Then he was thrown into the woodshed and left with a smug smile.
The next morning, he was still driven out into the mountains to collect firewood.
Even though there was already a mountain of firewood piled up at home.
When he returned, as expected, no food had been saved for him.
But he no longer cared.
Because he knew, these people would all die tomorrow.
He had it all planned out.
Just waiting for the north wind to rise tomorrow.
A lot of the firewood he had been gathering recently were pine saplings.
These are branches containing oil, which can be ignited with just one match and will burn fiercely, as intensely as gasoline.
He had already set those pine saplings aside.
Based on the recent weather and forecasts, he knew there would be a strong wind tomorrow night.
He would use dry wood and saplings to surround the three thatched huts completely.
The only exit from the house was the door.
Because of the winter chill, the two windows had been sealed shut.
