If a Duck Lays an Egg and Its Offspring Lays Another
As I drew closer, the duck waddled away in a frantic escape.
Ji-geu dropped to the ground, practically lying flat, and peered into the bush where the duck had been.
"Found it."
Ducks laid their eggs everywhere, in the most haphazard spots.
The adults made nests every single day and placed them all around the village, hoping the ducks would use them, but the birds didn't seem to like them at all.
Not a single duck had laid an egg in any of the nests yet.
Geob-bo had said it was because there weren't enough nests.
Ji-geu usually believed everything Geob-bo said, but this time he wasn't so sure.
The adults claimed that if they left the ducks alone, they would eventually start using the nests.
He couldn't believe that either.
Judging by how the ducks were behaving right now, it didn't seem likely at all.
It would be more convenient if they laid their eggs in the nests, but honestly, it didn't really matter.
The ducks weren't hiding their eggs, so finding them was easy.
Ji-geu slipped the basket off his back and carefully placed the duck eggs inside.
The deeply hollowed basket had been made by stripping tree bark and twisting it into shape.
His father had soaked the wood in water and peeled it, then his mother shaped it to fit Ji-geu's body perfectly.
They had made it much softer than the other baskets specifically for gathering duck eggs.
The other children also carried baskets their fathers or mothers had made, but Ji-geu's was clearly the coolest.
Hehehe.
Squatting in the bushes, Ji-geu let out a small, satisfied laugh.
Ducks laid a lot of eggs.
Geob-bo said that eating the eggs of such ducks would make people have many children too.
The other kids had argued that ducks and humans looked completely different, so how could that make sense, but Ji-geu somehow felt it might be true.
Maybe he believed it because he wanted lots of younger siblings.
How wonderful it would be if these duck eggs went into his mother's belly and turned into little brothers and sisters.
If he had a younger sibling, Ji-geu would take such good care of them.
He would bring them everywhere every day, teach them how to gather duck eggs, show them the best ways to find amazing treasures, and which flower nectar tasted the sweetest.
After collecting all the eggs and placing them in the basket, Ji-geu carefully arranged the grass he had been carrying over the top.
It was grass that had fallen in the field while they harvested oats.
He had to layer it thickly so the eggs wouldn't bump against each other and break.
When he cautiously lifted the basket onto his back and stood up, a friend's shout rang out from somewhere nearby.
"Ack! I stepped on it! It's broken."
Ji-geu hurried toward the sound.
He walked quickly without running so the basket on his back wouldn't shake too much.
All the children moved the same way, which made their gait look a little strange.
When he arrived, the yolk was already spilling from the broken duck egg.
What a waste.
Ji-geu and his friends quickly dipped their fingers in and licked it up.
Suddenly, the face of his dead older brother floated into his mind.
He could barely remember what he looked like anymore, yet for some reason the image of him right before death remained painfully clear.
His brother's sunken face, skin stretched tight over bone, had looked dark and frightening.
It would have been nice if his brother were here.
Then he could have enjoyed this yolk too.
Maybe that was why his father sometimes received food but just stared at it blankly instead of eating. Perhaps he was thinking about his brother.
Whenever Ji-geu ate something, his brother's face would sometimes appear too.
Ji-geu wiped away the tears that had formed without him noticing, brushing them roughly with the back of his hand.
"What? Are you crying because it's a waste? I didn't do it on purpose."
The boy who had stepped on the egg grumbled.
Before Ji-geu could reply, Kkoma Daejang spoke up first.
"It's not that, so just eat it quickly. Before the yolk soaks into the ground."
Kkoma Daejang gave Ji-geu's back a light pat.
"Don't cry in front of your parents."
"...."
It seemed Kkoma Daejang understood why Ji-geu had teared up.
Maybe he had those same thoughts sometimes too.
After all, Ji-geu had heard that Kkoma Daejang's siblings had died as well.
When Ji-geu nodded, the other children seemed to catch on to what was happening.
They drew close and pressed their heads together.
