by Chi Zijian
‘At the time I wondered why a guest was arriving so late,’ she recounted. ‘I decided to wait until the guest knocked on the door before getting the lamp. I felt around for the matches, but no one knocked.
‘Thinking I must have been mistaken, I went back to sleep on my heated kang. Just then I heard the sound of hooves again, but it grew faint, so the horseman must have left.’
There were still bandits on the run in the mountains, and the innkeeper’s wife had suspected that a bandit was sizing up her inn. She eventually got up to latch the door, and only then was she able to go to sleep. But now it appeared that the rider had come expressly to abandon the infant.
There was no note in the swaddling clothes, so they couldn’t tell where the child came from or when it was born. But since her milk teeth hadn’t emerged, she must have been less than six months old. From her looks you could tell she wasn’t of Evenki stock, because the bridge of her nose was set high, and she had big eyes, slightly curled lips and a fair complexion.
‘The parents are probably Han. But why would they abandon their own flesh and blood?’ wondered the innkeeper’s wife.
‘This is probably the illegitimate child of a young lady from a well-to-do family,’ surmised her husband. ‘Or else someone kidnapped an enemy’s child for revenge.’
‘If it was an act of revenge, why not just leave her in the mountains to be eaten by wolves?’ said his wife. ‘Obviously the horseman abandoned her in the stable to allow her to survive.’
Vladimir and Dashi carried her back into the mountains. No one had imagined that Vladimir would bring home an abandoned little girl! But everyone adored the child. She not only had comely eyebrows, she also loved to laugh and rarely cried.
Vladimir asked Valodya to name her. Valodya thought for a while. ‘Since she was abandoned in a stable, and a horse watched over her for a night and didn’t harm her, let’s give her the Han family name Ma, for “horse”. And since she loves to wave her arms and kick her feet, when she grows up she’ll no doubt dance the Ikan, so let’s call her Maikan.’ Ikan means ‘Circle Dance’ or ‘Bonfire Dance’ in our language.
Maikan brought unmatched happiness to the whole urireng. Every day I milked the reindeer and took it to Vladimir’s. He brought it to the boil, waited until it was neither hot nor cold, and then fed her. At times Vladimir fed her too quickly and she’d choke on the milk, so I often went over to help.
Berna was two and still nursing, so even though Nihau didn’t have a lot of milk, she occasionally nursed Maikan too. But as soon as Nihau stuffed her nipple in Maikan’s mouth, Berna behaved as if she had suffered some great injustice. She tugged at Nihau’s lapels and wouldn’t stop howling. So Nihau often nursed Maikan for just an instant and then she had to put her down and pick up Berna.
Zefirina adored Maikan. But when she held her, Zefirina’s face was terribly forlorn, for she wanted a child of her own so badly.
Whenever Maria saw Maikan, her tongue twisted involuntarily as if Maikan were a flame scalding her tongue. ‘Ai yoyo!’ she’d exclaim. ‘I’ve never seen such a lovely child. A tiny fairy!’
But Yveline treated Maikan with indifference, barely even glancing at her.
In deep autumn, with an eye to obtaining a set of pretty winter clothing for Maikan, Vladimir put two roe-deer pelts under his arm, picked up the child and went to seek Yveline’s aid, saying that only her handiwork was reliable.
That was the first time Yveline actually looked at Maikan. She threw her a glance, and said: ‘Isn’t this a ball of fire on water?’
Vladimir didn’t get her meaning, so he just smiled. Then she added: ‘A fish in the grass!’
Vladimir assumed that Yveline didn’t want to make clothes for Maikan and was spouting nonsense to put him off. But just as he was about to leave, Yveline spoke again. ‘Leave the furs and come back in three days.’
Three days later Yveline was finished. But it was a very odd garment. Without a collar or sleeves, it resembled a large bag with no holes for breathing, and Vladimir was so furious that he froze in an angry stare.
‘Yveline is old now,’ I said to Vladimir, ‘her handiwork isn’t as good as before, and she’s a tad crazy too, so it’s no surprise that she would make clothing like this.’ I took it apart and sewed a new one whose sleeves and collar were embroidered with green silk. Vladimir was content so he didn’t reproach Yveline.
