Chapter 13: Wolf Pups and Birchbark Boats
The wolf howled at the crowd, its tail tucked between its legs. It circled anxiously for a few moments, then wailed toward the distance.
"Take your families back to the cave," Chen Jian ordered. "Five of you, come with me."
The women and children retreated to the cave under the protection of a dozen men while Chen Jian and several others followed the wolf, armed with wooden spears and stone axes.
The wolf seemed desperate. Limping on its front paw, it kept a cautious distance from the men, whining continuously as it led them forward.
Before they had gone far, the wolf stopped and whined at a pile of collapsed rocks.
As Chen Jian approached, the wolf adopted a submissive posture, but its eyes remained wary.
A faint whimpering sound came from within the rockfall. Peeking through a gap, Chen Jian saw seven or eight wolf pups huddled inside.
This must have been the wolf's den. For some reason, the entrance had collapsed. There were numerous claw marks on the surrounding stones, some stained with blood, evidence of the mother's frantic digging. The intelligent wolf knew it was helpless and had turned to the humans, whose presence it had grown accustomed to.
The pups inside looked to be little more than ten days old, their eyes barely open. They were tiny and whimpering pitifully.
The other tribesmen, without a second thought, prepared to move the stones.
However, Chen Jian observed the she-wolf for a moment longer. She was still extremely vigilant. He also found it strange that he couldn't see a male wolf anywhere nearby; wolves typically hunted in pairs.
Langpi tapped Chen Jian's arm, motioning for him to help move a rock, but Chen Jian stopped him. "Wait."
He scanned the surroundings again, confirming there were no other wolves, then assessed the condition of the pups. They were still nursing, but wolves have a short lactation period of about a month. These pups were small enough that they would soon be weaned.
After a moment of hesitation, Chen Jian suddenly snatched up his spear and lunged at the she-wolf. The wolf, anxious about her pups, had allowed the humans to get closer than she ever would have otherwise.
The sharp spear tip plunged into the she-wolf's ribs. The tribesmen reacted instantly. Though they didn't know Chen Jian's reasoning, their trust in him was absolute. Five more stone spears pierced the defenseless wolf.
The she-wolf let out a final, agonizing scream and collapsed, her blood staining the ground. Her bloody front paw, which had clawed so desperately to save her pups, twitched a few times before falling still.
"Drag it back," Chen Jian commanded.
Two men nodded and began dragging the she-wolf's carcass toward the tribe's cave. The remaining three pried away the stones and pulled the little wolves from the stinking den.
There were nine pups in total. One had been crushed to death in the collapse, leaving eight survivors. Held in the men's hands, they yelped in fear.
Chen Jian was confident they could be raised. First, they were old enough to survive without breast milk soon. Second, the wolves near the tribe were not exclusively carnivores; they often scavenged the tribe's waste, which included the partially digested vegetarian contents of herbivore entrails. Over time, they had adapted to extract nutrients from such food.
As for the idea that wolves were sacred, wild beings that could never be tamed—if that were true, where did dogs come from?
The she-wolf had not been hostile, even showing signs of submission. But Chen Jian couldn't risk leaving a potential threat. If the birth mother isn't dead, how can a new one take her place? Only wolves raised by humans from a young age could be truly domesticated.
Humanistic care and compassion for all living things would have to wait until humans themselves no longer had to worry about starving to death. The she-wolf's love for her children was a powerful, touching thing. But then, he thought, who among them hadn't eaten an egg? And weren't the rice, wheat, and beans they ate also the children of plants, nurtured for an entire season?
Held by the men, the starving wolf pups began to nip lightly at the backs of their hands, as if searching for milk.
By the time they returned to the cave, the tribesmen had already skinned the she-wolf. Her body was thin from nursing her litter. The people gathered around to look at the eight tiny pups, which shivered in fear at the sight of so many humans.
"Yumqian," Chen Jian said, "you and your siblings will raise them."
"Eh!" she responded eagerly.
They arranged a pile of stones into a small enclosure near the cave wall and placed the eight little wolves inside. The tribe had enough food now, and since they threw out organs anyway, the addition of a few more mouths to feed didn't matter. The children, naturally fond of small, furry creatures, immediately transferred their affection from the three chicks to the new arrivals.
With their mother dead, the pups wouldn't learn her wild ways. They would integrate more easily into human society, perhaps even coming to see humans as their masters.
Chen Jian took a bird's egg, some minced meat, and mutton fat, and mixed them in a pot. He heated the mixture, then added leftover tubers and fern root powder, cooking it all until it formed a sticky paste.
"Feed them this for now," he instructed. "In three or four days, you can start giving them leftover food directly."
Yumqian waited for the mixture to cool slightly, then hurriedly poured it into a chipped pottery bowl and placed it near the pups. Seeing a person approach, the little wolves shrank into a corner.
"They won't eat. What should I do?" she asked.
"They'll eat when they're hungry enough. Leave them for a day. Don't worry about it. Once they start eating, you can move the stones away in a couple of days and let them play with you. Just don't lose them."
"Ah."
***
After settling the matter of the pups, Chen Jian and a few men left the cave to hunt. Before leaving, he told the woman in charge of cooking to soak the she-wolf's hide in the ash water.
Only seven or eight people went on the hunt this time; the old grandmother would assign other tasks to the rest.
Langpi walked beside Chen Jian. After some thought, he said, "Jian, I want to go with you on your journey."
