laugh and burst into tears. I think that in his tears, only a small part is joy, and more is the bitterness of the past years.
There were several cold snaps in the rest of the day, but compared to the most terrible one, it was nothing compared to the most terrible one. I took good care of the horses. The days passed unhurriedly. A few herders from the village of Siriga occasionally come with mellow milk wine and delicious hand-held meat. The Haolin Chaoer they sang was getting better and better. When we sang together, we couldn't tell each other apart.
A burst of warmth struck, and a new round of life was born under the loose ground. I fed the horses, mounted a yellow horse, led the black dog, and brought Chaganed and spirits to the Uzhigen Ranch. I was outside the shepherd's house' felt house, singing a holin tide, and the man ran out of the felt room to greet me. We hugged and wept in this lonely pasture. The men accurately captured some sort of change in my eyes, and the family seemed to realize that this might be our last face. There is infinite sadness hidden in their laughter. Our two brief encounters are destined to be eternal in each other's lives...
The Siriga steppe was covered in a soft green coat. When the weather is clear, you can hear the sound of the river. Big birds and small birds fly across the sky from time to time. Under the light gauze-like clouds, Uyathai came on a white horse. When he saw thirty horses, he did laugh and burst into tears. But contrary to what I expected, he seemed to have experienced the most important things in his life, and his smile was unusually transparent and honest. He had heard my story on the way. My story spread throughout the prairie like a legend. He said, my Anda, stay, the horses of the village of Siriga are about to disband, and we will raise horses together. I was very touched, but suddenly I had another idea. This thought seemed to have been lurking in my heart for a long time, and now I finally realized it. Some mysterious force like a mission is calling me. I'm leaving.
In the distance, the green mountains where the bones of my Abba Eji were buried loomed in the rolling hills. It is also the direction where the tramp disappeared. I mounted a yellow horse and led the black dog toward the mountains. Uyata must have seen the unshakable firmness in my eyes, and did not say anything more.
In the vast heavens and the earth, the haolin chaoer reverberates.
—END—
Yangtze River Literature and Art, No. 4, 2022
Responsible Editor | Ding East Asia
▲ Anisu |
Anisu, real name Zhao Wen, is of Mongolian ethnicity. Mongolian-Chinese bilingual creation and translation. His works can be found in Ethnic Literature, Youth Literature, Yangtze River Literature and Art, Shanxi Literature, Fujian Literature, Shandong Literature, Anhui Literature, Works, Grassland, etc. Some works have been selected by "Novel Monthly" and "Yangtze River Literature and Art • Good Novel". Published the essay collection "Searching for Roots" and the short story collection "Xi Riga".