***
Ivan didn’t return to the mountains as promised, and Luni and I missed him a lot. That winter Xu Caifa came with horses transporting many goods, particularly grain, salt and liquor. He said Ivan had arranged for a Mongolian fellow in the trucking business to transfer money to the supply cooperative, and then Xu Caifa used that money to buy goods and bring them up to our urireng. Ivan sent word that he was stationed now at Jalannér, and told us not to worry about him. He’d come back to see us two years hence.
This was the first time that we had benefited from goods without exchanging pelts and antlers, and the unexpected gift made everyone happy. ‘Ivan is really something. Now we get a share of his soldier’s pay and rations!’ said Hase.
‘The way I see it,’ said Xu Caifa, ‘living off the military isn’t as reliable as raising reindeer and eating food available in the mountains.’
When he finished speaking, Yveline came over and offered him a bowl of reindeer milk. It had been several years since Xu Caifa last saw her, and he couldn’t have imagined that she’d become so wizened and stooped. ‘Life in the mountains certainly ages you,’ he sighed.
Xu Caifa heard that Vladimir had claimed an abandoned baby girl in Uchiriovo. ‘Everyone says that little girl’s looks rival those of a fairy. Bring her over and let me have a look.’
‘Has anyone been looking for a child over the last half year?’ asked Vladimir.
‘An abandoned child is like spilled water,’ said Xu Caifa. ‘Who’d go looking for it?’ His heart at ease, Vladimir brought Maikan out. He was always worried that whoever had abandoned Maikan would regret it, and show up at his urireng looking for her.
When Vladimir carried the child over, Xu Caifa clicked his tongue in admiration. ‘Sure enough, she is truly lovely. A perfect wife for my grandson one day!’
Vladimir’s expression altered immediately. ‘Maikan is my daughter. When she grows up she won’t be any man’s wife!’ Everyone chuckled at Vladimir’s reaction.
‘Outside the mountains they’re carrying out land reform now,’ said Xu Caifa. ‘Those ruthless landlords are all as withered as if they’d been covered in frost. Their land, houses and livestock aren’t their property any more, and they’ve been divided up among the poor.
‘The peasants who once slaved away for those landlords are gleefully settling scores with them. They’re paraded in the street with ropes around their necks and hands tied behind their backs, and they’re so wretched that their toes stick out from their shoes. And as for those daughters of well-to-do households who once dressed in silk and satin, nowadays they can’t marry themselves off to a mafoo. It’s really a changing of the dynasties,’ concluded Xu Caifa.
No one else had much to say about Xu Caifa’s revelations, but Yveline cleared her throat and spoke. ‘Bravo! Bravo! Nowadays you can even denounce landlords, so why not settle scores with the Soviets and Japanese too?’
No one seconded Yveline. She eyed us one by one, shook her head, got up slowly, and repeated Xu Caifa’s words: ‘Life in the mountains certainly ages you,’ and then walked away hunched over.
That evening we lit a bonfire in the camp, roasted squirrel meat and downed it with baijiu. After we had drunk our fill, everyone circled the bonfire and danced. I stood at a distance and admired the red-orange flames as they trembled and jumped. The bonfire was so radiant that it not only illuminated the nearby forest, it even shone upon the curves of the distant mountain ridges.
If the Spirits above were on the hunt, then our bonfire was their prey. This prey brought happiness to the Spirits and to us. I believe that
the Spirits were sweetly regaling themselves with their prey, and when the bonfire turned to ashes, didn’t the smoke and flames float off into the Heavens?
Valodya discovered I was standing all alone. He crept up silently, circled my neck with his arms, pressed against my ears and said romantically: ‘I am mountains, you are water. Mountains create water, and water nourishes mountains. Where mountains and water meet, earth and sky are eternal.’
If the Right Bank of the Argun where we live is a giant rooted in the earth and holding up the skies, then those waterways of all sizes are blood vessels criss-crossing his body, and mountain ranges form his skeleton. Those mountains belong to Egdan, the Greater Khingan Mountain Range.
Over the course of my life I’ve seen many a mountain and no longer recall all of them. In my eyes, every mountain on the Right Bank is a star sparkling on Mother Earth. During the spring and summer, these stars are green, in the autumn they are golden yellow, and silvery white in the winter.
