Chapter 60
This time, Bai Tu was so exasperated he almost wanted to hit someone—let alone Lang Qi, whose face was already dark as coal.
The young wolves scattered in all directions, terrified of being caught and scolded further. With two wolf pups in his arms, Lang Qi obviously couldn’t take action. But if his glare could physically wound, the young wolves would undoubtedly be bruised and battered.
Despite their apparent panic, the young wolves were emboldened by their experience.
They’d been scolded by their leader more than a few times already and had developed a certain level of immunity. Seeing that Lang Qi didn’t chase after them, they cautiously wandered back after a while—only to notice the two wolf pups in his arms. Their fear evaporated in an instant.
Fearing these little wolves might come up with another outrageous stunt someday, Bai Tu decided to address the issue once and for all.
Using lime mixed with ink, he painted numbers beside the entrances of their caves. If they still wanted to press their paw prints, fine—just no more stone monuments.
Even though their custom-made stone columns had been taken away, the young wolves were thrilled to have their own designated numbers outside their caves.
They cheered excitedly, quickly forgetting their earlier fear. Lang Zuo even ran up to Lang Qi and asked if he wanted a number too—a classic case of learning nothing from the past.
Bai Tu: “…”
After resolving the young wolves’ nonsense, Bai Tu didn’t linger.
The summer heat was stifling outside, and while adult beastmen could endure it, staying outside too long wasn’t good for the wolf pups. Sure enough, the two little ones in Lang Qi’s arms began to whimper softly.
Young as they were, even their protests were pitiful little noises that tugged at the heartstrings. It made anyone listening want to scoop them up and comfort them immediately.
Bai Tu took the two pups from Lang Qi, and the gray-furred one snuggled pitifully against Bai Tu’s chest, trembling slightly. Bai Tu’s heart ached as he carried them back to the cave, where it took a long session of cuddles and soothing words to calm them down.
Lang Qi’s expression shifted from puzzled to shocked, and finally to thoughtful silence as he observed from the side.
Bai Tu, unaware of Lang Qi’s reaction behind him, was already pondering what to make for the pups to eat. The tribe had harvested plenty of food lately; even with a portion reserved as winter stores, there was still plenty to go around.
The walnut paste sent by the horse tribe had been fed to the pups a few times, but Bai Tu didn’t want to serve the same thing repeatedly—it might make them picky.
No matter how delicious something was, eating it every day would get boring. He’d also made dishes with fresh corn a few times recently.
Letting out a small sigh, Bai Tu lamented the limited variety of food available. There were so many meals he couldn’t prepare due to a lack of ingredients.
Realizing it had been several days since they’d had fish, Bai Tu decided to take the pups to the fish pool to pick some out, enlisting Lang Qi’s help. With his hands full holding the pups, Bai Tu needed someone else to do the fishing. Lang Qi nodded and followed him without hesitation.
When they arrived at the mountain cave, Bai Tu was immediately greeted by the sound of bleating. Sure enough, inside were two newborn lambs with their mother, who was happily munching on grass.
“Did they wander up here on their own?” Lang Qi scanned the cave, which was otherwise empty of animals since all the livestock had been moved downhill.
As the livestock population grew, the smell in the caves had become increasingly overwhelming.
Building the new livestock area was a large-scale project that couldn’t be completed in a day or two, so Bai Tu had temporarily instructed everyone to herd the animals into a fenced-off area at the base of the mountain. Once the new pens were ready, the animals could be relocated.
This decision had left the cave vacant for nearly ten days. Bai Tu had even expanded the small fish pool inside to hold more fish. Now, seeing the sudden appearance of a few animals, Lang Qi suspected they had wandered up on their own.
“No,” Bai Tu shook his head, glancing at the lambs. “They were probably brought here to give birth.”
As the two speculated, Bai Dong entered the cave, arms full of fresh fodder. After greeting them, he went straight to feed the mother sheep. Before Bai Tu could even ask, Bai Dong began eagerly explaining:
“Tu! This sheep gave birth to two lambs yesterday. She was being bullied down below and couldn’t get enough to eat, so I brought her up here. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up after them. They’ll only stay here for a couple of days.”
Bai Tu nodded. “That’s fine. Let them stay here. Once the lambs are a bit bigger, you can move them back down.”
Recently, the tribe not only captured young prey but also started bringing back adult prey whenever possible.
Fresh meat spoils too quickly, even with storage caves that merely slow the rotting process.
Turning it into jerky is a viable solution, but producing enough jerky to serve as a primary food source would require an enormous labor force—something the tribe currently lacks.
While it made sense to process dead prey into jerky, killing live prey on the spot felt wasteful. So instead, they began capturing and keeping any prey that wasn’t an immediate threat to the beastmen.
To make this possible, Bai Tu provided the hunting teams with sedatives.
Once a prey animal was captured, they would administer a small dose to knock it unconscious before transporting it back to the tribe, securely tied up and fed on a schedule.
Initially, some of the captured prey refused to eat or drink and would struggle to escape. However, after realizing they were in no immediate danger and were being fed regularly, most prey animals eventually calmed down.
After a few days of this routine, they adapted to the situation. Once a prey animal no longer displayed aggression, Bai Tu would instruct the hunters to loosen its restraints. The majority could be raised this way, though a few particularly stubborn and aggressive ones ultimately couldn’t be kept.
Because adult prey tended to fight back harder, they were more difficult to capture alive.
Most of the live captures ended up being smaller animals, like the pregnant ewe in front of them.
She had been caught because her swollen belly made it impossible for her to outrun the hunters.
Back in the temporary livestock pen, she’d been bullied by the other animals, so Bai Dong had taken pity on her and brought her up to the cave, where she could receive extra care. Bai Dong’s efforts had paid off, and the ewe had successfully delivered two healthy lambs.
