LAIR OF THE WULF- a Barbarian in Chicago- part 2
CHAPTER NINE

Tribal Life

As the whole world waited for justice to be done to Wulf Gott, the tribe that was led by him was unperturbed. They were actually having a celebration, since they knew that they had totally annihilated the invaders to their sovereign land. Many wineskins were being passed about the tribal fires, and the kegs of beer brewed by Wulf and his tribal brothers had been breached.

“My people!” announced Akula, the medicine man and religious leader of the Ojibwe. “My grandson, Wulf, has lived up to his tribal name, and led us as a pack against the evil that attacked us this past day.” Here there was a cheer, and many quaffs of brew were drunk, and wineskins tilted back. “Along with his and all of your strong arms, we have turned back the invader, with the help of the great Spirit, and my medicine!” More cheering, and even Major Lee Anthony found himself briefly joining in. Although one of the invaders, he felt his allegiance subtly shifting. He mentally compared the disgusting Antigone Gibbons and all he represented of Chicago decadence and decline, against what he had seen of these tribal folk.

All about him he saw clean limbed men and women, courteous and solicitous of one another. They lived in monogamous marriages, with children of all ages that were well cared for, and with elders that were revered. Akula was a voice of reason and comfort, guiding the people as he had done for many decades, and appeared ready to continue for many more. Elderly he was for sure, but his vitality was such that his true age was very uncertain. Except for his long grey hair, his body was that of a man of early manhood.

And over all strode the manly figure of Wulf! He had shed the warpaint that all had worn upon the attack, but was no less fearsome looking for all of that. The sheer massive size of the youth, the way his muscles rippled beneath his bronzed skin- all of this was impressive. But for any who had seen him in battle, where he moved like a big cat in a blur of action, like the Major had, he was actually- Regal! He had the instincts of a real Wolf, but was in actuality more like a Lion.

The Major had had time to think, since he had been imprisoned by the tribe after the slaughter of his men. He had realized that, if they wanted, they could have killed him instantly as well. But, after the battle, they were as civilized and accommodating as anyone could be. He realized that they were treating him exactly as he would have treated them, if they were the vanquished enemy.

He thought to himself about how, in actuality, the lives of these “primitive tribespeople” seemed very appealing. They were all fit and healthy- no one was obese, or seemed to be in any way ravaged by the diseases of modern civilization. All were well muscled and lean, from the very young, to the very old; although, as it was with Akula, age was hard to determine when the subjects were so brimming with vitality. He had spoken to Akula about their health care clinic, and Akula had responded:

“We have rejected the White Man’s medicine. We seek to build health in each person instead, and by using proper diet and lifestyle, we have no need of evil drugs that do harm more than good!”

Wulf had been nearby, and interjected this: “Hippocrates figured this out long ago, as has Akula: “Let food be thy medicine, and medicine be thy food.” He smiled broadly, and bit down on a haunch of venison. “As long as the food be made by the Great Spirit, and not in a laboratory by men intent on profit only, it will be good!”

The Major thought about how he had felt since living and eating here in the tribe, and realized it was way better than he was used to, although he had always tried to be careful about his diet. Margarine instead of butter, whole grains instead of red meat. But then, he thought, ’Hey, everything here is high fat, natural foods and meats- maybe this is the right way to eat??!” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

And so, wholeheartedly, he sat beside Wulf and Akula, while Jafiro and Trina Gilberts brought him wooden platters loaded with wild spit-roasted venison, piled with wild vegetables gathered from the tribal lands and gardens. Wulf looked at him with a smile, and passed a huge flagon of home brewed ale to him in a giant mug. He drank it with glorious pleasure, and felt at one with nature as he quaffed and ate his fill in front of a blazing fire in the wilderness of the North.

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