Jackal and Wolf Read online

  First published in paperback in Great Britain 2012

  First e-book edition 2012

  by Egmont UK Limited

  239 Kensington High Street

  London W8 6SA

  Text copyright © Shen Shixi 2010

  Copyright in the English translation © Helen Wang 2012

  Illustration copyright © Chen Wen 2010

  The moral rights of the author have been asserted

  ISBN 978 1 4052 6449 5

  eISBN 978 1 7803 1216 3

  www.egmont.co.uk

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Biography

  About the Publisher

  Chapter 1

  Far away in the remote west of China, close to the Tibetan border and the monasteries of Shangri-La, snow-covered mountains rise above lush grassland. Behind the bushes at the foot of one of the mountains, there is a little hole in the rock that opens into a big cave. The local people call it Buddha Belly Cave because it reminds them of the big round belly of the laughing Buddha Maitreya, and because they have heard the story of the Ming dynasty monk who spent ten years in the cave, reciting sutras.

  More recently, a jackal had made this cave her den and given birth to a pair of pups: one male, one female. Perhaps the cave really was a special place, because the week-old pups had been bursting with health and full of life. They had opened their eyes five days after they were born, and by the seventh day they had been clambering over everything.

  Jackals were quite common in these mountains. The local people called them ‘red wolves’ on account of their colour, or ‘jackal-dogs’ because of their size. In fact, they are about halfway between a dog and a wolf: a bit bigger than a dog, but a lot smaller than a wolf. Although they all belong to the Canis family, dogs and wolves are the same species and closely related, whereas jackals are a different species, a completely different kind of animal.

  The mother jackal had a thick coat of hair. Her back, tail and heels were a rich, glossy red and when she moved it was like seeing a cloud on fire. That is why she was known as Flame.

  One afternoon Flame had gone hunting for food. She had not been out long when she chanced upon a mongoose and a snake locked in battle, thrashing about on the banks of the Guna River. The red-cheeked mongoose had sunk its teeth into the two-metre long snake, and the snake had wound itself round the mongoose’s throat. Flame was not going to take sides; it was not up to her who would win and who would lose. She stopped on a tree stump by the river and watched the battle unfold.

  Before long, the mongoose had more or less ripped the snake’s body in two. The snake jerked a couple of times, then fell to the ground like an old rope. The exhausted mongoose lay panting on the shore.

  Flame leapt from the tree stump and barked at the snake killer. Mongooses and jackals are not natural enemies and, having just been through one vicious battle, the mongoose had neither the energy nor the inclination to engage in another. Annoyed, it snarled a couple of times, then raised its tail and scarpered. With less effort than it takes to blow a piece of ash, Flame had got herself a cobra. She sighed with pleasure: what a stroke of luck!

  For Flame, there was no better way to get food. Getting something for nothing can be wonderful, especially when there are newborn pups to suckle and here was a fine dinner, all for free. Jackals have to hunt selectively: mice, frogs, chickens and snow rabbits are easy prey, but anything else is risky. An antelope will gore with its horns and, as a new mother, Flame knew that if she were wounded her pups would suffer too. It was usually safer to pick up some flesh that had been dead for a while than take on anything challenging. But this was an excellent outcome; the mongoose had killed the snake for her! With little effort and no risk, she would soon be eating delicious snake meat. She couldn’t have asked for anything better!

  Flame took the snake in her mouth, holding it firmly between her teeth, and dragged it back to the cave. She wouldn’t eat it outside; wild animals – a pack of dogs or wolves, or a wild cat – might pick up the scent of fresh blood from the riverbank and come to snatch it from her. It was a wilderness out there. There were always ravenous beasts on the lookout for food. And if they didn’t come, then bald eagles and rapacious crows would swoop down and make such a commotion that she wouldn’t be able to eat.

  The smaller half of the snake was enough for one meal for Flame so she hid the larger half at the back of the cave for the next day and the day after that. The pups were very young and she was trying to go out as little as possible, and to keep her hunting time short. They had no idea how to look after themselves or defend themselves; if a weasel or sable were to run into the cave, they’d gobble them up like hot cakes. She wanted to be with them as much as she could, and protect them from danger.

  As the autumn sun began to set in the west, it seeped into Buddha Belly Cave, filling it with a golden light and the intense scent of wild berries. Flame lay in the evening sun, holding the pups close to her, her body dappled like soft rose petals. She could feel the goodness of the fresh snake meat coursing through her. Her teats had throbbed with sweet nutritious milk, filling the pups with playful energy. They were tumbling about beside her; a nip here, a claw there. To Flame’s ears the sound of her little pups trying to growl was the sweetest song in the world.

  With two days’ food in stock, Flame could relax. She would not have to venture from the cave tomorrow or the day after. The sunlight was warm and gentle, and her pups were so adorable. They felt at home in the cave. Gently, she licked their little faces, their cheekbones, backs, bellies and limbs, a gentle caress of motherly love. Washed and groomed, their golden down shimmered in the evening sun. Flame stretched out her legs, closed her heavy eyes, and savoured this rare moment of peace.

