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The valley, which had been silent, was now filled with all kinds of sounds, the clamor of women, and the loud roars of men as they rode on tall horses and hunted reindeer unscrupulously.

The women were all over the mountains looking for delicious wild vegetables, and from time to time they looked up at the strong bodies of their men in the crowd running ahead, and smiles were on everyone's faces.

Since the earthquake and tsunami, the living people really feel that it is good to be alive, and they all want to see their loved ones by their side every day, even if they are having a hard time, so what's the point?

Soon the men of the hunt let out a loud "oh oh oh" from the valley that would only be used to celebrate the victory.

After a short time of dusty and victorious, the warriors came to them from near and far, and soon the two huge reindeer were thrown by the men at random beside the fire.

Inheriting the skills passed down from generation to generation from their ancestors, the women quickly skinned the prey of the warriors, took out the entrails, washed them with the water of the stream, cut the flesh into pieces, set up a large iron pot, brought the clear water from the stream in wooden barrels, boiled it, and skewered the remaining meat on sharpened green branches and roasted on a forked branch.

The surface of the skewers is cauterized at high temperatures, forming a hard crust so that the juices do not drip until the meat is cooked through the flames without any loss.

The women scraped off the skin of the roots and tubers with sharp knives, took out all kinds of simple seasonings, and kept pouring them into the boiling iron pot to make a soup that tasted better.

As everyone was busy preparing to celebrate, Nala watched with silent gratitude as the Prophet dragged his rubber feet to the unconscious child.

He gave the unconscious boy a serious look, then leaned his staff against the rock and used his only hand to make a water-like motion on the boy's body, praying to Odin, the merciful god of the gods, to help the little boy recover.

The Vikings of the Middle Ages believed that diseases and injuries were mystical manifestations of the human body as a battlefield, and that gods and demons were at war.

Nora's treatment is performed in the name of the Protector, but often it needs to be accompanied by the prayer of a respected prophet, otherwise Nala thinks that her treatment will not work.

Whereas Nala appears as an agent to protect God when treating the sick, the prophet does not need to act as an agent, but directly acts as an intermediary between man and God, conveying man's requirements and God's will.

Nala herself didn't know why she gave such a deep preference to this scarred and emaciated child.

From the moment she found the dying child, she feared that he would die, and hoped that he would survive.

Now, the Prophet Mogu'u has performed witchcraft on him, which can make Nora's own healing work, so that Nala can feel very relieved at this moment.

Nala gently carried the boy by the hand to the edge of the pool at the foot of the waterfall, and dipped the boy's body in the water to wash away the dirt and clumped dirt from the thin body.

She tried to lift the child's nerves through the stimulation of cold water, but the child was still in a deep coma and did not wake up.

She tossed the child up, caught it, rolled it over her arms, shouted and cooed, and then, holding it tightly, walked back with a soft, howl like that to comfort the child.

Next, Nala washes the child's wounds. Gently and skillfully, she used a piece of absorbent rabbit skin to dip it in hot liquid containing iris roots to scrub the wound.

Then, with a spoon, she scraped a spoonful of pulp chewed from the root of the iris and applied it directly to the wound, covered it with a cloth and bandaged it with a soft deerskin bandage.

She uses a knife to remove crushed alfalfa leaves, alder bark fragments, and stones from the bowl, leaving it to cool next to the hot broth bowl.

Nala's husband has been helping since he came back from the hunt, and this simple and honest man is also very concerned about the seriously injured little boy in front of him.

Nala got up and walked out of the tent with her husband helping the rest of the tribe, but his puzzled eyes were fixed on the wooden bowl underground.

"What's in that bowl?"

He asked

"That's broth! The poor boy was starving.

Looking at his skinny appearance, I really don't know how long he has been wandering alone.

Can you guess how he got it?

Where did he come from?

Where is his family now?"

Kleber shook his head and said helplessly, "Only God knows this."

Soon night fell, and the celebratory crowd was still singing and dancing, and the men were gulping down oat wine and singing loudly.

Halfway through the celebration, Nala returned to her tent, lowered her head, checked the temperature of the two bowls again, and then pillowed the boy's head on her lap and fed the boy the potion in the bone bowl in small sips.

The boy was talking incoherently and struggling with bitters. When the broth was fed, even in a coma, it didn't stop him from drinking it greedily.

Nala held him down until he fell asleep peacefully.

Nala slowly placed him on the soft fur in the ground, leaned over to listen to his heartbeat and breathing, and thought to himself, I have done all I have to do, and now I can only save myself by praying for the protection of the gods and the vitality within the child.

Nala often sympathized with the unfortunate fate of the prophet Mogu, who should have had a spouse of his own. however

Despite his great sorcery and high status, no woman took a fancy to him. His deformed body and scarred face were intimidating to many women;

He also had a kind and generous heart, and he was reluctant to instruct the tribal leader to force him to marry a woman who was not a good man.

Therefore, he never had a spouse and lived an ascetic life, which added to his great image.

Everyone in the tribe, including all the men, was afraid of the Great Mogu, and was in awe when they saw it.

However, the older members of the tribe also knew that the Great Moguwu had a benevolent heart. However, this benevolent heart is deeply hidden and rarely revealed.

Now, a hidden benevolence took over the mind of the great Mogueu, who was not busy planning the religious service that would take place that evening, but thinking about the poor little boy.

He had always been curious about the boy's sudden appearance, and he felt a voice in the shadows telling him that the boy was the hope of leading the tribe to strength, and that he could lead them out of this impoverished land and the Navians to unparalleled heights.

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