Folk Tale: The Oroqen Tribe - Chapter 1

In the late Qing Dynasty, on the spine of the vast Northeastern land—the Greater Khingan Range—an endless, boundless forest resembled a secluded secret realm. Deep within, an Oroqen tribe quietly resided.

They followed the ancient way of life passed down by their ancestors, dwelling where deer roamed, regarding reindeer as their most loyal companions and closest family. Traversing the mountains and forests, they sustained their tribe’s existence through exquisite hunting skills and rich experience in gathering wild fruits and herbs. In every draw of the bow and arrow, every stoop to search, they practiced reverence and awe for heaven and earth, for all living beings, their souls resonating and closely intertwined with the pulse of the Changbai Mountains and Heilongjiang River.

Within the tribe, the young hunter Akui was renowned, acknowledged by all as the most outstanding divine archer. His figure was tall and straight, rooted to this land like a pine tree. Years of mountain and forest life had forged his bronze skin, and his taut muscles contained endless explosive power. On his face, a pair of eyes resembled falcons soaring through the heavens, sharp and deep, capable of penetrating layers of leaves to precisely pinpoint the whereabouts of prey. His agile posture was like a leopard in the forest, moving freely through rugged mountain paths and dense bushes, effortlessly scaling cliffs and leaping over rocks.

To him, this mountain forest was like his own courtyard; every blade of grass and every tree was a familiar old friend. Every trace of an animal or bird, no matter how subtle or hidden, could not escape his extremely keen perception, as if those imprints would actively tell him stories of the forest and reveal the whereabouts of prey.

It was the twelfth lunar month, in the depths of winter. The biting cold wind, laden with heavy snow, swept wantonly, enveloping the Greater Khingan Range layer by layer. The deep snow that sealed off the mountains was like a natural barrier, making it difficult for outsiders to access. Yet, it was also the perfect season for glossy, smooth mink fur and plump, precious deer antlers.

The elders in the tribe, having endured the vicissitudes of time, had bodies gradually eroded by the frost. They urgently needed the warmth of mink fur and the nourishment of deer antlers to survive these harsh cold years and perpetuate the flame of life. Akui took on this responsibility, carrying a sturdy bow on his shoulder, his quiver filled with sharp arrows. With his inseparable hunting dog “Hei Zai,” he resolutely ventured into the rarely visited depths of the ancient forest.

Hei Zai was as black as ink all over, except for a few white glints showing where his four hooves trod on the snow, like a dark night spirit. His sense of smell was extraordinarily keen, and he ran like the wind, making him Akui’s most capable assistant on his hunting expeditions.

One man and one dog trudged through waist-deep snow, each step stirring up large plumes of snow mist and emitting a “crunching” sound, breaking the long silence of the forest. They came to a tranquil mountain valley, a place seemingly forgotten by the world, where the surroundings were so quiet that time itself seemed to freeze. Only the subtle sounds of snowflakes rustling down and piling up, like the soft whispers of the forest, could be heard.

Suddenly, Hei Zai’s tail, which had been gently wagging, instantly stiffened. The fur on his back stood on end, and he barked incessantly at a thicket of bushes. His sharp, urgent barks instantly shattered the deadly silence of the valley. Akui’s expression tightened. Years of hunting had instinctively made him instantly alert. His movements were skilled and fluid as he nocked an arrow, drew his bow to a full moon, and crouched tautly, like a tiger lying in wait, his gaze piercing through the white snow, warily peering towards the bushes.

Behind the dense foliage, a strange silhouette flashed past, moving so fast it was almost illusory. Its outline at first resembled a deer, with an agile and light gait. But upon closer inspection, it also resembled a human figure, emanating a sense of eerie mystery, as if it were a visitor from an unknown world.

Akui was filled with curiosity. Without thinking much, he stepped forward to chase, snow splashing under his feet. Hei Zai, like an arrow released from a bow, darted ahead. But the mysterious figure seemed to merge with the forest, deeply familiar with every hidden corner. In an instant, it vanished without a trace, leaving behind only a string of strange footprints in the snow.

Akui bent down to examine them closely. The footprints were enormous, several times wider than ordinary deer hooves, and they were cloven-hoofed, deeply embedded in the snow. The edges of the hoof marks were sharp and clear, certainly not left by any common animal he knew. It was like a mysterious puzzle, quietly laid out in this ice and snow, filling Akui with doubt and a determination to get to the bottom of it.