  A strange crunching sound sneaked into Flame’s ear. It was coming from the stony ground outside the cave. Not the rustle of dry leaves blown along the ground, or the scrabble of a bird hunting for grubs in the gravel, but a faint gotcha gotcha that was growing louder all the time, as though something in the distance was coming closer and closer to the cave.

  Flame was instantly alert. She was so sensitive to everything as a new mother that it seemed she slept with one eye open and one ear closed. She leapt to her feet, peered out through the grass at the mouth of the cave, and gasped.

  Outside the cave, the evening sun cast the long shadow of . . . a wolf. She quickly pulled the two pups from their tussling and tucked them beneath her. They were oblivious to the danger, and if she could get them to suckle, then they wouldn’t make a sound.

  She kept her eyes on the wolf. The light of the setting sun meant that she could see it outside, but the cave was too dark for the predator to see her. It was a she-wolf: big, grey and strong, with purple-black hair all over her body, and two rows of swollen teats like ripe fruits pulling on a branch. She must have pups too. The wolf looked around, searching with her beady eyes, then lowered her snout to sniff at the ground, and moved towards the cave
.

  Flame watched as the wolf followed the same path she had taken when she brought the snake to the cave. Then it dawned on her. Although she had held the snake between her teeth, it was long and heavy, and must have dragged along the ground. The mongoose had been vicious, and drops of blood and bits of snake flesh would have fallen as she walked. The wolf must have picked up the scent. Once the snake was in the cave, Flame should have retraced her steps and licked the snake trail clean or covered her tracks with earth. But she hadn’t. She had been so delighted at bringing home a snake that would feed her for three whole days that she hadn’t given it a moment’s thought. What a stupid mistake she had made! A stupid and terrifying mistake that had led a wolf to her den.

  Out in the wilderness, you have to be so careful: the tiniest slip can lead to disaster. The jackal’s position in the food chain meant she had to be on her guard at all times and could not take anything for granted. If only she had thought about it sooner. If only a rabbit would dart through the scrubby grass outside the cave and distract the wolf! If only a hailstorm would suddenly break out, and a hailstone the size of a pebble would hit the wolf on the head. Not to do any serious harm to the wolf, just to stun her for a while. But the grass was still, the sky was blue, and there was not a hint of rain. The wolf sniffed her way forwards. The terrifying shadow grew closer to Buddha Belly Cave.

  Wolves arouse terror. Other carnivores – like lynxes and bears – arouse fear, but not terror. The lynx, or ‘little tiger’, may be fiercer than a wolf, but it is not a natural enemy of the jackal. If a lynx came to the jackal’s cave, it would be after a good meal, and would eat with relish what was left of the snake, but would not be interested in anything else. A bear may be four or five times the size of a wolf, and may deserve to be known as the ‘strong man of the forest’ because it can rip a wild cow’s hide from its body, but it is still much easier to deal with than a wolf. Bears are strong but they are not so smart.

  If it was a bear outside the cave right now, Flame could limp out of the cave, pretending her leg was hurt, then turn and run. The greedy bear would fall for her ruse and chase after her. Flame would just need to control her speed: speed up when the bear ran, slow down when the bear walked. This would keep the bear’s hopes up, but reduce her chances of being caught. In this way, she could divert the danger away from the cave.

  But it is different with wolves. Jackal and wolf are like fire and water. They are in the same family and have similar needs. In Nature, the rule of survival is that the closer two creatures’ needs are in terms of habitat and food, the stronger the competition and the tenser the relationship. Jackals and wolves have competed since the beginning of time. Wolves hate jackals; jackals hate wolves.

  Once the wolf had picked up her trail, she wouldn’t be satisfied with a good meal. Flame knew that even if she hurled the rest of the snake out of the cave, it would not be enough to persuade her to leave. The wolf would wait by the entrance to the cave, eat the snake, then, her energy restored, charge into the cave and tuck into the jackals.

  Having set up her lair, she would not tolerate a single jackal in the area, and would not rest until she had eliminated the competition. Flame’s wounded leg ruse would be a waste of time. The wolf would see straight through the pretence. Instead of giving chase, it would watch her run off, then pick up the old scent, follow it into the cave, and gobble up the pups. Wolves are the biggest threat to jackals, in every sense of the word. Although similar in many ways, they are natural enemies and cannot live in close proximity.

  The only way Flame’s two-week pups could make it through this disaster would be if they stayed where they were, out of sight, and didn’t make a sound. In other words, if she pretended they didn’t exist. Animals often have to play hide-and-seek type games in order to survive. If only this wolf were blind, deaf and had no sense of smell! Because that was the only way she would not notice Buddha Belly Cave behind the bushes.

  But that was wishful thinking. The grey wolf clearly had sharp eyes, sharp ears and a sharp sense of smell. Flame knew she had already discovered the cave with its jackal den inside. The wolf’s tail was up, straight as a stick, her mouth had widened slightly, revealing a set of sharp white fangs. Her pupils drowned in the white of her eyes as she focused on the task ahead. They were the eyes of a murderer.

