On the bitterly cold northern earth, amid the Tungus tribes locked in endless slaughter, only the gods' "blood oath" could build that rare thing called "trust" between two tribes that barely knew each other.
The process of the "blood oath" was not complicated. Maha Aguda and Zuwaro drank Blood Wine in great gulps, tore into the same piece of raw meat, and warmed themselves at the same fire. And yet it was the warriors' drunken war dances and war cries, the wrestling bouts between brave men, that lasted until everyone in the camp had laid down their weapons, stripped off their armor, and fallen asleep without guard or suspicion.
"The Horse-Users have gone, the Deer-Users have come, the Dog-Users are holed up in the woods without moving..."
"Roe-deer skins are in the forest, fish skins by the river, pig skins farther south..."
"All the tribes, oh! They're all like dogs, bleeding in the woods, drinking by the river, sleeping by the fire, men and women howling and yowling..."
The Nivkh headman sat cross-legged on the big boat, watching the firelight and celebration on the shore, and slowly began to sing. The length and splendor of this journey had far exceeded his first expectations.
He had witnessed two powerful tribes go from a hostile first meeting, to fighting shoulder to shoulder, to a blood oath of alliance. And what changes would all this bring to the vast forests downstream along this great river? Perhaps, for the moment, nothing would change at all. Or perhaps time was change's friend, letting seeds grow into towering trees~
"Mountain God, oh! How cold will this winter be?... The tribes in the forest, who knows whether they've dug their burrows to hide from the wind and snow..."
Snow fell with a soft rustle, laying a sheen