I love them. They are like human beings with their own temperaments and physiques. Some are short and rounded, like a clay pot turned upside down; some stand tall and elegantly linked like the beautiful outstretched horns of a reindeer. In my eyes, the trees on the mountains are masses of flesh and blood.
Unlike rivers, most mountains have no name, but we have designated certain ones. For instance, we named one Alanjak for the way it towers from on high; one that reveals its white stones, Kailaqqi; Yanggirqi Mountain is covered with horsetail pines and lies between Yaagi River and the Luddoy Watershed. To the mountain on the northern slopes of the Greater Khingan Range where we once discovered a cow’s skull, we gave the name Hvhuldur.
Mountain springs were numerous, and most were cool and sweet, but there was one mountain whose stream had an acrid taste, as if the mountain suffered from melancholy, so we named it Slerkan.
Puffball loved to name the mountains. When he saw a mountain where reindeer lingered, he called it Morkofka, ‘the mountain where moss grows’. Seeing a mountain rich in astragalus, he’d style it Aikusk, for ‘mountain covered in astragalus’. I still recall these names, but which particular mountain they refer to I don’t remember. But there is one mountain whose name we shall always remember – Listvyanka Mountain in the Jiin Béra river basin.
In the spring of 1955 when the fawning season began, we decided to perform a marriage ceremony for Viktor and Lyusya, because Viktor had spent the entire spring polishing a deer-bone necklace for Lyusya. Without telling anyone, they often accompanied one another to pick wild fruits or hunt squirrels. Valodya said they were adults now and should be allowed to be together.
Just when we were worrying that if Nihau hosted the marriage ceremony she’d see Lyusya and, reminded of Juktakan’s death, feel sad, news came that our Clan Chieftain had passed away. As our Clan Shaman, Nihau ought to preside over the chief’s funeral, and could thus avoid Lyusya’s marriage ceremony.
For the Chieftain’s funeral rites, not only Nihau but also Luni, as our urireng’s Headman, had to go. When they left we didn’t mention that we were going to perform a marriage ceremony for Viktor because we feared Nihau would object. Strictly speaking, given the death of our Chieftain, we should have delayed the marriage ceremony.
But I felt that’s the way life is – there are births and there are deaths, sorrows and joys, marriages and funerals, and there needn’t be so many taboos. So as soon as Nihau and Luni left, our urireng began wedding preparations.
Nihau and Luni left their son and daughter behind. Nihau instructed me to be sure to look after her children well, and I told her to put her heart at ease. My Tatiana, who was already nine, and her Berna, who was two years younger, were very close and virtually inseparable, so Nihau needn’t fret over this pair of well-behaved young girls.
Maikan was also five then and Tatiana and Berna liked to play with her. They chased each other about in the camp like a trio of colourful butterflies flitting in the wind.
Nihau’s son, Tibgur, was ten that year. He was a very sensible child, hardworking and diligent, and better liked than Grigori, who had died. When Nihau ate khleb, he always helped her spread bear fat on the bread, and when Luni wanted to drink tea, Tibgur would be off in a flash to boil the water. At eight he began hunting squirrels with Luni, and on the way back he always gathered faggots and carried them on his back. Valodya said that when Tibgur grew up he’d be a marvellous man with his gentleness and winning personality.
Tibgur loved the fawns and when Puffball and Vladimir were busy delivering them he always went to watch. At the moment of birth, he would wave his hands and cheer and jump for joy just like a playful fawn.
Sometimes the reindeer roamed far away to forage and the fawns went hungry, so the women had to leave camp, locate the does and bring them back to nurse their offspring.
Tibgur accompanied us on our searches. ‘You were all nursed to adulthood by your mothers,’ he’d say when we found the errant does. ‘If they hadn’t fed you back then, you’d have turned to dust long ago.’
On the third day after the departure of Nihau and her entourage, Valodya presided over the marriage of Viktor and Lyusya. It had rained the day before, so the air was fresh and the bird calls in the forest were especially cheerful.
We conducted the ceremony at the foot of a mountain on the banks of the Jiin. Slender Lyusya wore the wedding gown that I had sewn for her and sported a garland of wild flowers on her head. Hanging from her neck was the deer-bone necklace painstakingly crafted for her by Viktor; she looked very pretty.
That day Puffball dressed very neatly. He had even shaved and seemed very pleased about this union. A smile never left his face. Ever since his self-mutilation, his voice had gone hoarse and his jowls sagged.
