The Bear (1)
Three days had passed. The snow had stopped, and the conditions had improved, but Asdin’s situation remained dire.
“This is a problem. We’re almost out of food.”
Originally, the rations would have lasted a boy on his own for several more days. However, he had gained an unexpected guest, and thanks to that, the stockpile he had gathered was hitting rock bottom in just three days.
“Don’t you have any dried meat?”
“I do. But there isn’t much left. And since the snow poured down for days, the weather has warmed up quite a bit. We need to eat the venison before it spoils.”
“Then we should just finish it all today.”
“…I was planning on eating it until tomorrow, though?”
“Then we’ll finish it all by tomorrow.”
Asdin looked at Srem with an absurd expression. It seemed that when it came to eating, Srem’s plans were incredibly fluid.
If a god spoke like that, could it be considered a blessing? Asdin tilted his head, but soon decided that was too difficult a dilemma to ponder. He looked back and forth between the stone cairn where the venison was buried and Srem, then said,
“If you’re hungry, you can eat more. I can hold out.”
At Asdin’s words, Srem waved his hand dismissively and said,
“Hey, kid! It’s a joke, a joke! My goodness. Who’s the adult here, anyway?”
Srem stood up, following suit, and brushed off his pants. He wore an expression of deep responsibility for the current situation.
“Well, don’t worry. If it comes to it, I’ll go do some fishing.”
“Fishing? In the middle of winter?”
“Is there some law that says you can’t fish in midwinter?”
“It’s not like that, but… I’ve never fished before.”
“Fished? Not even once?”
“Yeah.”
Now Srem’s expression changed into something bizarre.
“That’s quite strange. You seem very accustomed to living in the wild. Even if you don’t hunt, wouldn’t you have at least caught fish? The Laoras River has a high yield, too. Ah, are you saying you’ve never fished in winter?”
“No. Just fishing in general.”
“…Then how did you do it?”
“I didn’t fish; I used a fish trap.”
Srem nodded vigorously and said,
“Ho, so that was the trick. Come to think of it, that’s easier than fishing. What did you use for bait?”
“I would thread pieces of fruit onto a wooden splinter. After I caught a fish, I used the fish itself.”
“Thrifty.”
Asdin thought deeply. Everything Urnil had taught him consisted only of things he could actually do. But Urnil was not an omnipotent god; there were realms impossible even for him.
Like cooking. Or visual aspects. Asdin briefly wondered if fishing was a realm of impossibility for Urnil, or a realm of teaching. But no answer came, and his attention was drawn to the fact that the fire was weakening.
“The smoke will sting your eyes, Mister. The wood is a bit damp. Please, go outside.”
“I shall.”
As Srem stepped out of the cave, Asdin added finely broken twigs to the fire and stirred it. Pungent smoke rose, but Asdin focused his Firmo on his eyes and throat, allowing him to endure the smoke comfortably.
“Urnil, why didn’t you teach me how to fish?”
“So you’re saying you know how to do it?”
At the suspicious tone, Asdin insisted it was absolutely not the case and silently tended to the fire. Once the intensity of the fire was just right, Asdin placed a long piece of wood across it and stepped out of the cave. Srem was waiting with his arms crossed.
“What is it?”
“I took a good look around this cave. I saw that you’d set up ankle traps.”
Asdin nodded.
“The grass around here is tough. I wove the reeds together when the weather wasn’t this cold.”
“It seems you’re wary of people, not animals?”
“Did you forget who I am, Mister?”
Srem raised and lowered his eyebrows. What stood before him was a child. Outside the lands of the sovereign, even one’s own kind could be the most cruel of beings.
“Right. You were still a child.”
The wind blew, scattering the smoke coming from inside the cave. Asdin spoke as if to load his anxiety into that smoke.
“It wouldn’t work on you, would it?”
Srem, who had briefly wondered what he meant, realized Asdin was talking about the traps he had set.
“Just because you know about poisonous mushrooms doesn’t mean you’re immune to the poison.”