Full of doubt and his curiosity piqued to the extreme, Akui trudged through knee-deep snow, following the string of mysterious cloven hoofprints. His gaze was fixed on the ground, fearful of missing even the slightest clue, as if he were deciphering a secret history of the forest. The snow underfoot was soft but hid dangers; sometimes hidden dead branches or ice holes caused him to stumble, but the obsession to uncover the truth drove him steadily forward.

Hei Zai followed closely, his nose pressed to the snow, occasionally raising his head to look around alertly, a low whimper rumbling in his throat, adding a touch of tension to the silent forest.

After climbing an unknown number of steep slopes and circling several ridges, Akui found a hidden cave beneath a secluded cliff. The cave entrance was like the gaping mouth of a sleeping giant, half-obscured by tangled vines and thick snow, only revealing faint wisps of light, like eerie will-o’-the-wisps, mysterious and inviting.

The vines, like the tentacles of an ancient python, intertwined and tangled, trembling in the cold wind. The snow piled up in irregular shapes, some melted by the warm air from inside the cave, then re-frozen into icicles, hanging upside down from the cave entrance like fangs.

Akui took a deep breath, calming the rapidly beating heart in his chest. He slowly drew the hunting knife from his waist, cautiously pushing aside the crisscrossing vines. The blade scraped against the vines, making a “rustling” sound. Every movement was light and steady, for fear of disturbing the “owner” of this unknown place.

Snow rustled down, stirring up icy snow mist. He crouched, squeezed sideways through the narrow entrance, and stepped into the cave.

Upon entering the cave, an old, decaying smell assailed him, like a mixture of rotting coffins and moldy damp earth, so strong it was choking. Akui couldn’t help but wrinkle his brow and raise a hand to cover his nose and mouth.

Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he looked around and saw that the cave walls were covered with mysterious symbols and crude murals. The symbols were winding like ancient vines, or perhaps like swimming tadpoles, exuding an ancient, mysterious aura, faintly imbued with fluctuations of power. The murals were mottled and dark in color, yet clearly depicted many familiar hunting scenes, only the protagonists were all that strange cloven-hoofed creature.

In some paintings, it leaped like the wind through the forest, its posture agile, raising a trail of dust as if racing with the wind. In others, it stood with its head held high, front hooves slightly bent, facing a high-hanging full moon, antlers pointing towards the heavens, as if in devout worship, its body seemingly enveloped in a faint halo, exuding sanctity and solemnity.

Akui’s gaze swept past these and focused on the center of the cave. There, a stone platform rose from the ground. The platform was rough but flat, as if naturally formed there, specifically to support some sacred object.

Upon it, lay a completely azure orb. Its blue color was like the clearest ice lake in the Greater Khingan Range during winter, or like the deepest, most profound indigo absorbed from the night sky, as if it condensed the millennium of winter’s chill from the entire Khingan mountain range, pure and profound.

The orb emanated a lingering chill, thread by thread like icy silk caressing his face. A soft blue glow diffused, illuminating the immediate vicinity, casting Akui’s shadow indistinctly on the cave wall.

As Akui lifted his feet and slowly approached the stone platform step by step, with each stride, he could feel the immense power contained within the orb more and more clearly, as if an invisible giant hand gripped his heart. The blood throughout his body seemed to sense that icy power, its flow slowing, almost congealing. A chill shot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, making his scalp tingle.

But intense curiosity and the innate desire for exploration within a hunter’s bones still made him reach out his hand, his fingertips trembling, just about to touch the orb.

In that instant, the atmosphere inside the cave abruptly changed. The space, which had been so quiet that only his breathing could be heard, suddenly filled with flying rocks. Large and small stones, like hidden weapons, whizzed and crashed from all directions.

At the same time, an eerie roar, like a sharp arrow, pierced his eardrums, echoing wildly within the cave, shaking dust from the cave walls. The mysterious figure from before, like a phantom, emerged from the shadows behind the stone platform. Now, illuminated by the blue light, it was clearly visible.

The creature was tall, its body agile and light like a deer, but it had a human face. Its skin was an eerie bluish-white, its features distorted as if pulled by pain and rage, blue veins protruding on its forehead like winding earthworms. Its fur was like a layer of fine silver frost, shimmering with a cold silver glow, every hair standing like a steel needle. Its eyes were like deep, cold pools, radiating a sinister green light, fixed intently on Akui, filled with warning and killing intent. Its antlers were thick and multi-branched, with edges sharp as peerless blades, gleaming coldly in the blue light, as if declaring its determination and power to guard this place.

