Day 82, Guidance (Part III)

As expected, the rain was still falling, though it wasn't particularly heavy. Judging by the weather, it didn't seem like it would stop anytime soon. The morning was windless and sultry; in this place, the temperature difference between day and night is quite significant.

Fortunately, my constitution remains decent, perhaps because I have begun to adapt to this place, as I haven't been sick in a long time. I hope this state continues. After finishing the cup of water in my hand, I looked at the sodden landscape outside, unable to muster much energy.

Just moments ago, I was surprised to discover that Little Lightning could actually stand. Although still a bit wobbly, perhaps before long, I will see the little guy scurrying around. But the thought of Lightning darting all over the room makes my head ache. My greatest fear is that it will start chewing on things; if it were to ruin the bedding, grain bags, or other items, it would be a real disaster.

The miniature water vat I made yesterday had dried on the surface after being baked by the fire all night, but it was still somewhat damp inside and needed more time. I need to make a few more items, and once those are finished, I can follow the methods recorded in the notebook to build the earthen kiln as soon as possible. Then, I can try firing some roof tiles; with tiles, I won't have to worry about the coconut leaves on the roof aging, nor will I have to fret about leaks.

I went to the outdoor shed. Although it was a bit damp inside, it didn't cause any issues; after all, I hadn't added walls when I built it, as an open-air shed is better suited for this kind of work.

I checked the soil in the pit. It was decent, just a bit clumpy, but not dry. After jumping in and stomping on it a few times, it became sticky again.

The soil was no longer an issue, but how to shape the mud into an arc—so that it would dry into a curved tile—gave me a headache. It wasn't until ten minutes later that I hit upon a solution.

I dragged over a small log, chopped it to about a meter in length, and then used force to split it slightly down the middle. I wedged a stone into the fissure and struck the stone hard with the back of my axe. As the stone slid downward, the log slowly split apart until it was completely divided into two halves.

I did this because the tiles only require a slight curve. If I hadn't split the log, the resulting tiles would have been too curved to be of any use. Only by splitting the log and draping the prepared mud blanks directly over it could they dry into a practical shape.

Making the tile blanks was very simple: I just dug out a large chunk of mud, patted it flat and smooth, and used a branch to level the four sides. The blanks were rectangular. After finishing, I patted them for a while longer; according to the notebook, the goal is to pat them as much as possible to force out any trapped air, which prevents them from cracking during the firing process.

I must admit, the soil taken from this termite mound is truly fine—much finer than ordinary earth. To be honest, I still harbor doubts about whether these blanks can actually be fired into real tiles. In my imagination, mud blanks are very brittle once dry; will they really not shatter when subjected to such intense fire? But all that will have to wait until the blanks are dry and the firing is complete.

Each tile blank takes about ten minutes to make. Because it’s my first attempt, I didn't dare make too many for fear of waste. If I made too many and they all ended up shattering, my mood would certainly plummet. Besides, I only had a limited amount of soil, and there was another more critical item to produce.

This item is the key to the earthen kiln. The kiln is a pit dug into the ground, and this item is the cover for the pit. However, it’s not just a lid; it needs holes to concentrate the heat and increase the temperature inside. Furthermore, with this cover, I can place the blanks on top. I certainly couldn't just throw them directly into the fire.

Making this cover wasn't easy. I had to estimate the size of the kiln pit first. After measuring the ground multiple times with a branch, I finally settled on the dimensions.

The diameter of the cover is about sixty centimeters, and it is about three centimeters thick. This thickness is just a guess, as I’m not sure. If it’s too thick, I fear it will crack before it’s even fired. If it’s too thin, I worry it will break under the weight of the blanks. A lack of experience is truly a great obstacle.

The cover used up a lot of mud. I smoothed the edges as much as possible, patted the center until firm, and tried to make it as round as I could. It didn't look difficult, but the workload was far greater than that of the tile blanks.

Firstly, due to its weight, it was difficult to move, especially since it hadn't dried yet. Forcing it would only cause chunks of mud to fall off. This large cover would have to dry naturally before it could be moved.

The rain was still falling, and since I had to wait for these items to dry, I figured I could start digging the kiln. Once the cover was ready, I could begin immediately.

The kiln would be dug right inside the shed. The pointed back of my fire axe was faster for digging than a knife, though speed is relative. If I had an entrenching tool, the digging would be much faster, but alas, I did not. I couldn't even imagine what materials I could use to make a shovel—stone? Wood? Neither seemed to work. I had no sheet metal, so it was pointless to dwell on it.

The pit needed to be a certain depth, at least sixty centimeters. I had to dig two pits: one to serve as the kiln firebox, and an adjacent one for adding firewood.

The two pits couldn't be connected directly; I had to leave at least thirty centimeters of space between them. Once both were dug, I would connect them from the bottom. There is a reason for this: if they were connected at the surface, the whole point of digging separate pits would be lost. Only by doing it this way could I form a sealed furnace. Of course, I would also need to make a few fire grate bars to place near the bottom of the furnace.

Although the notebook didn't explicitly state the purpose of the grate bars, they are clearly meant to utilize the principle of air circulation, allowing the branches and other fuel to burn more thoroughly and letting the ash fall through the gaps to the bottom without obstructing the fire.

Just as I finished these tasks, the rain finally stopped, though the weather remained gloomy and likely only offered a temporary reprieve. As I stood up to stretch and prepare for a rest, a rustling sound echoed not far away. Alert, I immediately drew my pistol.

I looked over, and it was actually Lightning... the little guy had crawled out of the treehouse.