Trust and a new discovery

In the clearing at the center of the Fire Tribe, the pile of frogs stacked up like Little Mountain drew every tribesperson's gaze like an enormous magnet. A complicated mix of feelings hung in the air—a deep-rooted fear of the "hopping beasts" and an instinctive craving for meat.

For the starving tribe, over a hundred jin of frogs was unimaginable wealth. Yet most of the tribespeople merely stood around watching, swallowing their saliva. Many did not take any, especially several of the elders, whose faces showed concern as they muttered about people who had eaten hopping beasts before and rolled around in agony from stomachaches.

Watching this, Wang Yan understood. Having meat alone was not enough; he had to break the fear in their hearts. He knew where the problem lay-eating it raw, or failing to clean it properly.

He walked over to the pile of meat and said in a clear voice, "Is everyone worried that eating this will give you a stomachache?"

The crowd fell silent, every gaze settling on him. An old woman whose face was as wrinkled as tree bark spoke up. "Little Yan, it's not that we don't trust you, but these hopping beasts... they're unclean. Shitou's child ate one before, and vomited and had diarrhea. The child nearly didn't make it."

Wang Yan recognized her. Everyone called her Granny Cao, and she was one of the tribe's most knowledgeable elders. He picked up a piece of cleaned frog meat. "Granny Cao, look." He held it up so everyone could see clearly. "This is hopping beast meat, but we've stripped off its skin and thoroughly removed its innards and the traces of blood beside the bones. Yesterday and the day before, I, my younger brother Shouchai, Shibang, Gubang, and Daya all ate it. Do any of us look unwell to you?"

Granny Cao narrowed her eyes and examined the pale, tender piece of meat, then looked at Wang Yan and the others, all brimming with life. They certainly did not look unwell.

Wang Yan continued explaining in the simplest terms. "These hopping beasts live in the water, just like fish. We dare to eat fish because we roast or boil them. If we ate fish raw, our stomachs would feel bad too, right? Hopping beasts are the same. As long as we remove the skin, innards, and other dirty parts, then roast them thoroughly over a fire, they're safe to eat!"

He turned to his father, Jianshi, and his mother, Qingye. "Father, Mother, yesterday's and today's meat was all cleaned and roasted before we ate it. I can stake my life on it-there's absolutely nothing wrong with eating it this way!"

Jianshi looked at his son, then at the pile of meat and the eager yet hesitant eyes of the tribespeople around them. He knew that, as chief, he had to set an example at a time like this. Drawing a deep breath, he strode forward and took a large piece of roasted frog meat skewered on a branch from the pile-Qingye had just roasted it following Wang Yan's method for their own family to eat.

"I trust my son." Jianshi's voice was not loud, but it carried strength. With that, he opened his mouth, took a great bite, and began chewing.

Everyone's heart rose into their throat as they stared intently at Jianshi.

Jianshi chewed a few times and swallowed. Then... he took another bite. There was no sign of pain on his face; instead, his eyes brightened at the roasted meat's flavor. He turned to Qingye and said, "It tastes good. More tender than some beast meat."

At that, a stir ran through the crowd. Qingye picked up a piece and began eating. Granny Cao watched Jianshi and Qingye, hesitated, then took a small piece of roasted frog meat from Wang Yan with trembling hands and carefully put it into her mouth.

A moment later, a glimmer flashed through her cloudy eyes, and she slowly nodded. "Mm... nothing wrong with it. And it tastes... quite good."

Shibang, Gubang, and the others had long since run out of patience. With a cheer, they rushed forward, picked up the roasted meat, and began taking great mouthfuls, calling indistinctly as they ate, "Delicious! Nothing wrong with it!"

With the chief, the wise elder (Granny Cao), and the brave setting an example, along with the irresistible aroma of meat, the last of their misgivings vanished. The tribespeople, especially the children watching longingly and the frail elders, could no longer hold back. One after another, they stepped forward to claim their share of roasted frog meat.

Firelight shone over faces glistening with grease and smiles-sights long absent from the clearing. This was almost the first time in recent years that so many people in the Fire Tribe had eaten their fill of meat together outside a festival or a grand hunting celebration.

However many frogs there were, they would eventually catch them all, and even the tastiest food would grow tiresome if eaten every day.