  Flame was so tense she could barely breathe. If only her mate Snout were by her side; he wouldn’t be scared. Jackals aren’t pack animals: a pair of jackals will set up their own home, and the parents will look after the younger generation. Snout was her mate, a fine jackal, loyal and brave. With his big beautiful snout he had an exceptional sense of smell. He had been great at hunting out food, and their life had been easy. They’d been together about six months, but just before the pups were born, something terrible happened.

  Snout had been out hunting. He’d been stalking a small deer. The deer had run into the marshes and Snout had followed, ready to pounce and make his attack. But it was the rainy season: the marshes were oozing summer rain, and there were leeches everywhere. When Snout dragged the deer out of the marshes, he had a dozen or more leeches clinging to him, burying under his skin to drink his blood. Two vicious ones had bored their way into his nostrils, and he couldn’t dislodge them. He pawed at his snout, but the more he pawed, the deeper they went. He snorted as hard as he could, but that didn’t help either. There was nothing he could do. His eyes widened in terror as he felt the leeches creeping through his nostrils into his brain. A few hours later Snout had lost consciousness and died.

  It was awful to lose a jackal in his prime, to lose this hero of a generation. It was unbearable for Flame to think that such tiny spineless creatures as leeches had caused his death. In this world she hated wolves most of all – and then leeches. If it weren’t for the leeches then Snout would still be here. His magnificent snout had been his downfall; the leeches would never have succeeded on a smaller one. And if he hadn’t died, he would be here with her now, seeing off this menace. A grey wolf may be more fearsome and stronger than a jackal, but a pair of jackals leaping out of Buddha Belly Cave could pounce on her with some force. If they couldn’t finish her off, they could at least get even, and guard the cave entrance and keep the young pups out of harm’s way.

  Right now, though, Flame could not think of a way out of this situation. The wolf was about twenty metres from the cave. At this critical moment, she made another mistake. She was so worried that the pups might cry out or try to move, that she held them tightly to her body, and stuffed her teats into their mouths. It didn’t matter whether they were hungry or not, it just mattered that they kept quiet. When the boy-pup tried to pull away, Flame held him down firmly, as if to say, ‘Be a good boy, don’t make a sound, just suck. I need you to be quiet!’ But the pup was uncomfortable. He became quite vicious and bit her. Baby jackals are born with small soft teeth, but they feel as sharp as needles and as hard as jade when they are plunged into soft flesh. As though stung by a red ant or bitten by a leech, Flame flinched instinctively and let go of him. The resistant pup pulled away and squealed with relief. The girl pup copied him, and the two squealed in unison. They were so small, so young, and had no concept of danger, no idea of what it meant to be tender young flesh.

  The grey wolf stopped. She gave a low growl, and scoured Buddha Belly Cave with her bright green eyes. From the wolf’s raised hair and the tension in the bend of her legs, Flame knew that the wolf had found them, and was preparing to kill.

  Without thinking, she grabbed the girl pup by the scruff of her neck, and bounded out of the cave.

  It wasn’t that Flame was a coward in the face of danger, or that she was selfishly putting her own life before that of her pups. If she had even a twenty per cent chance of beating the wolf, or if sacrificing her own life would save her pups, she would not have hesitated for one moment to give that grey wolf the fight of her life. The problem was that being a jackal, she was only two-thirds the size of the wolf, her teeth were not as sharp,
and she was not as strong. There was no chance she could win; it would be suicide to try. And if she died, what hope would there be for the pups? Either the wolf would eat them, or they’d die of hunger. And so she ran.

  Her strategy was to take one pup. There was less chance of losing them both at once if she split them up. If the wolf did not chase after her now, she would at least have the girl pup. But if the wolf did come, she would run and run, twisting and turning in every direction until the wolf was so dizzy she could no longer tell where she was going. By then, even if she had to drop the pup from her mouth, there was every chance the wolf would be so confused she would not be able to find her way back to Buddha Belly Cave, and the boy pup would be saved. Lose one, save the other – what an awful choice for a mother to make.

  When Flame bounded out of the cave, the grey wolf looked stunned for a moment, then chased after her like a mad whirlwind. Jackals have shorter legs than wolves and can’t run as fast. What’s more, Flame had a pup between her teeth, which was slowing her down. She ran almost a hundred metres, but the wolf was quickly at her heels. She had no choice but to drop the pup. The grey wolf stopped, nosed her way through the shrubs, found the pup still rolling from the fall, and killed it.

  Flame fled to a safe distance, and trembled as she watched the wolf from a small hill. Once the wolf had finished eating, it picked up the scent again, and headed back to Buddha Belly Cave. Flame could see her quite clearly. The wolf’s belly was full. She was no longer hunting because she was hungry; she was trying to get rid of the jackals in the area.

  Flame’s hope dwindled, then died. The wolf found her way back to the cave quite easily, squeezed past the bushes, and went into the cave. After a while she emerged into the open air, licking smears of blood from around her mouth, and ran off into the forest as though rushing home to feed her pups.

  Flame waited until the wolf was far away, then ran into the cave. She found the boy-pup, but he was already dead. The wolf had bitten off his head. In just a few minutes, her happy jackal family was gone.