Chapter 466 - 330: Guests
The sudden influx of people into the camp caused a severe staff shortage, and even Wawa was pulled out to act as a temporary tour guide.
He was tasked with leading the chiefs of the Far North Tundra Tribe on a tour of the Crown Territory. The group stopped before a Melting Ice River, and Wawa pointed to the opposite bank and said,
"Elders, a little further ahead is the camp of the Athabaskan Bear Tribe, and the Crown Territory ranch."
"What?"
Hearing this, the group of tribal chiefs couldn’t help but cry out in alarm.
"The Bear Tribe’s camp? What right do the Indians have to a camp in the Crown Territory?" Louise of Kivalina’s eyes widened, her face a mask of disbelief.
Wevok Chief Kitto shouted, "By the Spirit of All Things, to think there are Indians on this sacred land!"
In that instant, a wave of uncontrollable anger surged through the other Inuit Tribe chiefs.
’Why can the Indians live in a sacred place like the Crown Territory, but we Inuit People can’t?’
This unfair arrangement filled the chiefs with indignation, and their hearts burned with rage.
The vast and bitterly cold region of the Far North Tundra was largely considered Inuit reservation land.
But this wasn’t because the land was bountiful. Quite the opposite, it was utterly destitute.
The climate was unbearably harsh. During the long, frigid winters, temperatures would often plummet to dozens of degrees below zero, and fierce winds whipped up blizzards that raged like wild beasts.
The environment was just as terrible. It was a vast ice plain with nothing but ice and snow, leaving extremely limited space for survival.
Resources were even scarcer. Obtaining enough food, fuel, and other necessities required immense effort.
If they hadn’t been defeated in a tribal war over ten thousand years ago and driven by the Indians all the way to the Arctic Circle like a herd of reindeer, who would willingly live such a harsh life for generations, "facing the Ice Sea with their backs to the snow"?
In the winter, you even had to carry a stick when you went out to take a piss, just to stop the stream from freezing solid in an instant.
’Then again, the Indians didn’t fare much better. They drove us Inuit away and seized vast, fertile lands, living what seemed like a glorious life. But the wheels of history are merciless. In the end, they too were slaughtered by the white man like livestock. Under the white man’s bloody oppression and persecution, the Indians were even brought to the brink of annihilation.’
Whenever the Inuit thought of this, they couldn’t help but sneer inwardly.
’Why didn’t the white man come to the Arctic Circle to steal their land? It was because the environment was too harsh, with nothing to profit from.’
’And now, these Indians are trying to get their hands on the Crown Territory.’
Just as the chiefs were lost in their complex emotions, a faint tremor started in the ground beneath their feet. It grew steadily stronger, like the beating pulse of the earth, signaling the approach of a large herd of animals.
The chiefs instinctively looked in the direction of the vibrations. Aided by the dim yellow glow of the streetlights, they saw a spectacular sight in the distance.
A great herd of cattle and sheep surged toward them like a tidal wave, their densely packed bodies resembling a roiling sea.
The air filled with the sound of rising and falling MOOS and BAAS, creating a strangely lively chorus.
Surrounding the herd were riders on fine horses, brandishing their reins and occasionally letting out loud herding calls that carried far through the quiet night sky.
This scene left the assembled chiefs speechless, their eyes wide with shock.
On the Tundra, the only animals that moved in large herds were reindeer; these cattle and sheep were the second such case they had ever seen.
As the two groups drew closer, they recognized each other at a glance by their distinct traditional clothing.
The Bear Tribe members on horseback fixed a gaze as sharp as arrows on the Inuit Tribe chiefs.
The Inuit Tribe chiefs met their stare without flinching, glaring right back.
In an instant, their gazes clashed in midair, threatening to strike invisible sparks. The air crackled with tension.
The two peoples were natural adversaries, seemingly born with a mutual antagonism ingrained in their very bones.
In the past, an atmosphere this tense would have already erupted into a bloody, close-quarters fight.
But times had changed. Now, all they could do was glare at each other to vent their pent-up rivalry.
Of course, in this silent war of stares, experience won out. The young Bear Tribe herdsmen were ultimately no match for the old chiefs; their gazes wavered, and they broke contact, hastily looking away toward Wawa.
"Wawa, who are these people?"
As a member of the younger generation of Inuit, the age-old hatred between the two peoples wasn’t as deeply ingrained in him as it was in the elders.
Wawa shrugged nonchalantly, his tone light as he replied.
"Guests the boss invited for Christmas. I’m just showing them around the Tundra."
"The nearby Ice River seems to be showing signs of melting. You all should be careful not to fall in," the young Bear Tribe man advised. Then, as if suddenly remembering his duties, he quickly raised his whip again and shouted, chasing the herd toward a new pasture.
As the herd of livestock slowly moved off, the clatter of hooves and the general din faded into the night.
The tribal chiefs turned their heads, their gazes falling on the only member of the Inuit Tribe’s younger generation remaining in the Crown Territory.
"What are these Indians doing in the Crown Territory?" Old Pete asked, his eyes filled with suspicion. He still harbored a deep grudge against the Indians and couldn’t stop himself from questioning.
Wawa raised a hand and pointed toward the receding herd. "Them?" he said calmly. "They’re in charge of herding. The Bear Tribe looks after all the livestock in the camp."