The Sierra Madre Occidental stretched for thousands of li, extending from the northwest toward the southeast, dividing the endless eastern wasteland from the extremely narrow coast to the west. Rivers flowed down from the mountains and merged westward into the sea, bringing verdure and vitality to the coast. And the farther north one went, the more streaks of grayish yellow appeared amid the green life of the mountains and plains. That was exposed loess, earth no longer covered by plants.
As far as the eye could see, the Northern Continent had a different kind of vast desolation. Rolling barren hills lay silent for a thousand li, sparse shrubs grew more and more numerous, and the rainfall was clearly decreasing. At the end of his sight, a broad, surging Great River rushed in from the west, made a ninety-degree bend, then charged toward the western sea. Dimly, there was another alluvial floodplain at the river mouth, an untilled tribal hunting ground rich with water and grass...
"By the witness of the Three Gods! I am the last Tarasco God-descendant, the last bloodline of the Divine Eagle! Follow me, Feather, and you will definitely survive!... Don't rush. We are tracing the road our ancestors took south, returning to the nest where the feathered bird first took flight, returning to the river at the legendary golden mountain pass!... Don't be afraid! No matter how much the Mexica People are sheltered by evil gods, they cannot cover the first ancestral land... The ancestors bless us! Follow me, keep heading northwest! There will be food in the northwest!..."
"Ah! By the witness of the ancient craftsman god! My mother was a Tecos God-descendant, so naturally I am also a Tecos God-descendant! You Tecos tribes and I are one family!... What, you're almost out of food