As Bai Tu looked at the ewe, an idea suddenly struck him. “We could try feeding the pups sheep’s milk!”
He smacked his forehead lightly, realizing he’d overlooked this possibility.
Up until now, the tribe’s young had been transitioned directly to solid foods, as they had never managed to capture a lactating prey animal alive. But with this ewe producing fresh milk, it was worth a try.
Bai Tu heated some sheep’s milk, adding a little fruit juice to mask the gamy flavor, in case the pups found the taste too strong. However, his concerns turned out to be entirely unnecessary.
As the milk heated, the aroma filled the cave, and the wolf pups—who had been peacefully napping—began smacking their lips in anticipation. By the time Bai Tu set the dish of milk in front of them, they were practically diving into it.
To make it easier for the pups to drink, Bai Tu poured the milk into a shallow ceramic dish.
But as soon as he brought it over, the pups nearly overturned it in their eagerness. Luckily, Lang Qi had been watching them closely. With a quick grab, he lifted each pup by the scruff of its neck and held them steady while they drank.
It was Bai Tu’s first time seeing the pups so excited over food.
While they had enjoyed his previous meals, their enthusiasm for the milk was on a whole new level. They scrabbled at the edge of the dish with all four paws, tails wagging high and fast, their entire bodies radiating pure delight.
There wasn’t much milk to go around, as they had to leave enough for the lambs, but the pups lapped up every last drop. When they were finished, they even started licking the remnants off each other’s faces. Bai Tu gently cleaned their faces with a soft cloth while Lang Qi observed from the side.
After a moment, Lang Qi spoke. “I’ll come back a bit later tomorrow.”
“Huh? Something going on?” Bai Tu asked, puzzled.
Wolves typically hunted at night and rested during the day. Recently, Lang Qi had been sticking to a routine: having dinner at Bai Tu’s place, meeting the hunting party in wolf territory, and returning to the rabbit tribe by dawn. This sudden change made Bai Tu think something urgent might have come up.
“We’re going to capture more prey.”
“Oh, then be careful,” Bai Tu replied.
It wasn’t unusual to ramp up hunting efforts when the food stores were running low.
In fact, some tribes would capture every animal they came across, whether they needed it or not. The rabbit and wolf tribes avoided such wasteful practices, but if the wolves were planning to catch extra prey, there was likely a good reason for it.
It was just a casual remark, and Bai Tu didn’t think much of it. Lang Qi coming back late didn’t affect him much—he’d already gotten used to taking the pups with him during his morning outings.
It wasn’t until midday the next day, when Lang Qi returned with two lactating ewes, that Bai Tu realized that “catching more prey” was meant to find fresh food for the pups.
With these two ewes, along with the one already in the tribe, the two little wolf pups could now have fresh milk every day. Even the other cubs in the tribe could enjoy some every few days.
Leaving the pups with Lang Qi, Bai Tu headed off to check on the progress of the iron furnace.
Smelting iron required higher temperatures and more complicated processes. Bai Tu could only approach it step by step, testing as he went, starting with a smaller furnace. Once he confirmed the method worked, he could scale it up proportionally.
For convenience during the testing phase, the small furnace was built near the tribe. There was no need for large-scale production at this stage—not only had Bai Tu not yet refined the full process, but the current supply of iron ore wasn’t sufficient.
Bai Tu estimated that the hawk tribe should arrive any day now with the second batch of iron ore. If he could finalize the furnace design before their arrival, he could justify asking for a larger amount of ore without causing Bai An and the others to worry.
From the very start of the pottery-making project, Bai Tu had been designated as the tribe’s key person to protect.
When it came to kilns or furnaces, he mostly gave verbal instructions, only stepping in during construction or when the temperature needed precise adjustments.
During operations, the beastmen made sure Bai Tu stayed at a safe distance, especially since the intense heat could overwhelm even the most heat-resistant among them. No one wanted to risk Bai Tu fainting from the heat.
It took three full days to complete the iron furnace under Bai Tu’s guidance. When it came time to fire it up, Bai Tu was allowed to observe and give instructions, but not to touch anything.
Iron’s high melting point required sustained high temperatures and a series of reduction reactions, which meant that getting results was not an immediate process.
Bai Tu was patient, overseeing the firing process from morning until evening. He instructed the workers to continually add coal to maintain the temperature. It wasn’t until nightfall that they stopped the fire.
After cooling the furnace overnight, Bai Tu led the team the next morning to open it and extract the contents. Among the scattered slag was a small amount of sponge iron—exactly what Bai Tu had hoped for.
The sponge iron would need further processing, involving repeated heating and hammering, to produce tools such as knives and various other iron implements. While there were still many steps to go, the end products would be worth the effort.
Iron tools were sharper and more versatile than stone or bone tools. From containers to knives, needles, and nails, iron was indispensable.
With iron, even the textile tools could be upgraded; the current ones broke too easily and required frequent repairs.
Bai Tu carefully collected the sponge iron, preparing for the next steps. Meanwhile, not far from the Snow Rabbit Tribe, Hei Yan and Hei Xiao were arguing in midair.
Hei Xiao sighed deeply, explaining for the third time, “This is the Snow Rabbit Tribe. Just land here.”
Last time, they had gotten lost and ended up taking a huge detour. This time, while they didn’t get lost, they’d been circling for so long that Hei Xiao was starting to feel dizzy. Once again, he found himself questioning whether he had fed Hei Yan something wrong when he was young—what else could explain this behavior?
Hei Yan, however, was adamant. “No way. The Snow Rabbit Tribe wasn’t this dark!” Don’t think you can fool him just because his sense of direction is bad!
Hei Xiao: “…”
