Day Eighty-Two, Guidance (Part Four) - Please Subscribe

The little one was wobbling as it crawled in this direction. A few seconds later, Little Black rushed out; it had been following closely behind the little one like a protective father. Whenever Lightning crawled in the wrong direction, Little Black would nudge it with its head to steer it back. The direction Little Black was guiding Lightning toward was exactly where I was.

I walked toward them with a smile. Little Lightning, annoyed by Little Black’s constant interference, shrieked in frustration. But there was nothing it could do; with its tiny frame, it was no match for Little Black’s persistent herding. It could only resign itself to being pushed forward.

When I reached out my hand, Lightning must have caught a familiar scent, for it immediately leaned toward me, sniffing with its tiny nose—it was impossibly cute. Even though it was covered in mud from the recent rain, I picked it up. The little one seemed to enjoy it and didn't struggle at all. At this moment, however, Little Black grew a bit jealous; it stood up on its hind legs, rested its front paws on my leg, and nudged its head against me as well.

"Haha!" Seeing Little Black’s antics, I burst into laughter. Once I stopped, I patted Little Black on the head to comfort it. I pointed at the mud on Lightning and the muddy ground, then gestured toward the treehouse, signaling that it was too dirty outside and it was better not to bring Little Lightning out.

I don’t know if Little Black understood me, but it let out a couple of low whines. Although I had wiped my hands with grass after finishing the lid, I had still managed to dirty Lightning’s grayish-black fur. Combined with the mud it had picked up while crawling outside, it looked as if it had just been dug out of the earth.

If this mud dried, it would cake up and cause Lightning’s fluffy fur to mat together, which would surely make it uncomfortable. Not knowing if it was afraid of water, I didn't dare give it a proper bath. Instead, I brought over a small basin of water and used a rag to gently wipe away the mud. Naturally, Little Black didn't escape this treatment either.

After cleaning the mud off these two rascals, I gave Little Black repeated instructions not to go back outside. Only after it let out a soft "ao" did I return to the workshed.

The lid and the grate bars were finished, but the lid needed holes to allow the flames to escape. They couldn't be too dense, nor too few. If they were too dense, the structural integrity of the lid would be compromised, and it would crumble under the weight of the clay blanks. Everything would have to be started over. If there were too few holes, the fire wouldn't be strong enough, the temperature wouldn't reach the required level, and instead of firing into pottery, the clay blanks would simply shatter.

Furthermore, the size of the holes was critical. I spent a long time deliberating before I finally began.

I used a twig to measure and mark the lid, ensuring the distance between each hole was as uniform as possible. Only then did I use my finger to poke the holes. I made nine holes in total on the lid. Of course, the holes made by my finger were far too small to be effective, but that was just the first step. I then rotated my finger clockwise inside each hole; after a few minutes, each opening was about the size of three coins—just right. Only then could the lid be considered truly complete.

The grate bars were shaped into rectangular prisms. They were in good condition, and perhaps because the moisture content was just right, they showed no signs of warping. Although the lid and the clay blanks were too heavy to move to the fireplace in the treehouse, the grate bars were portable. I could take them there later.

...

Just as I thought everything was ready, I realized—if I hadn't double-checked the notebook, I never would have remembered. I still hadn't made one more lid! It was the large cover meant to seal the entire furnace. Without it, the temperature inside wouldn't be maintained; I couldn't very well fire the pottery in an open furnace, could I?

With the experience from the first lid, this one was relatively simple; I just patted it into a large circle. It only needed to be large enough to cover the furnace. This lid didn't need holes; I just had to let it air-dry.

In the blink of an eye, it was noon. The preparations were finally complete, and I could truly say that everything was ready except for the right conditions. I must say, after a busy morning, I was quite tired. To make matters worse, it started raining again. To prevent flooding, I widened and deepened the drainage ditch around the workshed. As long as the water stayed out, these items should be semi-dry in three to five days.

...

My honey supply was now less than half, so I decided to feed Lightning arrowroot powder for the time being. While feeding it, I discovered that its teeth were starting to come in. Perhaps it wouldn't be long before it could eat on its own, and I would be liberated, free to let it forage for itself. Caring for it every day had taken up so much of my time.

Little Black and I had rice porridge. The rice, soaked by the water, became very sticky and soft when boiled, which was quite satisfying to gulp down. With a few pieces of smoked meat and a few drops of soy sauce, it was a meal I never grew tired of.

However, I was now facing a seasoning crisis. Soy sauce, salt, and sugar were running low. They would likely be gone before long, and aside from salt, I hadn't found substitutes for sugar or soy sauce. This filled me with a sense of urgency.

Harvesting salt was also an immediate priority. Once the weather cleared, I had to gather some. If I ran out of the salt collected from the ship, it would truly be too late.

...

In the afternoon, the rain grew heavier. I couldn't even make it to the workshed. I just prayed that the water wouldn't seep through the coconut-leaf roof and ruin the lids I had worked so hard to make.

Filled with worry, I sat by the doorway all afternoon, listening to the rain and carefully flipping through the notebook. Many of the records were not detailed, and there was a large portion of the information I couldn't understand. But there was no help for it; these were plans the man had made for himself, and it was enough that he could understand them. It was such a pity he was dead. How wonderful it would have been to have a knowledgeable companion by my side...

It wasn't until nightfall that I finally stopped and put the notebook away. Although it lacked detail, my careful study had yielded quite a bit of useful information. For instance, the method for making a bow and arrow and the materials required were clearly written. Perhaps, the next time it rained, I might try my hand at making a bow out of boredom. It might even become a useful tool for hunting birds or rabbits later on!

There were other important things I had marked as well, to be tried one by one when I had the time.

Of course, the most important tasks right now were the production of tiles, harvesting salt, and finding substitutes for other seasonings...