Asdin tilted his head and looked at Srem.
“It’s natural for a technique the opponent doesn’t know to work, but just because you know it doesn’t mean you can’t be blocked.”
Asdin nodded with an ambiguous expression.
The hunter and the boy. Sunlight shone on a moment where the two might have grown a little closer. Srem waved his hand briefly and squinted. A sudden gust of wind had blown the smoke toward them.
“It’s broad daylight now. It’s the perfect time to hunt animals.”
“Now? Why?”
“Animals in familiar environments tend to become relaxed when they are at their most active.”
Asdin’s eyes sparkled with the fact that he had learned new knowledge.
Urnil, too, praised Srem without reservation. For Asdin, that alone was enough to make the knowledge worth trusting. But there was one corner of Srem’s words that needed to be pointed out.
“Then doesn’t that mean the Taung could also be roaming around looking for us? Shouldn’t we be worried about the Taung?”
Srem examined Asdin with somewhat complex eyes.
“Come to think of it, you were planning on catching the Taung, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Anxiety spread across Asdin’s face. For the last two days, instead of hunting, Asdin had been maintaining the traps around the area. Of course, Urnil had said that such small snares or traps would only work on small animals or herbivores and would not work on a predator like the Taung. So, Asdin had tried to dig traps by breaking branches and sharpening the ends to stick into the ground.
And Srem had seen that.
Srem pointed out that digging into frozen ground without a shovel or pickaxe was an act of madness.
And now. Asdin shrugged his shoulders and said,
“But do you have a different idea, Mister? You said setting traps was inefficient.”
“No, we have to set traps.”
“Huh?”
“I meant that your method was inefficient. It’s true that we need to set traps. But a trap isn’t just about inflicting wounds.”
Srem beckoned to Asdin, who was looking at him with a puzzled face.
“Follow me.”
Srem led Asdin to a small hill behind the cave. Even while following Srem, Asdin never let his guard down. But given that Urnil had not issued any warnings, Asdin thought he could relax his tension a little.
The place Srem reached had a protrusion of two divided hills. And between them was a stone cairn similar to the one he had made himself. Srem opened the top of the cairn and began to take out the contents one by one.
“This is?”
“Poisonous mushrooms, poisonous plants, and various other things.”
Only then did Asdin understand why Srem had been wandering around diligently for the past two days despite having no weapons.
“You were collecting these. But poisonous mushrooms and plants… what are you going to use these for?”
“I told you, didn’t I? To make a trap.”
Only then did Asdin realize what Srem was trying to do.
“You intend to feed them to the Taung!”
“Exactly. What trap could be more certain for a wild animal than this?”
“But how?”
At Asdin’s words, Srem grinned.
“Let’s prepare for that.”
The two soon returned to the inside of the cave with the items Srem had taken out. Most of the smoke from burning the damp wood had cleared.
Srem demanded that he thaw and mince some of the remaining meat.
“Is that all I have to do?”
“Yes. The goal is thawing, not roasting over a fire, so you must never let it cook.”
“Got it.”
As Asdin said that and moved the meat to the inside of the cave, Srem brought an armful of something and sat in the corner of the cave, starting to make something.
“What is that?”
“A fishing rod.”
Asdin’s eyes widened at his words. To Asdin, who knew what fishing was but had never really seen it, it was a fascinating object.
“That’s a fishing rod? How do you use it?”
“I’m going to braid and tie a line made of twisted oil-grass onto this rod. And at the end of the line, I’ll embed several small, twisted, sharp wooden splinters so they cross each other. At this time, the wooden splinters are made like thorns, and it’s better to use live wood than deadwood.”
“Why?”
“Deadwood is dry and hard, but it breaks easily. You know that things become stiff when they die, right? It’s the same. The tissue of live wood doesn’t break and doesn’t bend.”
“Aha.”
Asdin, adding an interjection, looked at the branches Srem had brought. The branches, from which he had carved out thorns with a dagger under Asdin’s permission, had evergreen conifer leaves at the ends even in midwinter.
