"Try this new saw. If it doesn't work, we'll modify it."
"Mm, all right. I'll give it a try."
Luo Chong scooped up a handful of snow from the ground and rubbed his blackened hands with it before taking the nearly seventy-centimeter-long bow saw. One side of its gong-shaped wooden frame held the saw blade, while the other had a hemp rope. By the principle of leverage, the tighter the rope was drawn, the straighter the blade would become.
The copper blade, with holes at both ends, was hung on the two copper nails of the saw frame and set at an angle to the wooden frame. Luo Chong placed the saw along the line he had just drawn on the log and began pulling it back and forth rapidly.
Amid a flurry of sawdust, a clear, narrow slit quickly swallowed the ink line and raced along the length of the log.
"Good, that's exactly it. Make twenty more according to this design. We still have enough copper, right?" Luo Chong asked as he set down the saw.
Lame counted carefully on his fingers and thought it over. "Mm, we have enough. The blades won't use much material."
"Then go make them. Don't be afraid of wasting materials."
The Han Tribe had nearly used up its copper stock. All kinds of tools, weapons, and daily necessities required metal, and there were still many places where copper was needed. At the very least, the Han Tribe did not even have a single copper pot yet. After spring arrived, besides spring plowing and salt collection, they would have to mine the copper ore once again.
Speaking of mining reminded Luo Chong of another important thing: a ship—or perhaps it should be called a boat.
An ancient saying went: a vessel with a