Of Birds and Baskets
A stone flew through the air. Chester had immediately thrown the stone he had loaded into his sling to catch the frog. However, thrown without proper aim, the stone didn't even graze the tip of the fleeing bird's talons. Watching this, Chester gnashed his teeth.
"...!!" But his body, struggling from a lack of energy, could not give chase. "Ugh! Damn it!"
Yet, not long after, the flying bird collided with a tree branch and plummeted. "Huh?"
The creature Chester had hunted was simply too heavy for a bird that had been starving through a long storm to carry off. Seeing the bird crash, Chester scrambled toward the spot.
Skreeeech! The bird fluttered around the carcass, and upon seeing Chester approach, it spread its wings wide in a threatening display.
He could see eye-like patterns on its wings, and a pattern resembling sharp white teeth running down its chest and belly. It was likely trying to pass itself off as a larger beast, using its screech to ward off predators, but Chester wasn't buying it.
Keeping his eyes on the wary bird, Chester tied his stone knife to one end of his sling. Then, hooking his middle finger through the loop on the other end, he began to swing it.
The sling, now armed with a stone knife, made a menacing whirring sound as it spun in wide arcs. In his other hand, he held his stone axe. This wasn't a posture for hunting. He would intimidate the bird with the sling, and if it drew too close, he would defend himself with the axe. Chester's goal, first and foremost, was to make the starving bird abandon its meal and flee.
"Shoo! Shoo!" Chester hissed, swinging the sling. Seeing the flying stone knife, the bird fluttered up for a moment before landing right back on top of the carcass.
Kreeee!"Aaaaargh!" It was a showdown between a large man and a slightly oversized bird. The enemy was neither a colossal dragon, a terrifying monster, nor a ferocious beast—just a single bird. To an outsider, it might have looked ridiculous, but Chester was dead serious.
Others might mock him for fighting so desperately against such a creature, but the greatest lesson Chester had learned from his father was this: There is no shame in doing what it takes to survive.
Every act of survival was desperate, noble, and beautiful. Smearing predator dung over one's body to mask one's scent, filling one's belly with maggots writhing in rotting meat, or falling to one's knees to beg a stranger for mercy—none of it was shameful.
Even if the enemy before him was a mere bird, fighting it with absolute resolve was nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, even if he fought with all his might and lost, he was confident he wouldn't feel a shred of embarrassment. His opponent was just like him—starving, and driven by the desperate urge to live.
"Aaaaargh! Grrr!" Chester contorted his face into the most menacing scowl he could muster, threatening the bird.
Kreee! Kreeeeeee! The bird, also calculating that a physical fight would waste too much energy and that Chester was far too large, merely flapped its wings and shrieked to drive him away.
To anyone else, it would have looked like a bizarre, incomprehensible dance—neither actually striking with weapon or talon—but both were deadly serious. Chester puffed out his chest, spread his arms wide, stomped his feet on the ground, and swung his sling. The bird swooped toward Chester, brandishing its talons, before backing off to land on the carcass again, puffing its wings to mimic a massive predator.
How much time passed? In the end, it was the bird that backed down. It decided that Chester was simply too big, and that fleeing without a fight was the wiser choice.
"..." The bird took flight, and Chester reclaimed his stolen prey. He examined the carcass. Aside from a few bleeding punctures where the bird's talons had dug in, it was intact.
Chester returned to the spot from earlier, but the frog had long since vanished. He didn't even know if it was edible, but losing it to such an absurd distraction left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Carrying it around like this is going to be a problem. Another bird might target it. Maybe I should make a basket?
Of course, he had absolutely no idea how to make one. He had heard from his father that bamboo could be used to craft bowls and baskets, but he had only heard of it; he had never actually learned the method. Still, even without formal instruction, there was always a way. Chester cut his hunt short, gathered a few stalks of bamboo, and headed back to the Beach Villa.
"You're back," Monia murmured.
"Yeah. Did you sleep well? If you're done resting, get up and get to work."
"Yeees..."
Monia dragged her exhausted body upright and took the tree bark Chester handed her. With practiced ease, she began stripping and twisting the bark to make rope.
