Called to Gobi

by D. I. Telbat

  "Easy, boy," I said, coaxing him aloud. Lucky Hunter glanced up at me. "I see them. Let them watch us. We're not going to give them any weakness to exploit."

  But I knew the wolves wouldn't need much of a weakness in order to attack, not if they were starving. The cold weather had sent all other game deep into the forest or burrows. The wolves' stomachs would overwhelm their cautious minds and they could attack. Gan-gaad had told me that. In summer, a wolf might get close out of curiosity. In winter, curiosity gave way to hunger, and even people could become prey.

  After waiting until Sembuuk and the others caught up to me, the four of us trotted to catch up with the determined clan. I didn't like being separated from Zima, but we each had our duties. As often as we could, we talked and prayed together. Usually, however, the children gave her little space.

  The north pass now loomed above us, and I realized it was no lower in elevation than the ridge we'd climbed the day before. However, this pass had more snow suffocating its passageway. The others saw it, too, and though they said nothing of it, I wondered if we had made the right choice by coming this way. It was so steep! And with such little space to traverse between the rocky, vertical walls meant we'd have to tackle the climb nearly straight up.

  That night, we set up camp at the base of the pass. I helped the others set up their gers as Gan-gaad and Jugder rode ahead to scout the pass that Dusbhan had recommended over the other. When they returned, we had the horses scrubbed down and grained, the gers were up, and the meat was being cooked.

  "My nephew was right," Gan-gaad beamed. "We can make this pass. By tomorrow afternoon, we'll be in the lowlands, picking tropical fruit off green trees."

  We laughed with him at his optimism. Exhausted, we crowded into the few gers we had. Two men were on watch, armed with gnarled clubs to whack the wolves should they venture too close. Any fire that burned through the night was sheltered behind the gers and brush so the flicker wouldn't be seen from afar.

  I'd spoken with the men at dinner that evening about our earlier talk at the cave. A few wanted more time to think about taking God more seriously into their lives, and Gan-gaad said he would talk to me when we were alone in the morning.

  Finally, Zima and I had a chance to speak privately, though we were crowded into the same ger with Beveg, Manai, and Kandal. Exhausted, they slept beside us.

  "All day I watched the sky, longing for Jesus," Zima whispered. "Do you think it will be soon?"

  "In his first letter to the Thessalonians, Paul explains how the saints will be spared the great wrath to come. The wrath is judgement and punishment intended for the wicked and unrepentant. While we have difficulties and persecutions now, we as believers—His saints—are being spared the great wrath and will continue to be spared the wrath to come. Look at how God has preserved a remnant the last few weeks. We have suffered through some of man's wrath, but soon, they will feel God's wrath. It's amazing, Zima, like He's allowing us to stay on earth up until the absolute last minute to give every last person a chance at salvation. That's why He leaves a few of us here, I believe. We must be close to the end. Nearly all of the clan has been saved."

  "What if someone in the clan is left behind?"

  I touched her sincere face.

  "Tomorrow, we'll share Christ with those who have yet to profess. We'll challenge them with warnings as the Word instructs us: 'We who are alive and remain will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.' It doesn't get much clearer than that."

  "Let the Chinese come upon our camp and find nothing except the dogs and horses!" she said, giggling excitedly.

  "I love you, Zima." I kissed her.

  "I love you, Pond."

  #######

  The next morning, I rose early to pray, read my Bible, and update my journal to the latest happenings, of which you read now. The Chinese were sure to realize the deception of our trail by now, but they would be at least another day behind us, if they'd followed the false trail for a few hours. And then they'd need to backtrack, doubling the hours they weren't on our real trail.

  God also put it in my mind to be aware, if nothing else, that the Chinese might use their radios to call ahead for an intercepting force once they figured out where we were going. Should we expect an ambush on the other side of the pass in the next valley? Or could there be an air strike from one of the many bombers flying so burdened to and from Russia? Danger seemed inescapable. I kept these thoughts to myself and didn't share them even with Zima. God knew what lay ahead, and that was that.

  "I've decided," Gan-gaad suddenly interrupted my journal writing.

  The camp was coming to life around us as they packed and saw to the horses. Gan-gaad sat down beside me on a low rock.

  "What have you decided?" I asked.

  "It makes me nervous, but I have nothing else, you understand." He held up his palms. "Nothing left. So, I have decided to receive this Jesus as the God who delivers us—the cross, the blood, heaven, all of it. He has really washed my sins away?"

  "That's what the Bible says, and it has never misguided anyone yet."

  "Then, what do I do? What did Dusbhan and Kandal and Zima do?"

  "I thought you'd never ask."

