Chapter 4: Hunting
After the primal prayer, one of the men strapped the fat bird to his body with vines and carried it on his back.
Chen Jian searched the surrounding grass for a nest and finally found three chicks in a hidden spot, chirping with their beaks open.
He caught a small grasshopper, tore it apart, and made two popping sounds with his mouth. The chicks immediately opened their beaks.
Chen Jian put a piece of the grasshopper in his own mouth. Hearing the popping sound, one of the chicks immediately leaned its head over, stretched its bright yellow beak toward Chen Jian's mouth, and swallowed the food he offered.
Of the three chicks, one was strong while the other two were a little thinner. In nature, this difference would only grow more pronounced. Eventually, the strongest would snatch all the food, leaving its siblings to starve—a kinder fate, in a way, than that of chicks who are pushed from the nest to die by their own brothers and sisters.
Chen Jian observed them and noted that they were a bit larger than typical chicks, fluffy and cute.
It was a pity he could no longer look at the world with an aesthetic eye. The questions on his mind were: *Can it be eaten? Is it tasty? Can it be domesticated?*
The first two questions wouldn't be answered until the women of the tribe roasted them, but the last question seemed to have an immediate answer.
The chicks were omnivorous and not particularly afraid of other creatures.
Most importantly, there were three chicks in one nest, which was far better than those strange birds that laid only one egg per nest. This was a very important factor.
He gathered a handful of wicker and wove a small basket, using the same method for making "earth-baskets" in the north. He lined it with a layer of grass and placed the three chicks inside.
Wolfpi watched Chen Jian's nimble fingers curiously, wiggled his own, and finally gave up trying to imitate him.
"Jian, this isn't enough."
"The black and white bear told me it would bring food to the tribe."
He didn't bother explaining his reasoning, instead offering the excuse his tribesmen would most readily accept.
Wolfpi immediately took the small wicker cage, holding it nervously in his hands as if afraid the chicks might get hurt.
After packing up, the group continued onward. Along the way, Chen Jian shot and killed a few more birds. His movements with the bow became more proficient, and his uncle and cousins grew more and more astonished.
There were many birds on their path, and the foolish ones were unafraid of these upright, clumsy-looking animals, so their harvest grew ever more abundant.
More than twenty birds had their feet tied with strips of vine, then were strung together and carried on his uncle's back.
The uncle now dared to pull the feathered arrows out with his own hands, having realized they wouldn't harm him, only the animals.
He had also developed a keen sense of what the arrow was aimed at and what was about to die. He shared this astonishing discovery with the others, who responded with a chorus of amazement and praise, affirming his conclusion.
Ordinarily, these twenty-odd birds would be considered a decent harvest. Combined with the women's haul of tubers and eggs, it was enough to win another day in their competition with nature.
Today, however, everyone was excited, hoping that with the ancestors' protection, their hunt for deer and sheep would yield an even greater harvest.
After walking for a long time, the sound of rushing water drifted from the woods ahead, though the source was hidden by the trees.
Wolfpi said that if they followed the river, they would find a meadow where herds of deer and goats grazed.
Sure enough, after emerging from the dense forest that had blocked their view, a river valley grassland was revealed. The grassland was dotted with unknown wildflowers, filling the air with the scent of spring, and a herd of deer was nibbling on the green grass.
A few lambs knelt on the ground, drinking their mothers' milk. In the Chinese culture of his previous life, a lamb kneeling for milk was a symbol of filial piety.
Thanks to the roar of the river and the direction of the wind, the deer hadn't noticed their presence and continued to enjoy their paradise-like existence.
Chen Jian recalled the tribe's former hunting methods. They occasionally used spear throwing, but it was not very effective.
Once they singled out an animal, they would give chase.
Both deer and goats were much faster than humans but had far less endurance.
As ruminants, both deer and goats needed to stop to regurgitate grass from their stomachs to chew again. If they ran for too long, they either had no time to regurgitate their food, leading to death by bloat, or they simply ran until they collapsed from exhaustion.
Before the arrival of humans, these ruminant animals had been the most dominant herbivores. They could graze quickly without much chewing, digest later when no enemies were around, and flee at the first sign of danger. It was a pity they had encountered the hairless ape. This frightening hunter had finally discovered their weakness.
Searching his memories, Chen Jian realized that hunting in this era was not as he had imagined in his past life. Spear throwing was only used as an opening move when hunting large animals. Nowadays, the large animals nearby had been nearly hunted to extinction. To hunt deer and sheep, what was needed was a competition of endurance.
No animal could be more patient than a human. True hunting was a skill mastered not by instinct, but by intelligence.
However, before the invention of the bow and arrow, the success rate was low. That was why, during yesterday's hunt, the tribe had been forced to snatch half a goat from a leopard's jaws. The leopard was displeased, but there was nothing it could do.
Based on past experience, his uncle selected a few men with the best stamina, preparing to disperse the herd and then chase a single animal until it collapsed.
Because this was only Chen Jian's second hunt, he was assigned to the outer circle of beaters, meant to shout and keep the animal contained, while his cousin Wolfpi was one of the main chasers.
Just as the division of labor was settled and they were about to begin, Chen Jian grabbed his uncle's leather breechcloth.
Chen Jian explained his plan, naturally attributing it to the guidance of the black and white bear.
Everyone glanced at the dead birds on their backs. Out of respect for the unknown and their newfound faith in the bow and arrow, they decided to follow Chen Jian's arrangement.
Ten men circled wide, quietly positioning themselves on the opposite side of the herd. Chen Jian and a dozen others remained behind, gripping their stone spears tightly as they waited.