“Is the reason the fishing rod is also live wood so that it doesn’t break easily?”
“Exactly. You’re smart, aren’t you?”
Srem grinned and intricately wove the oil-grass vines around the twigs on the branches. Then, a sturdy fishing rod that would never come undone was completed.
“How is it?”
Asdin asked, pointing to the fishing rod.
“Can you really catch fish with this?”
“Want to see?”
Asdin nodded eagerly. His eyes sparkled with the desire to learn a means other than fish traps, but Srem perceived it only as a child’s intense curiosity.
“Thawing the meat… I suppose just spending some time like this will do. Let’s go together.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Follow me.”
Saying that, Srem gripped the middle of the fishing rod, which had the line wrapped around it, and carefully stepped out of the cave. Even though he had no weapons, his actions were always marked by caution and consideration. Suddenly, Asdin tilted his head, seeing that he was holding a branch with a burning ember in his left hand.
The two headed straight for the Laoras River.
Since they hadn’t been this close since winter began, Asdin cast a fresh gaze through his scattering breath. The riverbank was full of snow-frozen ground and slippery patches.
Soon, Srem, having found a safe and suitable spot, blocked the wind with his body and lit a fire there.
“Why the fire?”
“You don’t have gloves, do you? Just warm your hands and watch.”
Asdin looked up at Srem with a slightly bewildered expression, but Srem stood up as if that were the only reason. Then, he unwound the line that had been coiled around the fishing rod, swung it behind his body, and swung the rod widely over his head. Small, plump pieces of meat sparkled attractively in the middle of the thorns.
The line, weighted at the end, flew far and was cast onto the river’s surface.
“Now, we wait.”
“Can you really catch fish with that?”
“I told you to just watch.”
Srem said confidently and began to hum a tune. Urnil spoke to the slow rhythm of that humming.
Asdin stared blankly at the bracelet. Then Urnil spoke again.
At those words, Asdin looked at Srem, who was showing a relaxed demeanor before his eyes, absorbed in fishing. The person in front of him was someone who could certainly become the boy’s enemy, but he was someone who never showed hostility.
Time flowed as slowly as his slow humming. The flow of the river moved at a speed that matched the two flows.
Around the time Srem hummed the nameless tune for the second time. The line, which had been hanging loosely, drawn by the current, suddenly showed strong tension and was pulled taut. At that change, Asdin’s body, which had been sitting and watching, straightened up.
“This is a big one!”
Srem shouted boldly and began to pull the fishing rod back. The fishing rod, exposed to the cold winter air, flexibly absorbed Srem’s strength. If it hadn’t been live wood, the rod might have snapped under that force, or Srem might have missed it.
“Whoa!”
Asdin was startled. Srem’s foot had slipped on the ground, and he had lost his balance. He was supporting himself on the ground with one hand while holding the fishing rod with the other, but it looked like he might be sucked into the midwinter river at any moment.
Thinking that a monstrous fish had bitten the bait, Asdin felt goosebumps and clung tightly to Srem’s back.
He sent essence quickly to various parts of his body, especially his lower body, and his reinforced legs held Srem’s body firmly.
Srem, surprised by that support, shouted,
“Wh-what?”
“Pull! Pull! Mister!”
At the boy’s urgent shout, Srem lowered his stance with a smile on his surprised face. As Asdin supported him from behind, Srem slowly grabbed the line above the fishing rod and pulled it toward himself. The part of the line touching the water thrashed violently.
But the hunter used his seasoned skill to slowly, carefully begin a battle of strength with his prey. Oil-grass is weak against cutting, but it exerts more strength than imagined against simple pulling force. That was what made this terrible battle of strength possible.
In an instant, Srem lifted his arm, where his muscles stood taut, and hooked the fishing line that he had pulled in more than halfway. Then, a very huge fish came out, hanging from the end of the line.
“Caught it!”