The four of them formed a tight circle, arms around one another's shoulders.
After a brief silence, one of them spoke up.
"Duck eggs are really delicious, aren't they?"
"Yeah."
"My dad roasted some in the ashes for me yesterday."
"I got caught trying to steal one in secret."
"Should we go see the teacher?"
At Kkoma Daejang's suggestion, saliva involuntarily filled Ji-geu's mouth.
The sound of the others swallowing hard could be heard too.
The teacher made all sorts of strange things with duck eggs.
Last time, he had mixed tree pith meant for duck feed with the eggs and baked it, or blended it with flour to make flat pancakes, or added different kinds of grass. They were all incredibly tasty.
Sometimes his experiments tasted weird, but usually they were good.
According to the teacher, the children were the official test subjects for his duck egg recipes.
"Let's finish gathering the eggs and go."
"Sounds good."
Ji-geu and the others started collecting duck eggs again.
These days, every single day felt so fun and happy.
He hoped this happiness would continue forever, even after many younger siblings were born.
Marguerite really didn't seem suited for cooking or any delicate work.
She was apparently the worst at it in the entire village.
Even the children seemed better than her.
If people were saying that much, she must truly be terrible at it.
She had looked so downcast that I invited her along while I went to check the traps.
To be honest, I had hesitated quite a bit.
The sight of rabbits or birds caught in snares was miserable and pitiful.
Sometimes we even found ones that had been half-eaten by other animals.
To Marguerite, who adored Popcorn and Orange, it might seem far too cruel.
What if it gave her trauma?
I had decided I wouldn't bring her if she showed even the slightest reluctance, but Marguerite had been overjoyed.
On the way to the hunting grounds with her, we saw the children gathering duck eggs.
Since the ducks laid eggs all over the place, the kids were rummaging through every bush.
Many of them were practically crawling, so the children kept appearing and disappearing from view.
A few ducks still seemed to look down on the kids.
One child trying to collect eggs was chased away by an angry duck.
It looked like Pudding was today's helper.
Pudding sprouted several legs, dashed over, and suddenly jumped onto the duck's back.
While the startled duck fled, the children hurriedly scooped up the eggs.
"It had six legs."
Marguerite muttered with her eyes wide.
It was far away so it looked small, but there were definitely six.
"You're right. I've only ever seen four, but six... I guess it can make as many as it wants."
The world of slimes was truly mysterious.
After walking for quite a while, we reached the area with the traps. I went ahead first to check the snares without her.
Fortunately, none of the catches had been eaten by other beasts.
"Come over here. Watch your step."
When I offered my hand, Marguerite took it happily.
There were many thick branches making it difficult to move, yet Marguerite walked through them with ease.
They said she had been a tomboy when she was young, so paths like this must feel familiar.
The rabbit that spotted us tried to run, but the snare only tightened around it further.
"The animals here are all so big."
Marguerite marveled as she caught the rabbit and placed it in the sack.
I had felt guilty the first time I caught a rabbit, but she showed no such hesitation.
Marguerite gave me an adorable smile.
"I really loved rabbit meat. It's so delicious when roasted over an open fire. I used to eat it often with my older brothers. They never taught me that skinning or gutting wasn't proper work for a noble lady. Hehe, but now it doesn't matter if I learn, does it?"
Marguerite looked at me with sparkling eyes, her pretty face glowing.
It seemed she wanted me to teach her.
Did she actually want to do that sort of thing?
How strange.
"Teach me with this rabbit today. I want to be helpful as soon as possible too."
Her expression truly seemed to be asking for instruction.
Just looking at her face, it seemed more like she was talking about flowers or paintings.
It didn't look like she was suggesting we kill a rabbit and remove its organs at all.
It was completely different from how I had felt when I first killed one.
Maybe I had been rather timid.
"...It's reassuring."
At my words, Marguerite smiled beautifully like a blooming flower.
She seemed incredibly happy.
Seeing her so delighted about being useful made me happy too.
