A clear brook flowed down from the distant mountains, tasting of the crisp chill of snowmelt and the sweetness of the hills.
There was no need to say much about the natural environment of the Kamchatka Peninsula. This vast land of 470,000 square kilometers, fully fifteen times the size of Eastern Barbarian Island, currently held only a little over ten thousand tribespeople of the Mountain Tribe and Deer Tribe. For thousands of years, human activity had never left any permanent change on this magnificent peninsula. The wooden huts in the mountains, the tents, and the migrating tribespeople were like the Deer-Hair Horse that easily shed from the Kamchatka Reindeer—coming and going, going and coming, endlessly living on.
"Zidiao! Zidiao!!..."
Losanda crossed the meadow, passed through the sparse trees, and went all the way to the foot of the vast mountains. The stream was his marker for finding the way, while that pale-green potato field beside the stream looked only the size of a palm from afar. The dozens of busy tribespeople were even only as large as ants. And the first to discover him were the keen and clever Siberian Huskies. These lively big dogs ran out several hundred meters and, from far away, bared their teeth at Losanda and barked wildly.
"Awooo! Awooo!..."
"...Who's there?"
"Zidiao, it's me!..."
The young woman had long arms and long legs. She was not exceptionally beautiful, but she was spirited and pleasant to look at. Carrying a bow and arrows, with a short axe tied to her, she looked warily into the forest for a while. Then she froze, rubbed her eyes in disbelief, and asked hesitantly.
"Lo? Is that you?..."
"Yes! It's me. I'm back!..."
"Ah! You're back!..."
The reunion after a long parting was not dazzling. Losanda and Mu Zidiao sat