Fishing for Frogs and the First Full Meal

Wang Yan opened his eyes at the first faint light of dawn. He had not woken because he was rested, but because he was hungry. That hollow, dull ache in his stomach had become his most familiar "companion" over the past few days. He listened closely. There were already faint sounds outside; the hardworking members of the tribe had begun moving about.

He knew he had to get moving. He crawled out of his shelter, and the cool morning air made him shiver, clearing his head considerably. He headed straight for the largest shelter in the center of the tribe, where the chief-his current father, Jianshi-lived.

Jianshi sat on a large rock outside his shelter, holding a piece of hard flint and concentrating on sharpening the tip of a bone spear. His movements were steady and powerful, his gaze sharp. Scars covered his bronze skin, recording the dangers of countless hunts. Hearing footsteps, he looked up. When he saw Wang Yan, a barely perceptible flicker of concern crossed his eyes, though his expression remained as stern as ever.

"Yan, up so early? Are you better?" Jianshi's voice was low and hoarse, like stones scraping together.

"Father, I'm better." Wang Yan copied the form of address from the original owner's memories, trying to sound natural. "I... I'd like a small piece of fat. Just the size of a thumb." He gestured with his hands as he spoke. (When Yan had fished for frogs before, anything tied to a fishing rod and kept moving could lure frogs into swallowing it, such as cigarette butts, cotton fluff, small frogs, insects, and so on. But these generally did not feel good in their mouths, so frogs sometimes would not actually swallow them. Some large frogs were so heavy that they would fall off halfway into the air and hop away, so Yan chose a small piece of fat with a more appealing mouthfeel as his frog bait.)

Jianshi paused in sharpening his bone spear, his brows drawing together slightly. "Fat? What do you want that for?" In the food-starved Fire Tribe, fat was precious. Usually, only small amounts were given to the warriors who needed it most before important hunts or during food distributions.

Wang Yan's heart tightened. He knew that if he simply said he wanted to go "fishing for frogs," something that sounded so unreliable, he would very likely be refused. He took a deep breath, trying to make his gaze look firm and trustworthy. "Father, I had a dream yesterday. In it, the ancestors told me a way to get food by the ponds. It needs a small piece of fat as bait. I want to try."

He had brought out "a dream from the ancestors," a reason that carried tremendous weight in a primitive tribe. After all, in this age of ignorance, dreams, witchcraft, and ancestral spirits were the most common ways of explaining the unknown.

Jianshi's deep gaze lingered on Wang Yan's face for a long while, as though judging whether he was telling the truth. Ever since his son had woken after his fall, something in his eyes seemed different. There was less childish bewilderment, and more of something Jianshi could not understand. Finally, he nodded without asking any more questions. He rose and, using a stone knife, carefully cut a tiny piece from the fat of the wild boar killed just yesterday, which hung inside his shelter, and handed it to Wang Yan.

"Use it sparingly." That was all Jianshi said before sitting down to sharpen his bone spear again. As both chief and father, he was willing to give his son a chance to try, even if that chance might seem very slim to an adult.

"Thank you, Father!" Wang Yan took the incredibly precious piece of fat, and a stone lifted from his heart. The first step was a success!

Not daring to delay, he immediately ran out near the tribe and finally found a slender little bamboo stalk, tough and flexible, standing a little over twice a person's height. With a stone axe, he laboriously chopped down the most suitable one, then stripped off its branches to make a simple fishing rod.

Next came the line; the fat could be tied directly to it. Searching his memories, he recalled that the tribe twisted a tough tree-bark fiber into thin cord. He found a small coil of it. Just as he was clumsily trying to tie the cord to the tip of the bamboo pole, a timid voice sounded beside him. "Brother... what are you doing?"

Wang Yan turned and saw the elder of his younger brothers, a boy of eight or nine, watching him curiously with wide eyes. Chronic malnutrition had left his brother especially small and thin, with a large head, a skinny neck, and limbs like withered twigs. Everyone in the tribe called him "Shouchai." Even so, he was much better off than most of the tribe's children; at least he had something to eat.