I needed to become a more manly husband from now on.
The timid version of me was gone.
When I checked the next snare, there was another rabbit.
In the trap I had set where I'd seen a bird before, one had been caught.
It was different from the ones I had seen before.
It was a bit smaller and somehow resembled a chicken.
I was wondering if we could eat this like we did ducks when Marguerite let out a delighted cry.
"It's a wild chicken!"
So it was a chicken.
No wonder it looked familiar.
Seeing us, the chicken desperately clucked and struggled to escape.
A few feathers had fallen around it, but it didn't seem injured.
It was thrashing so violently that I wasn't sure how to catch it.
While I stood there flustered, Marguerite quickly grabbed both of the bird's wing joints together.
"Since it's a female, if we keep her safe, a male will come. Hehehe."
Marguerite laughed as if it were nothing and placed the wild chicken into the sack I was holding.
"...."
My wife was truly someone I could rely on.
Come to think of it, were we going to raise chickens along with the ducks now?
Our livestock was steadily increasing.
All birds so far, though.
It would be nice to have sheep, goats, or pigs as well.
Where would I even get those?
We would probably have to buy livestock from the city.
It would be difficult for peddlers to bring them all the way out here.
As I pondered this, the words slipped out unconsciously.
"There's going to be so much work ahead of us."
Marguerite smiled brightly at my comment.
"Yes. Isn't it wonderful? If we set lots of traps and catch plenty of animals, we can buy livestock with what we get. The young ones are cheap, so we can buy several and raise them until they're big."
Marguerite's face glowed as she spoke of the future, and my heart floated up along with hers.
They said husband and wife become one, and we who had only been married a short time already had perfectly matching thoughts.
When I told her I had been thinking the same thing, Marguerite's smile shone even brighter.
For a while, Marguerite wandered around suggesting we place more traps here and there, searching for good spots.
The spirits danced around us, playing by grabbing onto leaves or flying while perched on insects.
After spending some time like that, we headed back to the village.
Now we needed to help with the harvest in the other fields.
There were slight differences between each field, but even though the usual harvest season was still far off, the village was already enjoying a bountiful crop.
It felt like the scent of oat grains was riding on the flowing breeze.
For a while, the entire village had been frantically busy with the harvest.
The children diligently gathered every single fallen grain from the fields.
At the village meeting, it had been decided that for every small basket of such grains they collected, they would receive one duckling.
Of course, there weren't any ducklings yet.
It referred to the ones that would be born later.
The children had already chosen names for them and even created lists of potential names for the eggs and offspring those ducks would produce in the future once they grew up.
The kids put their heads together and whispered excitedly that if a duck laid an egg and its offspring laid eggs too, they would become incredibly rich.
Watching the children's excited faces, the village men chuckled.
"I wonder how many will actually survive."
"I can already picture them wailing."
"Do ducklings die easily?"
At my question, the village men nodded.
"Some die from illness, but more often they're caught and eaten by snakes or rats."
"Foxes and weasels sneak in and eat them too."
"Animals raised by people are the easiest to catch. The beasts know that."
"Rats are the biggest problem. There's nowhere without them."
So rats ate ducklings too.
I had thought they only gnawed on grains, but they were surprisingly carnivorous.
Our ducks needed to grow up safely.
When I gazed worriedly toward the distant fields, the village men burst into loud laughter.
"Don't worry, Village Chief. The young ones die easily, but plenty still survive. The numbers won't drop too much."
The man who had spoken suddenly looked at me as if something had occurred to him.
"By the way, Village Chief. Please don't give names to the ducks."
Another man nodded in agreement.
"That's right. This is advice for the children, but once you name them, it becomes hard to kill them. You get attached."
"...."
I smiled awkwardly.
I had already named several of them.
There was the one with the wider beak I called Flatbeak, the one with the unusually large head I called Bighead, and...
It seemed our conversation had reached Marguerite, who was standing with the women nearby.
A soft "Pfft" of laughter drifted over.