Mongolian Blue Wolf - The Most Respected King of Mongolia - Genghis Khan

Author: Omeishik
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-12-01
Features: On the fourth day, my companion and I crossed the vast valley of Chifeng Mountains at night. Temüjin rode ahead, and I followed step by step behind him. B?kegu'tai followed me, and then H?chüün. We moved like snakes along the ridges and forks of the mountains to avoid the piles of rocks that had collapsed. When the western peak of Chifeng turned pink as the sun rose, it suddenly blazed like a purple-red cloth unfurled in the wind. Then the flat slopes where water flowed were dyed golden, and this golden hue accelerated the speed of the horses racing through the dimly lit, half-asleep valley. My three companions were silent, and Temüjin only told me that the climb had saved us half a day's journey, and we had to reach the lower reaches of the Khulun River quickly. Most of the day, we were on the move, the horses suffering from the heat as they climbed the rugged plateaus with sharp ridges and high peaks, with steep back-slopes and snow-white summits between them. When we stopped to rest and confirmed that the fire had been extinguished and no smoke was rising, dusk had already fallen. The grass there was fresh, the Khulun River was in sight, and the scenery was very tranquil. On the other side of the steep riverbank, a mountain corner stood tall, gazing at the river in a dazed and solitary manner. When Temüjin's brothers had secured the horses, he walked with me to the riverbed lined with willows, where pebbles were barely visible among the sand. Small flocks of birds chattered endlessly on the thin branches, and a pair of red-faced ducks quacked and flapped their wings, flying away displeased in front of us. At that moment, we could have shot them with an arrow, but we decided to fill the goat-skin bags with water first, then hide separately and wait for them to fly back to the other side. As our eyes followed the flight of the long-legged stork, the small grass slowly began to sprout. When the two ducks flew back to the strange bend in the river, our two arrows had pierced them. Each of us was supposed to get the one they had shot, but we all disagreed, not wanting to take the one we had shot. Life is truly beautiful; as the night candles were lit one by one, we promised that it would also be a wonderful night. I was awakened by a buzzing fly, which was drying the dew on its wings as the sun's rays suddenly appeared. I wanted to sleep longer, but a crested pheasant somewhere above me gave a judgmental call, driving away my sleep. I first opened one eye, then the other. Far in the distance, the grasslands were floating with some dreamlike shadows. The sunlight, like charcoal fire, blurred the vision, sometimes making sweat and soul seem to drain away too quickly. I saw countless straight lines, broken and yet like only one line. A deer with red light spots on its body suddenly stopped. I walked toward it, only to find a large herd of white-rumped antelopes and saiga. Their pale yellow coats blended with the withered grass, making them hard to distinguish. They leaped lightly and nervously to higher ground. I had predicted hundreds, but the heads of the antelopes kept coming in, and on this bare grassland, the total number was surprisingly close to a thousand. I had never seen so many antelopes; I had only seen them a few times bowing on their fragile legs, with their buttocks facing the moon. It would have been a pity if Hasar couldn't come with us. Temüjin had previously told me that among his five brothers, he was the best at archery. At that time, we should have been able to stop the antelopes