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into Manchuria. Even now there were deep ruts left by tanks, as well as the hulks of Russian and Japanese tanks and armored vehicles.
    Nearly all the old herders owned Russian or Japanese bayonets, canteens, spades, helmets, binoculars, and other military equipment. The long chain Gasmai used to tether calves came from a Russian army truck. But of all the military equipment left behind by the Russians and the Japanese, binoculars were the herders’ favorite and had become an important tool for production.
    The herdsmen, who treasured things they could not produce themselves, usually took the binoculars apart to make a pair of “telescopes,” for the reduced size made them easy to carry and doubled their usage. “These have helped us in hunting,” Bilgee said, “and have made it easier to find lost horses. But the wolves’ eyesight seems to have improved, and if you observe a wolf through one of these things, sometimes you’ll see that the he’s looking right back at you.”
    One day after Chen had been living in the old man’s yurt for six months, Bilgee took a telescope out of the wagon box and handed it to him.
    The Russian telescope was old and the copper nonskid surface had been worn smooth in places, but the powerful lens was of the highest quality. Chen treasured the gift, which he wrapped in red silk, using it only when he was helping cowherds run down strays or horse herders find lost horses, or when he went hunting with Bilgee.
    Chen surveyed the area through his telescope; his latent hunting instincts were awakened as he looked through his “hunter’s eye.” These hunting instincts had awakened too late in his life, he felt, and he was saddened to have been born into a line of farmers. Farmers had become as timid as sheep after dozens, even hundreds, of generations of being raised on grains and greens, the products of farming communities; they had lost the virility of their nomadic ancestors, going back to the legendary Yellow Emperor. No longer hunters, they had become the hunted.
    The wolf pack still showed no signs of attacking, and Chen was beginning to lose patience over their extraordinary ability to hold back. “Are they going to complete the encirclement today?” he asked. “Are they waiting until it gets dark to attack?”
    “War demands patience,” the old man replied softly. “Opportunities present themselves only to the patient, man and beast, and only they take advantage of those opportunities. How do you think Genghis Khan was able to defeat the great armies of the Jin with so few mounted warriors? And all the nations that fell to him? Displaying only the power of wolves isn’t enough. You must also display patience. Even the largest and mightiest armies can stumble. If a mighty horse stumbles, it is at the mercy of even a small wolf. Without patience, you are not a wolf, you are not a hunter, and you are not Genghis Khan. You are always saying you want to get an understanding of wolves and of Genghis Khan. Well, then, lie there and be patient.”
    There was an angry edge to the old man’s comment. So Chen tried to cultivate a bit of patience. He trained his telescope on a wolf he’d observed several times already. It lay there as if dead. After a few moments, the old man softened his tone and said, “After lying here all this time, have you figured out what the wolves are waiting for?”
    Chen shook his head.
    “They’re waiting for the gazelles to eat their fill and doze off,” Bilgee said.
    “Are they really that smart?” Chen asked in amazement.
    “You Chinese don’t know a thing about wolves. People aren’t as clever as they are. Here, I’ll test you. Do you think a single wolf, even a large one, can bring down a gazelle?”
    Chen thought a moment before answering: “No, you’d need three, two to chase it and the third lying in ambush. No wolf could do it alone.”
    The old man shook his head. “Would you believe that one ferocious wolf can bring down a gazelle