Several others in the group voiced the same desire. Chen Jian shook his head. "We must leave enough people here to protect the tribe. My plan is for a group of ten—five men and five women. We'll go back and see what everyone thinks."
Ten was the number Chen Jian had calculated. It was enough to defend against wild beasts or scare them away, and a manageable size for dealing with unexpected situations. His main concern now was transportation. Traveling on foot would be grueling. At a rate of five and a half days for a round trip, they could only cover two to three hundred miles, and they would be exhausted. He had originally imagined domesticating animals like oxen or horses as their first means of transport, but it seemed he would have to adapt his plans.
They found several large, straight birch trees, each as thick as a person. Chen Jian and Langpi climbed up and used a stone knife to cut a long, vertical slit in the bark. With a great heave, they peeled off a sheet of bark three meters long and nearly two meters wide.
Birch bark was like oiled paper, rich in flammable oils and both soft and tough. The outer side was white as snow, the inner side yellow as oil. Once torn from the tree, it automatically curled into a roll.
"Jian, what do you want this bark for?" Langpi asked.
"You'll see."
They peeled off six or seven more huge sheets of birch bark. Seeing it was still early, Chen Jian led them to a pine-rich area halfway up the mountain. The air was filled with the fragrance of the uncut pines, and the grass beneath them was short.
Using a stone axe, they chopped the bark off a pine tree and carved a Y-shaped groove into the wood. Below the groove, they attached a large leaf, folded into a trough. The "tears" of the pine tree, its sticky rosin, began to drip onto the leaf, accumulating drop by drop.
There were plenty of trees, so they didn't need to worry about conservation. The others, eager to see the final result, quickly began carving grooves into other pines. Soon, hundreds of trees were marked with the strange Y-shaped gashes, their rosin glands exposed and dripping into the leaf collectors.
It was clear that collecting enough resin would take time. Chen Jian sighed, realizing they wouldn't be able to leave today.
Back at the cave, they discussed who would go on the expedition the next day. Langpi was a definite, along with his three male cousins and two female cousins. In total, a group of ten was chosen.
For provisions, they prepared a jar of maple syrup and a jar of rendered suet mixed with minced meat—emergency rations Chen Jian would only eat if absolutely necessary. The process of cooking the fat and sealing the cooked meat inside it would preserve it for about ten days, even without salt. They also packed a large quantity of dried fish, which, if rationed carefully, would keep them from starving for three to five days.
The tribespeople wondered how the expedition would carry so many supplies. Langpi tried to connect the birch bark and the pine resin in his mind.
That evening, Chen Jian taught the tribe how to tan hides using plant ash and alkali, and how to make soap. Early the next morning, before the sun rose, he and Langpi went to retrieve the turpentine. Langpi was impressed; this method was far more efficient than scraping hardened resin directly off the tree trunks. On their way back, they cut down a few small trees as thick as a wrist. Upon returning to the cave, they woke the others to ask for help.
They laid two of the three-meter-long saplings parallel to each other and fixed them in place with three one-meter crossbars, lashing everything together with fiber rope to create a simple frame. They stretched a huge sheet of birch bark over the outside of the frame. After sewing the bow and stern together with bone needles, they lightly roasted the bark with a torch, causing it to shrink and tighten.
They melted the pine resin in a pottery jar and, while it was still hot, smeared it over all the seams. They then added another layer of wood to the outside of the frame, tying it tightly to the inner frame. The two layers of wood clamped the birch bark securely between them. Once in the water, the wood would swell, creating an even tighter seal.
After sealing every possible leak with more turpentine and suet, they checked their work one last time. Langpi helped carry the simple birch boat down the mountain.
The rest of the tribe followed them to the river, where a miraculous sight was seared into their minds.
In the river, Jian stood on the crescent-shaped vessel. Instead of sinking, it floated on the water! The tribespeople had seen wooden sticks float and ducks swim, but even a duck's feet were underwater. How could Jian stand on the water's surface?
The light birch bark was thin but incredibly tough, especially when wet; it was impossible to tear against the grain. Compared to a dugout canoe, a birch bark boat was light enough for one person to carry and could navigate shallow water, needing only half a meter of depth to float freely. Its disadvantage was a short lifespan of only about a year, and it was less safe for transporting goods than a wooden ship, but it was perfect for an expedition.
The turpentine and suet provided an excellent seal, and the light boat had a shallow draft.
The clansmen watched in amazement as Chen Jian poled the boat back from downstream. He pointed at it and shouted, "Boat!"
The old grandmother drew a crescent shape in the dirt with a stick, murmuring the sound "Zhou." A new word was born. With this marvel, their worries about Chen Jian's journey lessened, replaced by eager anticipation.
By noon, three boats, complete with poles and wooden paddles, were finished.
After sharing a midday meal with the tribe, the old grandmother sprinkled plant ash on each of the travelers as a blessing, telling them to be careful. They said goodbye to their families one by one. Filled with anticipation for a new life and apprehension about the unknown, the ten explorers boarded their boats.
Stone spears, five bone pikes, bows and arrows, clay pots, easily ignited baked moss, fiber ropes and bags, food, and all the hopes and blessings of their people were loaded onto the boats.
The shadows of the birch bark boats grew smaller and smaller, finally disappearing behind the vegetation along the riverbank.
Yumqian rubbed her red, swollen eyes and asked a question to which she already knew the answer.
"When will brother come back?"
"When the moon is full again," the old grandmother replied. She took Yumqian's hand and led the tribe back to the cave to pray to the ancestors for the protection of their children.