Determining Akui, the outsider, had trespassed upon this sacred place, it ruthlessly raised its antlers, accompanied by a whooshing sound, like a silver lightning bolt, and attacked in a fury. Akui had no time to dodge. He instinctively leaned backward, but the tip of the antlers still grazed his arm. A wound instantly opened, blood gushing out. Drops of crimson blood splattered, falling precisely onto the orb.

Instantly, the orb seemed to be infused with life. The blue light surged like a raging tide, so dazzling it was almost blinding. The entire cave seemed to be struck by lightning. The earth shook, and rocks tumbled from the ceiling. Cracks appeared in the ground, like grotesque gaping mouths. It was as if an ancient prohibition had been triggered by the blood, releasing long-sealed power, threatening to swallow this uninvited guest and the uncontrolled situation.

Akui was almost suffocated by the sudden earthquake and surging blue light. The sharp pain from his arm wound was like a burning fire snake, piercing and gnawing at his bones, but his survival instinct and a hint of obsession with the unknown deep in his heart made him lunge towards the stone platform amidst the flying rocks. In the chaos, he seized the opportunity, enduring the dizziness and cold, and abruptly hugged the azure “Ice Spirit Orb” with both hands.

The orb was bone-chillingly cold to the touch, as if it wanted to drain all the warmth from his body, yet it strangely emitted a faint pulsation, like the whisper of an ancient, mysterious power. He clutched the orb tightly, hunching over and weaving through the rain of rocks, his feet stumbling. Relying on his vague memory of the cave’s path and Hei Zai’s guidance beside him, he narrowly escaped the cave.

Outside the cave, sunlight poured down, yet it could not dispel the chill around him. The mysterious creature stood at the cave entrance, a complex expression on its human-like face. After the anger subsided, only helplessness and sorrow remained. Its antlers drooped, their silver gleam dimmed. It did not pursue Akui again, but instead looked up at the sky, emitting cries of lament.

The sound pierced the silence of the forest, echoing through the valley, startling a flock of birds. It was as if it was accusing, or perhaps lamenting the capriciousness of fate. The long, drawn-out cry, imbued with a thousand years of protective mission and the current desolation of failure, lingered for a long time, adding a touch of bleakness to this snow-covered mountain.

Akui stumbled and staggered all the way back to the tribe. By then, his clothes were tattered, his face was exhausted, and the blood on his arm had dried, forming dark red scabs. Hearing of his return, the tribespeople gathered around, and their eyes all froze when they saw the orb radiating a faint blue cold light in his arms.

Akui walked directly towards the elders’ dwellings, which were several tents built with thick pine logs and covered with animal skins, rustic and exuding a sense of time’s accumulation.

Inside the tents, several elders sat around a bonfire, the firelight illuminating their wrinkled but wise faces. Akui stepped forward and respectfully presented the Ice Spirit Orb. The orb was placed on an animal skin rug, its blue light reflecting in the astonished expressions of the crowd.

The elders hastily flipped through the tribe’s several ancient, thick books with yellowed pages. These ancient texts were bound with birch bark, worn smooth by the passage of time, bearing many signs of handling. The characters and symbols on them were mysterious and obscure, carrying the tribe’s millennium of memories.

After a long time, the elders raised their heads, their eyes filled with solemnity and awe, and slowly recounted the origin of the Ice Spirit Orb. In ancient times, the Oroqen ancestors, with their sincere reverence for heaven and earth, made a sacred pact with the mountain god on the peak of Khingan. The Ice Spirit Orb came into being as a token, endowed with miraculous power. Holding it, one could command all the beasts of the forest, and at a thought, control the power of ice and snow, allowing winter blizzards to seal the mountains and protect the tribe’s peace, and spring’s warm sun to melt the snow and nourish the land, ensuring the proliferation of wild animals in the hunting grounds and the lushness of water and grass, leading to favorable weather and abundant hunting year after year.

However, time ruthlessly eroded everything. Dynasties changed, and affairs shifted. The sacrificial rituals gradually fell into disuse due to various factors such as wars and migrations. The mysterious and solemn dances, devout blessings, and specific regulations for special offerings were all sealed by time.

Furthermore, in the past, those with malicious intentions tried to monopolize the Spirit Orb and control nature, using it to satisfy their selfish desires and to dominate others, ultimately leading to disaster. Floods raged, epidemics ran rampant, and animal herds went wild, almost annihilating the tribe. The ancestors were heartbroken and had to use their great divine powers, gathering the strength of the entire tribe to seal the Ice Spirit Orb in a hidden cave, setting up numerous restrictions, hoping for future peace. They never imagined that today, by a stroke of destiny, Akui would bring it back into the world.

