Poor
Seeing that he had instantly provoked everyone's anger, Brudo, the chief of the Taigema Tribe, hurriedly put on a fawning smile and said, "Heh heh, don't get angry, don't get angry. I'm not making this money just for myself. How about I take out one hundred dollars to support the rain prayer? How does that sound? That's one hundred dollars!"
One tribe had turned against eight others—not even counting the Chinese who had yet to state their position or the Hosenmas Tribe that had come with them.
Brudo, who had always worn the face of a calculating merchant, was panicking like crazy inside.
Kemara, the chief of the Night Eagle Tribe and one of the original eight tribal chiefs, said coldly, "Only one hundred dollars? Brudo, you made a thousand dollars. If you want our forgiveness, you should take it all out."
The name "Night Eagle" came from an ancient local language. Since its pronunciation was rather obscure, translating it directly into Chinese made it easier to understand.
The tribe still maintained its primitive matriarchal leadership. Its chief was a woman who openly bared her chest without the slightest concern, yet no one would keep staring.
The Chinese certainly would not take a second look. With the dark natives' physiques and their age, taking one more look would damn well give you nightmares.
Only those who were desperate enough to eat anything would be interested in the women of the Night Eagle Tribe. The latter were usually more than happy to oblige, but it often ended with the men being beaten to a pulp. After all, there was plenty of meat but too few wolves to divide it among.
Single-handedly venturing into a tiger's den out of personal heroism was simply asking for death in the Night Eagle Tribe.