"What are you planning to do?" Monia asked, looking over at him. Chester had hung what appeared to be dressed meat on a wooden spit in front of the campfire and was busy splitting bamboo.
"Oh, meat. What kind of animal is that?"
"I have no idea."
"Huh?" Still half-asleep, Monia let out a bewildered squeak at his response.
"I don't know everything, you know," Chester said, tapping the stone axe he had wedged into the bamboo with a rock. *Thack, thack.* After a few strikes, the bamboo split open with a sharp crack.
Having split the bamboo, Chester chopped it into suitable lengths, smoothed the edges, and pulled out a wooden stick. Tied to the end of the stick was a small, sharply carved stone. Pressing this primitive drill against the bamboo, he spun it rapidly between his palms to bore a hole.
"I'm thirsty."
"I brought water in the canteen."
"Mm." Monia drank from the canteen Chester pointed to, then lay back down in the shade and resumed twisting the rope.
"How much of this do I need to twist?"
"A lot. And make it really long."
"Mm?" Monia tilted her head, wondering why on earth he needed so much rope, but her hands diligently kept working just as Chester ordered.
After boring holes in the split bamboo pieces, Chester threaded the rope through them, binding them together. Piece by piece, he linked them until he could roll the connected bamboo into a cylinder.
Measuring the diameter of the cylinder, he cut more bamboo to fit, drilled holes in those pieces as well, and lashed them to the bottom of the cylinder to form a base.
"What is that?"
"A basket." It was a bit loose, with plenty of gaps between the bamboo slats, but it undeniably took the shape of a basket.
Chester inspected his creation from various angles before drilling four holes in strategic spots. He bored two holes into two opposing bamboo slats, threading rope through them to serve as shoulder straps. Slinging the straps over his shoulders, Chester walked around to test it. *Clack, clack.* The loosely bound bamboo slats knocked against each other, making quite a racket.
"How's it look?"
"Strange."
"It's a bit loose, but it'll do the job." Satisfied, Chester set the bamboo basket down and began working on a second one.
"You're making another one?"
"Yeah. This one's yours."
"Huh? Mine?" Monia's eyes went wide. Chester, who usually insisted she do everything herself first, was actually making something for her?
While working on the second basket, Chester picked up his stone knife and sliced off a piece of the roasting meat. He popped the cooked outer layer straight into his mouth. "..." The moment it hit his tongue, a gamey odor washed over him. As he bit down, he was met with incredibly tough, stringy flesh. Not bad. Chester chewed the rubbery meat without a single complaint.
"I-I want some too."
"Hmm?" Chester checked the meat, sliced off a well-done portion, and handed it to her. Of course, "well-done" here didn't mean a perfect medium-rare with a pink center; it meant charred black on the outside to ensure there was absolutely no risk of parasites.
"Ugh?! I can't chew it!" Met with intense resistance and a dreadful gamey stench the moment she bit down, Monia ultimately couldn't stomach it and spat it out.
"Tsk, what a waste."
"This is way worse than the snake we had yesterday!"
"Snake is delicious, though."
"You actually think that was delicious?!"
"It was plenty good." Chester continued munching on the meat as he worked on the second basket.
"Done."
"Um, why did you make this for me this time?"
"Hmm? Oh. We have a lot to prepare, and I don't want to waste time." Realizing he was basically saying her trying to make one would be a waste of time, Monia pouted.
"Alright, stand up."
"Hmph."
"Come on, up you go." Coaxed by his gentle nudging, Monia obediently stood up. Chester helped her to her feet and slipped the basket straps over her shoulders.
"Hmm."
"H-how is it?"
"Not bad. It's not too heavy, right?"
"No."
"Good. I made the bottom using two hinged pieces per row on purpose." Chester pressed down on Monia's basket. With a soft click, the basket collapsed flat.
"I thought of it while making it, and it turned out pretty well. Maybe I should do the same for mine." It didn't just fold front-to-back; if pushed from the side, it collapsed sideways too. This way, when the basket was empty, they could easily navigate through tight spaces.
"Alright. Let's go gather materials."
"What materials?"
"Materials for fish traps."
"Fish traps?"
"Yeah. Hunting alone has its limits for securing food, so we're going to set up some traps."