Day Thirty-Nine: The Deserted Island Food Festival (Part Two)
The first time I truly understood the wonder of savoring something, it was with these pure white grains of rice, so enticing and tempting. I decided that tonight, I would prepare a grand feast to reward both Xiao Hei and myself. And now, the preparations must begin!
Xiao Hei’s favorite fish soup was an absolute necessity. He was like my companion—though he could not speak, I already felt I could not live without him.
Xiao Hei was clever; sometimes I even thought he was more than just a dog—he was like a person, a brother who shared my hardships and stood by my side. Sure enough, as soon as I started toward the riverbank, Xiao Hei, having heard my footsteps, shot up from his spot and bounded after me, his tail wagging furiously.
The water by the riverbank was still clear, but there were far fewer fish than before. Perhaps these fish had come into the island’s stream to spawn. I was still pondering, wanting to catch a larger fish. My mindset was now no different from someone who had just won five million in a civilized society: extravagant and bold. I decided to catch the biggest fish I could find—use the head to make fish soup for Xiao Hei and the rest for a braised fish dish.
I sighed and shook my head. Now was not the time to let my thoughts wander; just thinking about these dishes made my mouth water uncontrollably.
At last, I spotted the largest fish I’d seen so far. It was lazily fanning its tail, keeping its balance in the water, completely unaware of the impending danger. I gave it no chance and lunged straight at it from the bank—the water was shallow, so I figured it couldn’t possibly escape from me. Without hesitation, I spread my hands wide and dove like a hunter, utterly confident I would catch it.
But reality is always so cruel; if only I didn’t have to admit it. Just as I thought I had the unsuspecting fish in my grasp, it moved! As my shadow fell over its head, it darted out of my reach just as I hit the water. Its powerful tail lashed furiously, sending a spray of water right into my face.
What a humiliation! I had actually been outsmarted by a damn fish!
Xiao Hei, startled by my sudden plunge into the river, let out a couple of anxious howls and dashed over, grabbing my pants leg and trying his best to drag me to the shore.
The water was shallow and posed no real danger to me, but Xiao Hei’s instinctive actions touched me deeply. His concern made me all the more grateful to have him.
I called to him softly as I climbed out, patting his head to let him know I was alright. Xiao Hei immediately released my pant leg and, after pouncing on me with excitement, ran back to the riverbank to play.
Once I had chosen my fish, its fate was sealed. I caught it at last. Its gaping mouth seemed to beg for mercy, but I could hardly spare such a delicious meal.
Killing and cleaning a fish had become second nature to me; with just a few deft cuts, I split open its belly and head, expertly cleaning out the innards and gills. My skill now rivaled that of any fishmonger in the marketplace.
Having finished with the fish, I called for Xiao Hei. But after several calls, he didn’t come. I grew worried—I’d just seen him playing by the woods near the riverbank. Usually, he only chased bugs or startled birds, and he almost always came running when I called. But now there was no response.
My concern deepened. The island was large, and I hadn’t explored it all. I couldn’t be sure there were no large predators or dangerous poisonous creatures here. I picked up the cleaned fish and headed toward the spot where Xiao Hei had been playing.
“Xiao Hei!”
“Xiao Hei, where are you?”
I shouted loudly, hoping he would hear me.
A series of urgent barks answered me. Xiao Hei sounded anxious, uneasy, impatient—there was even a hint of fear. My heart tightened. Was it a snake, a beast, had he found something, or had he fallen into a trap? I rushed toward the sound, my mind racing with worry.
Finally, I saw Xiao Hei. He was facing a large tree, his back to me. I called his name, and he turned, running straight for me. But instead of wagging his tail or jumping up as usual, he stopped in front of me, then immediately spun around and barked furiously at the tree.
Clearly, something was threatening him from behind the tree. Driven by curiosity and a sense of danger, I moved cautiously closer.
Xiao Hei tried to stand in front of me, barking incessantly. But as I took a few more steps, the bushes beside the tree began to shake violently, the sound of snapping branches piercing the air. When I reached the tree, alert and cautious, I saw nothing—just a path trampled through the undergrowth, marking where something had passed.
Something had happened! Was it a human? A large animal? A predator? My mind raced with wild guesses. This incident cast a shadow over my heart. The unknown is always the most terrifying, and right now, I knew nothing.
From now on, I thought, I would carry a gun whenever I went out. Even though I’d never fired a shot, having one would give me peace of mind.
Xiao Hei had clearly been frightened too. On the way back, he sniffed around constantly, never once straying far, always staying by my side.
When we returned to the treehouse, Xiao Hei lay down at the upper entrance to rest.
I didn’t stop—my bedding was completely dry, and the cotton inside was now wonderfully warm from the sun. Using a sturdy branch, I beat the cotton to fluff it up, then reassembled all four quilts. One I folded and placed in Xiao Hei’s bed—the travel case. He didn’t protest; in fact, as soon as I’d finished, he ran over and lay down, quite content.
The other three were mine. Two I spread out on the floor of the upper level, and one I used as a cover. I tried lying down, sinking into the soft bedding.
“So comfortable,” I sighed, stretching luxuriously.
The scent of sunshine lingering in the quilts was a pure delight—a reward in itself.
But dusk was falling. The feast still needed preparing; there was no time to rest yet.