Early on the third morning, Wang Yan did not immediately take his young companions out to catch frogs.

Carrying a larger, worn-out hide bag, he went to the place where they had cleaned the frogs the day before. A great many frog skins and innards had been discarded there. When Shibang and the others saw him squatting there, picking through them, they gathered around curiously.

"Yan, what are you looking for? These things are filthy and stink. You can't eat them," Gubang said, pinching his nose.

Wang Yan raised his head, his eyes shining. "We can't eat these things, but they might have another use." He picked up a relatively intact frog skin. "Look, this has a strong fishy smell. Fish and shrimp in the water love this kind of smell."

"Shrimp?" Daya tilted his head. "Those hard-shelled bugs in the water that wave two big pincers and hop around? My mother said they're like scorpions-poisonous, and we shouldn't touch them."

"And those eight-legged monsters that walk sideways (crabs). They look frightening," Shibang added.

Wang Yan smiled. He knew about the tribe's fear of crustaceans. He explained patiently, "They're different from scorpions. Scorpions live on dry land and are poisonous. Shrimp and eight-legged monsters live in the water, and they aren't poisonous. They just have a hard shell on the outside. We have to peel it off and eat the meat inside."

He picked up some frog innards and put them in the hide bag. "We can use these unwanted frog innards and skins as 'bait' and see if we can lure them over. I've heard that shrimp in some places grow very big and have lots of meat. They're even more tender and sweeter than frog meat!"

"Really?" Shouchai licked his lips, the bliss of eating meat yesterday still fresh in his memory.

"Even tastier than frog meat?" Shibang was tempted too.

"Why would I lie to you?" Wang Yan stood up. "But catching them isn't the same as catching frogs. We need to make some 'traps.' I won't go frog fishing for now today. We'll split into two teams. One team, Shibang and Gubang, will keep catching frogs at ponds a little farther away. Remember what I said-don't catch every last one in a single place."

"All right!" Shibang and Gubang now followed Wang Yan's every word.

"The other team..." Wang Yan looked at Daya and Shouchai. "You two will stay with me. We'll find some supple vines and thin branches, and I'll teach you to weave something called a 'shrimp trap.' While we're at it, we'll go to the stream and see where there are plenty of shrimp and eight-legged monsters."

They got straight to work. Shibang and Gubang set off excitedly with two other half-grown children. They were now the tribe's "frog-fishing experts," full of enthusiasm.

Wang Yan led Daya and Shouchai into the woods beside the tribe to search for suitable vines. As he searched, he recalled the rough structure of the shrimp traps he had seen in the countryside as a child. They did not need to be too complicated, as long as the entrance was easy to enter and hard to leave.

Daya was quick-witted and learned fast. Under Wang Yan's guidance, he soon wove a small but well-structured funnel-shaped entrance. Shouchai was not very strong, but he was patient, and took charge of sorting the vines and trimming the branches and leaves.

Over the course of the morning, they actually managed to make three crooked, simple "shrimp traps" out of vines and thin sticks. Wang Yan tied the collected frog innards and skins together with grass cord and secured them at the bottom of the traps.

At noon, Shibang and the others returned with another good haul-fifty or sixty jin of frog meat. The tribespeople were no longer surprised at the sight of meat, and instead began helping clean and roast it with practiced hands.

That afternoon, Wang Yan took his core team to the stream that ran through the valley. He chose a bend where the current was relatively gentle and aquatic plants grew thickly. He tied stones to the three fishy-smelling shrimp traps with ropes and sank them into the water, fastening the other ends to tree roots on the bank.

"Is that all we have to do?" Gubang asked curiously.

"Mm." Wang Yan nodded. "Let the smell of the 'bait' spread through the water. When the shrimp and eight-legged monsters smell it, they'll crawl through this little opening to find food. Once they've eaten their fill and want to leave, that opening won't be so easy to find. We'll come back tomorrow morning and see."

Standing beside the stream, Wang Yan gazed at the clear water and made plans in his mind. Frogs, shrimp, crabs... these aquatic resources that the tribe ignored or feared were all precious protein in his eyes. With the right methods, this valley and its water sources would be an inexhaustible granary.