But the orb’s appearance seemed to break some subtle balance, and disasters around the tribe followed one after another.

First, the reindeer, usually as docile as lambs, suddenly turned red-eyed and trembled all over without warning, emitting terrified screams. They broke their tethers and galloped away, disappearing into the vast forest. These were important assets and traveling companions of the tribe. With the reindeer gone, many affairs came to a standstill. Immediately afterward, the hunting grounds, once bustling and frequently showing animal tracks, became desolate. Game animals sharply decreased. Occasionally, a few scrawny, solitary wild rabbits or pheasants were seen. A strange, deadly silence permeated the forest, as if it were covered by an invisible curse.

The tribespeople whispered among themselves, and rumors gradually began to spread, with fingers pointing at Akui. They accused him of taking the Spirit Orb without permission and acting rashly, thus angering the mountain god and bringing about such misfortune. Akui heard this, and shame washed over him like a tide, almost drowning him. Every strange look, every word of complaint, was like a heavy hammer striking his heart.

He clenched his fists, secretly vowing to make amends. Without waiting for others to say more, he returned to his dwelling, packed his belongings, prepared dry rations, and, with Hei Zai, once again resolutely entered the deep, old forest.

Before leaving, he gently stroked Hei Zai’s head and looked towards the cloud-shrouded forest, his gaze firm: “Old pal, we need to figure this out and bring peace back to the tribe.” Hei Zai barked, as if responding, and then led the way, charging into the forest path. His figure quickly disappeared among the dappled tree shadows. Akui took a deep breath, strode after him, his figure gradually receding, leaving only a string of footprints in the snow, filled with unyielding spirit and responsibility.

In that maze-like forest that blotted out the sky, Akui and Hei Zai painstakingly traversed, step by step, as if measuring their own path to redemption. Time flowed mercilessly. With the rise and fall of the sun and moon, their dry rations dwindled day by day until their pouches were empty, leaving only a few crumbs. Each swallow of saliva felt like sandpaper grating his throat; thirst and hunger, like two hungry wolves, ceaselessly tore at his body and mind. The animal skin clothes he wore could not withstand the bone-chilling cold of the night. The biting wind, like icy needles, pierced his skin through the seams. He hugged himself tightly, curled up in tree hollows or makeshift shelters of dry branches, his teeth chattering from the cold. His legs were numb from cold and exhaustion, refusing to obey.

After enduring an unknown number of days and nights, Akui, in a daze, dragged his leaden legs to the edge of an icy lake. The icy lake, like a giant silver mirror, lay peacefully in the low-lying valley, shimmering with a dreamlike cold light under the generous moonlight. Akui, forcing his exhausted body and heavy eyelids to stay awake, looked up. In an instant, the ice surface seemed to be awakened by a mysterious hand, and scenes of past tribal sacrifices slowly emerged.

In the images, tribespeople, dressed in elaborate attire, meticulously decorated with animal skins and colorful feathers, wearing antler crowns, were solemn and reverent. They gathered around a roaring bonfire, their dances nimble and orderly, advancing and retreating, waving their arms as if communicating with heaven and earth. The old shaman stood on a high platform, chanting incantations. The ancient, mysterious blessings, transcending time, subtly echoed in Akui’s ears. Although blurred and hard to distinguish, they exuded reverence and piety. Women arranged birch bark vessels filled with wild fruits, fresh fish, and roasted meat. Children held flower garlands, their laughter filled with gratitude for nature’s bounty. It turned out this was a place where remnants of the Ice Spirit Orb’s memories lingered; it had witnessed the tribe’s glorious and devout years and deeply held the key to the pact with the mountain god.

Hope instantly ignited in Akui’s eyes. He roused his spirits. Disregarding the pain of his frozen hands and bursting wounds, with his already numb fingers, he laboriously broke off tree branches of suitable thickness, meticulously bundling and securing them with animal skin ropes to build a simple altar. Although not as splendid and exquisite as the past tribal sacrifices, it poured out all his heartfelt efforts and remorseful prayers. He carefully held the Ice Spirit Orb from his embrace. The orb glowed with a faint blue light under the moonlight, as if whispering of the past. He gently placed it on the altar, then picked up his hunting bow, and, bracing his weakened body, disappeared into the forest.