‘A name should be given to this mountain to commemorate the marriage of Viktor and Lyusya,’ Valodya said.
The mountain was covered in lush green pine trees. ‘Let’s call it Listvyanka Mountain,’ said Puffball. Listvyanka means ‘pine woodland’.
Once the mountain had a name, Valodya put it to immediate use. ‘We gather here where reindeer fawns are delivered in order to bless your union,’ he told Viktor and Lyusya. ‘The surging waters of the Jiin Béra are the dewdrops of your love, and majestic Listvyanka Mountain is the cradle of your happiness. May the Jiin Béra forever encircle you, and may Listvyanka Mountain accompany you both in your dreams!’
Observing my Viktor’s heroic bearing, I recalled Lajide, the first man in my life, and my eyes moistened. Although Valodya was gazing at me tenderly, I yearned passionately for Lajide at that moment. I suddenly comprehended that, in the lamp of my life, there was still oil left over from Lajide; his flame had been extinguished, but his energy was still there. Even though Valodya injected new oil, and lit it with tenderness, what he lit was a half-full lamp.
After the rites, everyone began to eat and drink, sing and dance. The banquet dishes were Zefirina’s handiwork, and the sausages she cooked up were very popular. First, she minced roe-deer meat, mixed in green onions and laosangqin, and just the right amount of salt. She poured this mix into sausage casings and boiled them in an iron pot for three to five minutes. Then she took the sausages out and cut them into short sections. Indescribably delicious!
Zefirina also used the hanging pot to cook several wild ducks. She added chopped leek to the soup, and the duck tasted meaty but not greasy. Besides this, there was also roe-deer head broth, reindeer-milk cheese, grilled fish fillets and lily bulb congee.
It’s fair to say that of all the wedding feasts I attended, this was the most bountiful. Several times Valodya expressed his admiration for Zefirina’s cuisine, and she blushed at his compliments.
Like Yveline, Maria was now entirely hunched over. Though the pair sat by the bonfire drinking baijiu to celebrate, no words passed between them and their eyes didn’t even meet.
During those days Maria coughed from morning to night, and her long coughing spells left her gasping. But Maria’s cough was glad tid
ings to Yveline. Her eyebrows rose contentedly and the hint of a smile appeared.
If the bonfire is a flower bud in the daylight hours, then in the dusk’s indistinct light it begins to unfold bashfully. As the night approaches, its petals open wider, but in the deep of night, it blooms wildly.
By the time the bonfire was in full bloom, Puffball was already drunk and so was Kunde. Kunde’s hand quivered as he drank, and when he sliced Zefirina’s sausage, he cut his hand and blood flowed between his fingers.
Puffball consoled Kunde in his badly slurred speech. ‘Have no fear! Just rub me into little pieces and sprinkle me on your wound, and the blood will stop flowing.’
His drunken babble made the dancers laugh, but Kunde was so moved that he shed tears. ‘My body is covered in wounds,’ he replied. ‘Thank goodness you’re here, Puffball! How else could I stop the bleeding?’
Andaur rarely drank but he was happy for his brother’s marriage and he also came over with a bowl of baijiu in his hand. Puffball patted him on the shoulder.
‘If I had two daughters that’d be great, a big Lyusya and a little Lyusya. I’d marry one to Viktor, and the other to you!’ said Puffball. ‘Then you brothers could marry on the same day!’
‘Which one would I marry?’ Andaur asked earnestly. ‘Big Lyusya or Little Lyusya?’
Even though Andaur was just about old enough to marry, his naïve temperament hadn’t changed, and you can imagine how amusing everyone found his question.
That night a doe remaining in the camp gave birth to a fawn. But none of us could have imagined it would be deformed.
Generally speaking, black reindeer don’t give birth to deformed fawns; it’s the white ones that tend to. If the impaired offspring is female, it symbolises good fortune, while a male symbolises disaster.
Such a fawn doesn’t live long, not usually more than three days. Yveline once described a deformed fawn as a ‘little ghost’ among the reindeer. When it dies, it can’t be discarded as unceremoniously as a human child. Red and blue strips of cloth must be attached to its ear, neck, waist and tail. Then an upright birch tree is selected, the fawn is hung from it, and a Shaman is requested to perform a Spirit Dance for it.
