Hope
The Fire Tribe's animal pens grew livelier by the day. Jianya's team had successfully brought back another four young wild goats and two bewildered fawns. The pens had been expanded again and again, with thick logs driven deep into the ground to enclose several separate areas. The elders responsible for tending them cheerfully cut the freshest, tenderest grass every day. Watching the little animals gradually settle down from their initial terror and unease, and even come forward to beg for food when people approached, filled their hearts with contentment beyond words.
Everyone in the tribe understood that the chief and Yan were planning something big. This winter, the tribe would certainly take in more people. Their enthusiasm for stockpiling food therefore soared even higher. The fish in the pond were plump, and some were caught and dried; the gathering team not only foraged but also began deliberately collecting wild vegetable seeds and tubers; apart from their "inviting the young" missions, the hunting team occasionally caught large game, and besides what was shared and eaten on the spot, the best meat was all salted. A faint scent of salt and smoke hung in the air. It was the scent of reassurance and hope.
Unlike the bustling activity at the main camp, the atmosphere on the road north toward Salt Rock Slope was much graver.
Dabang led his ten-man team along the increasingly distinct trail once again. Instead of crude hide bags slung over their shoulders, each man now carried a pair of baskets woven from tough bamboo and hemp rope on a shoulder pole. Deft-handed tribespeople had woven these under Wang Yan's guidance. They held more than hide bags and took less effort to carry.
Dabang walked at the head of the group, his heavy stone axe hanging at his waist, his wary gaze constantly sweeping the dense woods on either side of the path. He hefted the pole on his shoulder, feeling how light yet sturdy the bamboo baskets were, and admiration for that youth welled up in him again. How does that boy Yan have so many good things stuffed into his head? These baskets make carrying stones so much easier than holding them in our arms or hauling them on our backs!
He recalled the changes of the past month and more. It all seemed like a dream. Food filled the sheds, they could fire their own pottery, and now they could even produce that most precious thing, salt. He was born with a large appetite and exceptional courage, but in the past, he had often eaten only half his fill to save food for the elders and children. Every winter, watching his tribespeople fall to hunger and cold had been the deepest pain in his heart. He touched the bulging hide bag at his waist. Inside were enough dried meat and grilled fish to fill his belly. These were days he had never dared imagine before.
"Stay sharp, everyone! We're almost there!" Dabang growled, cutting off the team members' quiet conversations. The closer they came to Salt Rock Slope, the more vigilant he grew.
Salt Rock Slope, a place whose salt content attracted numerous herbivores to lick its rocks, was also a hunting ground where predators lay in wait. Famished wolf packs, elusive leopards, and even the fabled king of the mountains-the tiger-might all be waiting there for prey to come to them.
The group fell silent, leaving only their footsteps and the faint creaking of bamboo baskets. When they reached Salt Rock Slope, the scene was unchanged. Smooth patches left by licking were visible on the gray-white rocks, while droppings and tracks from all kinds of animals littered the surroundings.
"Quick! Scrape off this white surface layer, just as Yan said. The whiter, the better!" Dabang ordered, while assigning Shibang, Yingmu, and several other agile youths to stand guard around the perimeter with weapons in hand. He himself swung a specially made stone pick, knocking off chunks of rock with a pure color and a distinct crust of salt. The team members worked briskly, loading the ore into the bamboo baskets.
Just then, one of the team members on guard twitched his ears and said quietly, "Captain, something's moving! In the woods to the west!"
Everyone instantly stopped working, snatched up their weapons, and stared tensely toward the dense western woods. The bushes stirred slightly, and several pairs of green eyes gleamed in the shadows.
Wolves! There seemed to be seven or eight of them. They were all skin and bones, clearly long starved, and were keeping their distance as they greedily yet cautiously sized up these two-legged beasts and the salt-rich stones beside them-those held an attraction for them as well.
"Form a circle! Don't panic!" The experienced Dabang immediately directed the group to put their backs to the salt rock face and form a simple defensive formation. The hunters raised their stone spears, while the team members tightened their grips on their slings and short wooden clubs. Though tense, their formation remained completely steady.
The wolves prowled back and forth, whining softly, seemingly assessing how dangerous this prey might be. A larger wolf, the pack leader, edged forward a few tentative steps, baring its stark white fangs.
Dabang took a deep breath. He knew he could not show fear. He suddenly stepped forward and let out a furious roar like a thunderclap, bringing his stone axe crashing down on a rock beside him and sending a few sparks flying!
"Get lost!"
The sudden bellow and imposing display startled the lead wolf, making it retreat two steps. The other team members also roared, striking the rocks with their weapons to create a tremendous racket.
The wolves were cowed by this display. They hesitated for a moment before finally following their leader in a sullen retreat into the depths of the woods. Their gleaming green eyes soon vanished.
Only after confirming that the wolves had truly left did everyone breathe a sigh of relief. Their backs were soaked with cold sweat.
"That was close..." Shibang wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Looks like we can't bring too few people here from now on, and we certainly can't let our guard down," Dabang said gravely, understanding even more clearly the danger and value hidden behind these white rocks.
They dared not linger. Once the baskets were full, they immediately set off home. Carrying the heavy loads of salt ore, Dabang glanced back at the dangerous Salt Rock Slope. These stones were the tribe's hope of growing strong, but every step along the road to obtaining them came with danger.