  Together, we prayed, and the whole camp saw us on the side of the camp with our heads bowed together, and our arms over each other's shoulders. Hard-hearted Gan-gaad, the murderer, received Christ that morning. He didn't weep, but he confessed, and I witnessed, as he pled sincerely for God to save him from the penalty of sin.

  The camp tensed as we heard a galloping horse approach. It was Sembuuk. He'd ridden out before first light to check our back trail.

  "They're two kilometers back!" he gasped. "To make up for lost time, they marched through the night!"

  "That's madness!" Gan-gaad said. "They'll kill themselves from exhaustion!"

  "We need to move now." I limped my way through the camp, helping where I could as everyone dashed about frantically.

  My horse was saddled and Gan-gaad pulled the first string of pack animals up the pass where a grim game trail snaked. It looked as if it were accessible only for a mountain goat. The horses and those riding went up the narrow trail next since horses lunge and scramble almost recklessly up such inclines. Twice, a packhorse lead rope broke and the animal rolled backwards down the trail. But serious injury was avoided, and the animal jumped up and rushed forward through the pass, as if embarrassed it had ever lost its footing in the first place.

  I sat on my mount at the top of the pass beside the trail as those on foot trekked past.

  "Yes, that's what I told my wife last night," a man from Middle Camp said as he walked by with Zima. On his back was a child, his wife next to him. "If stubborn Gan-gaad prays to God for his sins, I told her, then we would, too!"

  They moved on, then I heard Jugder and Kandal discussing salvation as well. And if I wasn't mistaken, I'd say they were cheery, even with smiles on their faces as they pushed forward.

  Thankfully, none of the others looked back down the steep trail that had taken an hour to climb. But I looked back. At the site of our camp from the night before, two columns of men were marching. Once the soldiers reached the top of the pass behind us, with us descending below them, they'd be able to fire down at us at will. As if matters weren't bad enough, the sky was beginning to cloud up. Snow was in the air. The pursuing soldiers were probably marching themselves to death, but not before they sent us to a cold grave first. I suspected their gear and food was depleted by now. They had to catch us for our own supplies, or die trying.

  Turning my back to the troops, I scurried up the trail to our pass. While the clan was busy traveling and talking about God's preservation, my own faith faltered. Had we come through so much and so far to die horrible, cruel deaths below a mountain pass? Where was our deliverance?

  The clan suddenly stopped moving. What now?

  I squeezed my horse down a gradual grade to meet Gan-gaad panting and horseless, coming up to
find me near the rear.

  "Soldiers are at the bottom of the mountain, Pond! Looks like infantry." He shook his head as others gathered around. "There's no getting around them. We'll have to go back through the pass, maybe find another route on our back trail."

  "We can't!" I gritted my teeth. "They're already starting up the trail behind us. Within the hour they'll be above us in the pass."

  In silence, the clan of about fifteen watched and waited for me to make a decision as to our fate.

  Eyeing the sky, I searched for direction. Lord, what should we do? It was growing darker by the minute and it wasn't but mid-morning. My eyes fell upon the faces of my friends, all of whom I believed to be brothers and sisters in Christ now.

  "Look . . . a crevice . . . over there." I pointed to the right of the trail. "And an overhang. Everyone into it!"

  "But the horses, Pond!" Beveg said, voicing everyone's concern.

  "It's okay. Take what gear you can carry and turn the horses loose. The Chinese will eat the horses and maybe they'll leave us alone. Jugder, stay close to me so we can communicate with them if we have an opportunity."

  "Everyone . . . into the rock!" Gan-gaad ordered and led the way.

  We swatted the horses on the rumps and sent them scattering. The clan filed into what could've been a rocky cave shaped like a tunnel if the ceiling connected all the way to the downhill slope. But since it didn't, a mean draft coursed through the incomplete hall of stone, a wind so cold from the north that we could only face it and shiver. Everyone crowded to the end of the ledge and took a seat, shoulder to shoulder. They passed out blankets and smoked meat and talked quietly amongst themselves.

  I knelt before each member of the clan, one at a time, met each one's gaze, and grasped their hands.

  "God sees us even now," I said, reassuring them and myself. "You have taken Christ's gift into your heart?"

  Each one answered positively, even the children, and we prayed together as one, all of us, led first by me, then Zima, then Kandal.

  With brave hearts and our backs against the rock, we sat in the crevice, and it's this final entry I believe I'll make before our end with the Chinese.

  Seven-fingered Jugder, who speaks fluent Chinese, sits on my left. Lucky Hunter has draped himself across my legs. Zima's hands are wrapped around my arm, even now as I write. We have loved each other faithfully, as man and wife, though briefly. Beside her, Sembuuk, the hunter, dozes and mumbles in his sleep. I know he misses his eagle.