For a long time, relying on his exquisite archery skills and his last ounce of tenacity, he hunted the fattest roe deer. The roe deer had glossy fur and still-lively eyes, but it was unfortunately destined to be a sacrifice. He also carefully searched and gathered tender, juicy wild fruits from the surrounding bushes and small trees, some red like fire, others purple like dusk, placing them abundantly around the altar. Everything was ready. Akui knelt down with a thud, his forehead touching the ground, his hands clasped and raised above his head. His voice was hoarse but sincere as he poured out his heart to the majestic Khingan mountains and the ethereal, unknown mountain god.

He repented his recklessness, blaming himself for breaking the peace guarded by his ancestors due to curiosity and ignorance. He prayed for the mountain god’s forgiveness, willing to return the troublesome Ice Spirit Orb, hoping the mountain god would withdraw its anger and bless the tribe to return to its former harmony, letting the hunting grounds once again be vibrant with life, and the reindeer safely return to the herd, bringing laughter to children and well-being to elders. His prayers echoed in the empty valley, every word carried by the cold wind, drifting into the depths of the forest.

In an instant, a furious wind roared in, as if the mountain god was responding. The solid ice on the lake could not withstand this immense power and shattered with a thunderous sound. Cracks like grotesque lightning bolts appeared. The lake water, as if lifted by an invisible giant hand, shot skyward, instantly congealing into a towering ice pillar, crystal clear, refracting colorful light. The Ice Spirit Orb floated up, like a star returning to its place, integrating into the core of the ice pillar. In that instant, it glowed with ten thousand rays of light. Brilliant blue light and transparent ice crystals intertwined, illuminating the entire Greater Khingan Range, penetrating the dense forest leaves, dispelling every trace of dark gloom.

The forest was like an awakened orchestra. All the animals roared in unison: tigers roared through the forest, deer cried long and melodiously, wolves howled with boldness. One after another, they played a hymn to nature. The mysterious creature stepped out of the light and shadow. Its figure was still tall, but its human face was no longer ferocious, filled instead with auspiciousness. Its antlers lightly touched the base of the ice pillar, and threads of light permeated into the earth. The hunting grounds, once barren and lifeless, where birds and beasts had vanished, instantly burst forth with new life: green grass broke through the soil, bushes sprouted branches, wild rabbits hopped, and deer herds galloped. In the distance, the reindeer herd, as if mysteriously summoned, returned in formation, stepping leisurely, their bells gently chiming, colorful ribbons fluttering around their necks. The fear in their eyes was replaced by docility. Above the tribe, the dark clouds that had lingered for days dissipated. Disaster, like light smoke, vanished with the wind.

As the light gently and gradually receded, the ice pillar slowly transformed into a gurgling stream, flowing softly, nourishing the troubled land beneath. Wherever it flowed, flowers and grasses swayed, and the soil was fragrant. The Ice Spirit Orb quietly disappeared, as if it had returned to the mountain god’s embrace, leaving no trace. The silver glow around the creature receded, transforming into a stooped old man with a human form but eyes like burning torches. His hair was white, and his face was etched with wrinkles that told stories of time. He held a bone flute and handed it to Akui. The bone flute was made from a thick animal bone, finely polished, with evenly spaced holes. Mysterious patterns were carved into the flute body, as if it contained the secret whispers of the forest.

The old man’s voice was like a booming bell, yet full of kindness: “Child, your sincere heart is witnessed by heaven and earth. I give you this flute. In the future, when you play it, you can communicate with all the beasts and pray for the forest. I hope you and your tribe will protect this Khingan land and no longer let disaster approach.” With that, the old man’s figure slowly vanished into the lush forest, leaving only Akui, holding the bone flute, tears streaming down his face.

Akui returned to the tribe with the bone flute, his heart full of joy, his steps light. In the tribe, upon hearing that the reindeer had returned and the hunting grounds had recovered, the tribespeople cheered and ran to tell each other. Children gathered around Akui, curiously examining the bone flute, their eyes full of longing. Thereafter, every hunting season, before the gentle sound of bowstrings in the forest, Akui would first play the bone flute. Its melodious and winding sound would drift, prompting the beasts to tacitly give way, guiding the direction of the hunt. During harvest season, the flute’s sound was leisurely, as if giving thanks for nature’s bounty. Humans and beasts coexisted in harmony, each following their own path.

The tribe followed their ancestral teachings, meticulously remembering this legend. Whenever there were bonfire talks or children’s enlightenments, the story would be recounted in detail. That mysterious spirit orb, the ancient mountain god, the brave Akui, and the magical bone flute became an immortal chapter in the Oroqen spirit, woven into the nation’s bloodline, passed down from generation to generation, guarding this land of white mountains and black waters, continuing the thousand-year bond with nature.