1. Winds in Snow Mountains

 

This is the home of snow,

the mother of mountains,

and the cradle of rivers and lakes.

 

The sky is extremely blue and clouds are particularly white. The passionate sun is pouring force flame and flowers are shining with bewitching charm.

 

Saturating in the all-pervasive sunlight, air seems to have been coated with a colorful flavor, flowing out enchanting hues in purple, verdant and rainbow colors.

 

The towering snow mountains soar up into clouds and snow-shed peaks glisten in wintery light. Gorges roll in twists and glaciers flow with mighty power. There are also boundless land and vast expanse of desert. Such a sharp contrast is like experiencing polar regions on opposite sides of the globe, enjoying majestic beauty and splendid vistas at the same time.

 

At the bottom of glaciers gurgle surging waters, rushing along the course. From here turbulent waters flow out and compose a never-ending epic of Chinese civilization.

 

Boundless forests at the foot of snow mountains stretch along undulating hills, sending up green waves with flourishing vitality.

 

A raven steed flashed into view. The low-ridged horse, with a firm abdomen, was as tough as a strong bow. It galloped at full speed toward the summit of the mountain, with iron hooves clattering on the rocks.

 

Closely against horseback, the rider would look up at cyan ridges and bright ice dams when the horse jumped. Until then one could tell the rider was a woman, a swarthy but beautiful woman.

 

She had melted into the mountains

 

In front was the last steep ravine, on which spooky rocks rising in twists. She tapped on the horse''s neck and said,

 

"Black boy, galloping up to the mountain top makes a good horse! Go!"

 

Crying towards the sky, the horse hoofed fiercely with its hind feet as if had got the message of the rider. As its whinny still echoed across the valley, the horse has leaped onto the ridge and tripped happily with little steps.

 

The rider dismounted from the horse. Ignoring sweat on her face, she took the horse''s wet neck with left hand, stuffed candies to its mouth and said,

"Well-done, well-done!"

 

The black horse raised its neck in a proud air, shaking its head and waving its mane to break her arms. She was roared with laughter.

 

Only at such time, she could temporarily step out of her absorption in grief and let her inner-heart pleasure be alive. She felt just now it was not the horse but she galloping up the hill, laying out all strength and wearing with sweats. She devoted over ten years to cultivating tough horses for riding on rugged mountain paths in western Sichuan province. The horse-breeding work was a comfort to her, but to be more accurate, it was her "hobby". She picked "Black boy" for this special-journey mission and intended to test it during the trudge.

 

Thunders rolled from distance. Flying snow bubbles and whirling clouds in the valley made up a misty scene. Instantly, a stream of colorful snow and fog came out from nowhere. The whole view was a riot of colors, like a colorful comet, dragging its long tail and springing at the ridge.

 

Leng Xiujun hastily led the horse under the ridge to seek shelter. While before she could stand firm, fierce wind, accompanied with snow, had swept across the ridge in a whistling sound. When Leng opened eyes, another gust of wind rolled over, sweeping to the dark ghost valley westward in the chase for the previous one.

 

Wind here was also like thunderbolt, featuring both sound and color. It stormed in an instant, sometimes sweeping for ten to fifteen days while sometimes vanishing quickly.

 

Winds in snow mountains were full of artistic appeal. For a newcomer, one day of exposure to the wind would be enough to left the cheeks peach-red—a tanned mark of the plateau. Wearing such a mark one would be warmly welcomed by the plateau to enjoy its bold caresses and the dreamy wonderland.

 

Ice dam was blocking the way in front. After a winter-long exposure to wind and rock, as well as heat and smoke when explosives were blasted, the ice dam became shiny black and would be easily mixed up with rocks standing at mountain pass but for its smooth surface. Xi''er tribe lived at the valley bottom and their only connection with outside world was through the mountain pass, also where the snowstorms found their way into the tribe. Even at scorching days in June, there would be towering ice dam. It took dozens of times of blasts to break an opening in the ice dam.

 

The mountain pass was once again blocked by ice dam and only a winding path was passable. Neatly wrapping horseshoes with fabric, Leng Xiujun held the reins and set foot on ice rocks in a spanking but cautious pace. The horse was rather confident at first; but when glancing down at the abyss, it was too timid to walk. Leng Xiujun was dazed at this moment because even a slight stagger would be disastrous when marching on such a narrow ice-path. Meanwhile the horse might be startled when haled or yelled.