  Next to Sembuuk sits Gan-gaad, who is talking to Manai. Manai is laughing as he listens to a hunting tale of a Gobi bear and a man in the desert who cuddle together for warmth during the nights. It's a fitting story for us here in this drafty crevice.

  And so I close. Since the Chinese are nearly upon us, I wish now I knew the Chinese language and my story was filled with their words here to read instead of my native language. Perhaps, somehow, this will be preserved. Perhaps a reader among them will be touched by the mighty hand of God in my life. He changed me, and I saw Him change so many others—this whole clan, in fact, my clan. And I'm joyful beyond words to have been so used.

  If I could serve Him again, I would.

  In His Name and service, Andrew "Pond" Foworthy

  *~*

  Conclusion

  It so happens, I did find this journal, though not its writer. I knew Andy, so, following the orders of my superiors, I pursued the rebel band of Kazakhs and Mongols into the Gobi Altay Mountains. Near starvation ourselves, we marched through the night to overtake the band at a steep mountain pass.

  We certainly had them trapped since we had the only known approaches and exits to the pass blocked, but what we found was not only confusing, it was downright haunting!

  In a narrow crag, we found the last of the rebels' belongings, and a mangy dog that lay near boots I recognized. The Christians seemed to have abandoned all, even clothes and packs, in a last effort to flee up or down the cliffs and hide in the rocks. The troops with me killed their horses and ate the meager food they'd left behind. Thereafter, we searched for a week, whereupon we nearly starved to death a second time—and some did—but we never found a single rebel or even a fleeting trace of anyone.

  Since I was the only one of my soldiers—and a sergeant at that—who reads and speaks English, I kept this journal without argument from the others. This journal is the second of two books that I now value beyond life itself, and both have changed my life since reading them.

  The first is the Bible.

  And, yes, having read both books, and having heard news reports from around the world that millions of others have vanished, I do now understand what has happened.

  The world is in upheaval around me. The water turns crimson and the sun is blotted out by ash. Millions upon millions have died. But I'm still alive, for now. I've gone to great pains to see this book in print and distributed, regardless of the strife involved—and not only this book, but Bibles as well.

  Once, in a drunken rage, I nearly killed Andy for his boots. Now, having only spoken to him two or three times, I count him a close friend—and even a brother. By his life, he led me to the One who saves souls.

  Sincerely, Sergeant Xing

  ###

  *~*

  Character Sketch

  Andrew "Pond" Foworthy – bold, daring, 6-foot-tall native of NYC; called to Mongolia; spends time with two different clans—a Mongolian clan and a Kazakh clan

  Duulgii – Lugsalkhaan's half-Russian brother-in-law, Kazakh clan

  Dusbhan – Gan-gaad's nephew and gunman, Mongolian clan; adopted brother of Zima

  Gan-gaad – Mongolian clansman chief who hates foreigners

  Jugder – large Kazakh with only two fingers on his right hand

  Li Chong – Chinese interrogator

  Lugsalkhaan – head of a Buddhist Kazakh clan

  Luyant – Gan-gaad's brother and mute clansman, Mongolian clan; owner of Zima

  Kandal – elderly Kazakh nomad

  Manai – orphaned 5-year-old boy, Kazakh clan

  Randy Erickson – American missionary for 20 years to Eastern Mongolia

  Rex – American pilot from Eastern Turkey

  Sembuuk – skilled Kazakh hunter

  Sergeant Xing – Chinese infantry officer

  Zima – Russian-Kazakh woman, owned by clansman Luyant, Mongolian clan

  *~*

  Glossary

  Aduu – stocky horse with large head, thick hair, and bushy mane; forages for food even when in domestic care

  Del – ankle-length, loose-fitting felt or hide coat

  Genghis Khan – 13th Century Mongolian Emperor

  Ger – portable round tent; wood frame, covered in thick felt in winter, light canvas in summer

  Gobi – an area of arid range land

  Mongolia – three times the size of France, mostly high plateau, landlocked by China and Russia; known as Land of Blue Sky because of 257 cloudless days per year

  Morin-khuur – two-stringed lute with wooden sound box and neck scroll carved in shape of a horse's head

  Steppe – belt of grassland extending across the country.

  Tatlaga – instrumental music with melody, rhythm, and timbre (tone quality) to tell a story

  Toono - small hole in the ceiling of gers to expel smoke; also allows sun and air into the shelter

  Tugrik – Mongolia's currency (1,000 tugriks = $1.00 USD)

  Ulaanbaater – Mongolia's capital; means "Red Hero"

  Urtyn duu – means "long song"; a song form with each syllable extended for long duration in guttural style, requiring great skill

  *~*

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  Visit Novel Update News for latest news on current and upcoming D.I. Telbat books.