An idea stirred in Wang Yan's mind, and he smiled. "Shouchai, come hold this for me." He handed Shouchai the bamboo pole and concentrated on tying the cord. Shouchai obediently did as he was told, his eyes full of trust and dependence on his older brother.

"Brother, are you taking fat and a stick to catch a big beast?" Shouchai asked quietly, his voice tinged with expectation and fear.

"Not a big beast." Wang Yan finished tying the cord, secured the little piece of fat firmly to its end, then gave it a swing. "Today, we're going to catch the 'hopping beasts' by the ponds."

"Hopping beasts?" Shouchai tilted his head in confusion. "Those... don't taste good, and they make your stomach hurt." As far as the tribe knew, frogs-which they called hopping beasts-were small animals of little value that might even be harmful. They had little meat and could cause discomfort if improperly prepared, so almost no one deliberately caught them.

Knowing he could not explain it all in a moment, Wang Yan stroked Shouchai's dry hair. "Do you trust me? I have a way to make them taste good and fill our bellies!"

Looking into Wang Yan's confident eyes, Shouchai nodded hard. "I do! I'm going with you!"

Wang Yan found an old but still reasonably intact hide bag. With his makeshift fishing rod and faithful little follower, he set off for the pools and ponds closest to the tribe in his memories.

The sun gradually rose, and the mist among the trees dispersed. They reached a low-lying area thick with aquatic plants. A dozen or so ponds of varying sizes lay scattered through it, their surfaces reflecting the daylight, while frog calls rose and fell all around them.

"Croak-croak, croak-"

Listening to this lively "chorus," Wang Yan did not find it noisy at all. Instead, it felt especially familiar and dear. To his ears, it was nothing less than glad tidings for his starving stomach!

He motioned for Shouchai to tread lightly and crouch beside one of the larger ponds. Wang Yan drew a deep breath, recalling how he had watched people fish for frogs from the field ridges in the countryside as a child. Carefully, he lowered the cord with the fat tied to it onto the water a short distance in front of a fairly large-looking frog and jiggled it, then began shaking the bamboo pole gently and rhythmically.

The piece of fat bobbed up and down on the water, mimicking an insect struggling to fly.

Shouchai held his breath and watched nervously, his little face full of puzzlement. He did not understand why his brother was staring blankly at a piece of fat and some water.

Several frogs had clearly noticed this "living thing." They stopped croaking, shifted their bodies back slightly, and fixed their large eyes on the bobbing fat. Suddenly, they thrust hard with their hind legs, shooting forward like arrows loosed from a bow, their long tongues lashing out like lightning-

"Smack!"

The fat vanished!

Overjoyed, Wang Yan swiftly lifted the bamboo pole! A frog rose with it, clamping tightly onto the fat.

"Got it!" Wang Yan cried softly. Quick of eye and hand, he seized the frog, feeling its cold, slippery skin and powerful struggles. He slammed it hard against the firm ground beside him. After a few blows, it stopped moving.

"Brother! You caught it! You really caught a hopping beast!" Shouchai jumped up in excitement. His earlier doubts vanished without a trace, and his eyes shone with admiration.

That first success greatly boosted Wang Yan's confidence. Following the same method, he flicked the bait toward another frog. Frogs' vision was extremely sensitive to moving objects, while a stationary piece of fat held little interest for them in itself. He kept shaking the bamboo pole, tempting the "gourmets" in the water.

One, two, three...

Sunlight filtered through the leaves in dappled spots, and the croaking by the ponds seemed to become background music for their harvest. The hide bag gradually bulged, and its substantial weight put Wang Yan's heart considerably more at ease.

By noon, the sun had risen overhead.

Wang Yan hefted the heavy hide bag in his hand. It was filled with pale frog meat, probably weighing a dozen or more jin. Though it was not much, it was enough for him and his family to have a meal, with some even to share with those close to them. More importantly, he had proved that this approach worked!

