Day Seventy-Six: The Eerie Sound (Part Two)

The tracks were unmistakably those of a wild boar, but there were only two of them. The little garden was simply too small for anything more, so perhaps it had merely passed through. Apart from those two nearly identical footprints, however, there were no other clues of any value to be found.

Whether it was the former or the latter was still impossible to determine. Even so, I had to stay more vigilant. If it was the latter, after all, the danger would be considerable.

The breached wall was soon repaired. Fortunately, the tree trunk had not broken; it merely needed to be tied back into place, so there was nothing difficult about it.

That afternoon, I planned to try making a few traps. I only knew how to make traps for small animals, though. I had never made one for a large creature, so I would have to experiment little by little.

The water in the bucket had nearly run out, which meant it was time to fetch more. It was already noon, so I hastily prepared some dough-drop soup and had a hearty meal with Little Black. Afterward, I spent another half hour feeding some of the soup to the little fellow. At first, it refused to drink, merely sniffing at the dough-drop soup in the bottle. But honey was truly in limited supply. If it drank nothing but honey, there was no way it would have enough to last until it grew up.

In the end, though, it drank. After taking a single sip, it could no longer stop, and soon it had gulped down the entire bottle. Naturally, once it finished, it was ready to go back to sleep.

Every day at noon, in this stifling heat, I felt drowsy. But water was no small matter. I had to fetch some first; everything else could wait.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

My heart sank at once. Before me was an unexpected crisis I had never imagined.

The river had nearly run dry. There was barely enough water to cover the palm of my hand. I had never expected such a thing. With this bucket, there was no way to collect any water at all. Even with a small basin, I could only scoop up mud and silt.

Could it have been because of the many consecutive days of clear weather? It was hard to accept that the river, which had always murmured along without pause, had suddenly dwindled to the verge of drying up. If things continued this way, drinking water would become a serious problem. With so little left, I could only scoop it up with a bowl.

The situation made me somewhat anxious, but it also intensified my thirst. Should I investigate the cause, or search for water first? After a long while, I decided to fetch some water before following the stream upstream to take a look. The upper reaches lay near the little mountain.

As for finding water, my first thought was of those small trees from last time that resembled palm trees. Their trunks contained a great deal of water—several pounds in a single tree. There were many of them in the woods. I could find a few and use their water in an emergency. Though it had a slight taste, it was perfectly clear, and I had drunk it straight from the tree last time without any trouble.

The woods were not far from the riverbank, but dragging the bucket along was inconvenient. Fortunately, I had cleared a path through the forest before. Yet when I finally hauled the bucket into the woods, I realized how naïve I had been.

The path I had cleared last time had long since been reclaimed by vines and other small plants, which had completely covered it again. On top of that, I now had to drag the bucket behind me, making my progress painfully slow. The only reason I still ventured in was that, according to my memory, those few trees stood fairly close to the forest’s edge.

My memory proved correct. The trees were indeed not far away, but even moving forward with the utmost care, it took nearly twenty minutes to reach the first one. Not far from it stood the tree I had cut open and drunk from last time. I wondered whether it was still alive.

I first cut open the tree I had reached and tilted the bucket beneath the small hole in its trunk. Water immediately gushed out like a thin stream from a tap. There appeared to be at least three pounds of water inside.

Next, I went to the tree I had drunk from before. At first, I thought I had chosen the wrong one. There was no sign whatsoever of the cut in its trunk, and it looked completely undamaged. Could these trees actually heal themselves? I marveled at the discovery, then checked the location again. Through a gap in the forest, I could even see the low-lying ground that had once been filled with leeches.

This had to be the tree. There was no mistake. It really did seem to possess a self-healing ability. After I cut another small hole, water once again began to flow out.

I cut open five trees in all, collecting just under half a bucket. It was enough for the moment. If I used it sparingly, it should last several days.

After finally hauling the bucket back, I heard the little fellow’s cries as soon as I reached the treehouse. The sound was not loud, but there was unmistakable urgency in it. When I went upstairs, I saw that Little Black was there as well. Judging by the situation, the little one must have been hungry too.

I mixed a cup of honey water and fed it to the creature. Only then did it finally quiet down. As for me, I did not even have time to rest before setting out again. Yes, I was going to the vicinity of the little mountain to see whether there was still any water there.

I filled three plastic bottles with water, wrapped them securely in vines, and hung them from my body. Then I left the yard and headed toward the river’s upper reaches.

Following the river upstream, I found that the water was shallow everywhere, barely more than a trickle. Would I have to rely on cutting open trees for water from now on? The fish in the river had vanished as well. Only a few tiny fry and shrimp were barely managing to survive on the riverbed. They hid beneath the stones to escape the blazing sunlight, but it did them little good. The riverbed was already littered with the bodies of tiny fish. Under the merciless sun, such a small amount of water heated up incredibly quickly. At this depth, it would not be long before the shallows became the final resting place of these little fish and shrimp.

The water remained the same all the way upstream, as though the river no longer even had the strength to flow. It was not until I reached the foot of the mountain that I finally discovered the reason it had nearly run dry.

I had found the cause at last. Several huge rocks had fallen from the mountain, cutting across the river and blocking it completely. The water was forced to flow to one side, trying to break through the obstruction. Unfortunately, the ground there was low, so the water poured into the depression and flowed into the woods beside the river. Although the current was not particularly fast, very little water could pass through the rocks. Nearly ninety percent of it was spilling away.

The smaller rocks were easy enough to pick up and throw aside, but the largest one was impossible to move by hand. In the end, I had to use a branch as a lever to pry it up, watching as it rolled down into the woods.

The river was flowing freely once more.

Since I had come this far, I wanted to see where the river’s source was and why such a tremendous amount of water continued to pour forth without end.

It did not take long to reach the river’s source. The outlet was a cave nearly two meters high, set into the mountainside. Water flowed ceaselessly from within at a steady pace.

After carrying over a pile of stones to use as steps, I finally climbed up. Naturally, I ended up soaked from head to toe, but once I reached the top, I finally understood why the water continued to gush out—and how it had managed to keep flowing for so long.

So that was the reason!