After more than twenty minutes, the ten men suddenly rushed out from the opposite side, forming a loose semi-circle.
The frightened deer and goats fled frantically away from them, directly toward Chen Jian's position. Chen Jian drew his bow, and as the herd approached, he rapidly shot several arrows.
Because the arrowheads weren't hardened, they were sufficient for shooting birds but far from enough to kill such large animals with a single shot.
Shooting couldn't kill them, but it could injure them.
After he had quickly shot all his feathered arrows, he had managed to hit only two deer and three sheep; most of his shots had missed.
The sudden appearance of Chen Jian's group made the panicked animals turn and flee in the opposite direction. The mothers tried their best to protect their young. Any newborns that couldn't run had already perished; the rest were capable of fleeing.
The tribe was small, so their encirclement had gaps everywhere. But with the men's roaring, the panicked animals, which normally stayed in a herd, could only scatter and flee.
Chen Jian pointed to a deer with an arrow stuck in its leg and shouted, "Chase that one!"
His cousin Wolfpi and two or three others took off after it with Chen Jian, while the rest of the hunters split into groups to pursue the other wounded animals.
The injured deer ran for a while, and when it put some distance between them, it began to cry out in pain. The feathered arrow in its leg tore at the wound as it ran, causing it to bleed continuously.
Wolfpi yelled, preventing the deer from having any chance to rest. The others fanned out, driving the deer onward.
This was the first time Chen Jian had experienced this kind of hunt firsthand. Every time the deer managed to create a safe distance, the men would rush forward again, herding it toward their companions and giving it no time to rest.
Even with its injured leg, the deer struggled for a long time. But unfortunately for it, the group of hairless apes used their wits to circle and trap it. Finally, unable to bear its own weight, it collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily.
Several men began to close in from a distance. The deer watched the approaching figures in terror and tried to stand again, but its limbs trembled. At last, it could hold on no longer and, giving up all resistance, let out a final, despairing cry.
Wolfpi joyfully ran to the deer's side and struggled to pin its neck.
Chen Jian pulled out the splintered feathered arrow. He looked at the exhausted deer, at its terrified eyes, and laughed out loud.
Ordinarily, this would be the moment for an emotional reflection like, "Such is the cruelty of nature," to add a touch of humanistic sentiment. But what Chen Jian thought was that the deer's shoulder blade, lashed to a simple wooden handle, could serve as a primitive *lei* (an ancient digging tool), a simple spade.
He muttered a few words in the language of his past life. The others, not understanding, assumed he was celebrating and shouted along with him.
A typical hunt required more than twenty people to form a huge encirclement, with several men chasing in relays. The number of prey they could catch each day was severely limited.
Deer had good stamina; sometimes it took half a day of chasing before an animal finally lost the strength to run.
As for killing an animal with a single spear throw, that was a skill attributed to a certain uncle who had been eaten by a tiger—a feat that had now passed into legend.
Today, five men had successfully hunted a deer. It hadn't taken much time, either; the sun had only just passed its zenith. To everyone, it was nothing short of a miracle.
Amid Wolfpi's joyful cries, the men's reverence for the bow and arrow in Chen Jian's hand grew even deeper.
Wolfpi even considered carving the image of a black and white bear onto his wolf-tooth amulet when he returned. He felt that today's incredible luck must have been the work of the black and white bear from Chen Jian's dream.
Chen Jian broke a sturdy branch and used vines to tie the deer's hooves to it. Two men hoisted the pole onto their shoulders. He then pointed to a distant hillside, and the five of them headed toward it.
Wolfpi scrambled to the top of the hill, climbed a large tree, and shouted toward the distant mountains, calling for the rest of their party.
The forest was deep and the grass was thick, but the sound could penetrate the dense bushes.
Soon, a few faint but calm replies echoed from the distance.
Wolfpi jumped down from the tree. He found some dry moss in a tree hollow, tore off a piece of bark that he twisted into a cord for a fire drill, and asked another man to help him light a fire with dry branches.
Sweat dripped from their faces as they worked, until finally, a wisp of green smoke curled up from the moss and wood dust. They bent low and blew gently, nursing the tiny spark into a dancing flame.
There was a birch tree nearby. Using a stone, one man made a cut in the trunk, and with a hard pull, tore off a large sheet of white bark.
This was excellent kindling; even after a heavy rain, its rich oils would catch fire from the smallest flame.
Once the campfire was burning vigorously, they covered it with a mound of damp wild grass, sending a thick column of black smoke rising into the sky.
This hill was a high point in the area. With this black smoke, they could be seen from dozens of miles away, so they wouldn't have to worry about the others getting lost.
All that was left was to wait.
Although they were ravenous, the meat could not be eaten until they returned to the tribe. Perhaps this was the beginning of a moral code, or simply a habit forged by a harsh environment where survival depended on cooperation—anyone who broke this rule would be exiled from the tribe.
As the men sat by the fire, Wolfpi took out the three little chicks and, imitating Chen Jian, tempted them with insects while making popping sounds with his mouth.
As the sun began to dip toward the distant mountain peaks, the rest of the hunters finally returned, their excited shouts echoing from afar.
Compared to past hunts, today's haul was a rare bounty: two deer, three sheep, a large fat bird, and many smaller ones.
The men roared, expressing their elation with the few words they knew.
At least for today, in the struggle against nature, their tribe had once again survived and emerged victorious.
Hoisting their prey, the group headed back the way they came, bathed in the pale golden light of the setting sun.