"Come on, Shouchai. Let's head back!" For the first time since transmigrating, a truly relaxed smile appeared on Wang Yan's face.

"Back to eat meat!" Shouchai cheered, following closely behind Wang Yan as though his brother were his greatest hero.

When the brothers returned to the tribe, the gathering teams were coming back one after another to rest. Seeing Wang Yan and Shouchai return spattered with mud and carrying a bulging hide bag, people cast curious looks their way.

Their mother, Qingye, happened to be returning as well, with wild greens and roots in her back basket. Spotting her two sons, she hurried over, worry on her face. "Yan, Shouchai, where did you run off to? You're covered in mud." She was a sturdy woman with a kindly but weathered face, and years of gathering had given her a keen gaze.

"Mother, look!" Shouchai eagerly spoke first, his little face brimming with pride. "Brother took me to catch hopping beasts! We caught so, so many! Brother said we can fill our bellies!"

Qingye looked at Wang Yan in puzzlement. Smiling, Wang Yan opened the hide bag. Several tribespeople gathered around, and when they saw what was inside, they exclaimed in surprise.

"Hopping beasts?"

"Yan, why did you get so many of these? Eating them is bad for you." (People had eaten them raw before and suffered from parasites, so everyone avoided eating them.)

Some were curious, some bewildered, and others teased him good-naturedly.

Ignoring those doubts, Wang Yan said to Qingye, "Mother, put this meat on skewers and roast it thoroughly over the fire. The innards and skin have been cleaned away, so there won't be a problem."

Qingye looked into her son's confident, determined eyes. She hesitated, but ultimately chose to trust him. She nodded. "All right. I'll get it ready now."

Soon, beside the bonfire in the center of the tribe, several skewers of frog meat threaded onto thin twigs were set over the fire. Flames licked the pieces of meat with a sizzling sound, and a distinctive aroma, different from ordinary wild animal meat, began spreading through the air.

The aroma drew quite a few people over. The meat cooked through, its surface turning an enticing golden brown, but many people still did not dare eat it. They were waiting for Wang Yan to eat it without anything happening to him, then would wait a couple of days before eating it themselves. Wang Yan said little about it. Today's meat was only enough to fill the bellies of the dozen or so familiar people around him anyway. It looked as though he would have to make a few more fishing rods tomorrow.

Wang Yan was the first to take down a skewer. He blew on it and handed it to Shouchai, who was watching eagerly. "Careful, it's hot. Eat slowly."

Shouchai took the skewer and impatiently bit into it. The heat made him grimace, but after a few chews, his eyes instantly lit up! "It's delicious! Brother! Delicious! Much better than wild greens!" Panting out hot breaths, he began taking great mouthfuls, stuffing his cheeks until they bulged.

Wang Yan took a skewer himself and bit into it. The meat was fresh and tender, with the charred fragrance of flame-roasting. Though there were no seasonings at all, only the food's own most primal savor, to his ravenous self, it was an unsurpassed delicacy! He chewed in satisfaction, feeling the fullness and strength the food brought him.

Qingye tried a bite too, surprise and delight appearing on her face. "This... this hopping beast meat is actually so tender and fragrant?"

Wang Yan picked up a few more skewers and handed them to his younger brothers, as well as several children and elderly people nearby who were swallowing hard as they watched Shouchai eat.

"It smells wonderful!"

"Who would have thought hopping beast meat could taste this good!"

"How did Yan do it?"

"Look how much Shouchai's enjoying it!"

Watching this scene, Wang Yan's heart filled with a hundred mingled feelings. At last, through his own knowledge and actions, he had given himself, his younger brothers, and some of the tribespeople a relatively filling meal. He silently ate his roasted frog meat, feeling the long-absent fullness in his stomach. His gaze swept over the tribespeople whose faces had briefly broken into smiles because of a delicious meal, and his resolve to make the tribe strong became clearer and firmer.

This is only the beginning... he told himself. Fishing for frogs with fat is only the simplest step. There's much more to do after this.