Seeing that they had not bought much, the merchant left in relief.
The herdsmen had none of the chief's or merchant's twists and turns. Having received kindness from Miao He and Tao Yanbai, they liked them. When the two left, the herdsmen were reluctant to part, and the children even brought out all sorts of treasured toys to give them.
Most of them were beautiful stones of every kind.
Miao He liked them too. She chose a few to accept and politely declined the rest.
It was not until they reached the third tribe that they met the young man from the tales—the one unlucky enough to catch pox, yet lucky enough to survive.
On the grasslands, every smallpox outbreak was a catastrophe. Only his case had been an exception.
He had discovered the pox while herding alone. Without hesitation, he refused all contact with others, packed up his own tent, and left with ten days' worth of dried provisions.
Alone with a single tent, he hid on a hill. Thirteen days later, his face covered in pockmarks and his body reduced to skin and bones, he reappeared. The illness had passed.
He had stubbornly endured it all on his own.
Moreover, he had not contaminated the water source. Even the wind had not carried the smallpox from his body to infect other livestock or people.
When the young man returned home safely, the entire tribe regarded him as a god. He had already been named the tribe's next chief.
The herdsmen believed he had been favored by the gods and possessed both courage and wisdom. He would surely become an exceptionally formidable chief.
His name was Batu Mengku. He had a round face and round head, with an honest, simple-looking expression.
When Miao He and Tao Yanbai came to