Chapter 11 - Alternate Caloric Sources

I hadn’t wanted to militarize the tribe. I’d wanted to industrialize it. But it seemed like goblins weren’t high-tier in a fairly hostile world full of things that wanted to eat them. In fact, it seemed like, individually, they were the weakest creatures on this new planet aside from bugs and small fowl. And the biggest thing I needed, even more than clay or fire, was more goblins. Plus there were other sentient races to consider. I’d found Rufus during lucky circumstances, but I’m sure he was far from the norm where interspecies relations were concerned. He was half dwarf, half something else—which gave him something of leeway in multiple communities when it came to trading and scholarship. Would goblins be so welcome? The snarling, biting little creatures weren’t exactly diplomatic aces.

There were human kingdoms, presumably with soldiers and standing armies that would sweep aside a small village of goblins without breaking a sweat. The only saving grace was that most of them seemed to be across an ocean. So, we were remote enough and unimportant enough that it probably wasn’t worth the logistics effort to come clear the forest of goblins this deep in the continent. Yet. Armored foes would need more than stone spearheads. And what would happen when the time came? Could I realistically kill a human? Above all else, I was a scientist, an engineer, and an explorer devoted to the betterment of all mankind through the progress of aerospace technology.

We had to get numerous enough to deter attackers without violence, but we also had to be ready when we were finally noticed. The best guard against violence is a big stick, after all. That meant defending ourselves, through technological ingenuity, if not through strength of arms. And we needed more than what woodland creatures were too slow or too stupid to avoid getting captured by goblins. Poles in hand, I took my cadre down-stream.

There were definitely fish in that stream. One of my highest priorities for the tribe was finding a source of protein that didn’t also eat goblins. That would be a valuable food source if the village kept growing, which it would have to do. I had the group fashion a few stone spades using the poles I’d brought and used them to dig up some worms and grubs to use as bait. With the long poles, one goblin jumped on the end of the spade to bury it in the dirt, and another took a running leap at the top to turn up the soil, using leverage and momentum to make up for their lack of strength.

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I’d never been fishing, but I’d spent a lot of time out on the water and talked to a lot of fishermen in the watersports clubs, so I had a vague idea of what you had to do. I arranged my goblins along the bank, each one with a pole and a small bone hook with a small rock weight tied to the base. I went down the line and baited each hook. I had to pull the hooks out of the mouths of two goblins that couldn’t resist eating their own bait before I got everything sorted.

Excellent. Understanding passed rapidly through the chittering bunch, and they started casting. After a few minutes of watching them, one of our goblins had a bite. He started to pull and was promptly yanked off his feet with a squawk of alarm. Whatever he’d hooked—all I saw was a long, dark shadow beneath the water—dragged him through the river at high speed, and the rest of the goblins dropped their poles, chasing after. He was quickly gone from sight. A few minutes later…

This time I assigned two goblins per pole, making sure they knew to let go of the pole, if whatever they hooked managed to shift both of them.

Since there was an odd goblin left, I took him and went looking for the spot I’d noted northwest of the bluff. It took some luck and doubling back over a few criss-crossing goblin paths, but I found the spot I’d marked feathers on the ground. I collected all I could find, and then climbed the tree to see if there were any eggs. As luck would have it, there was one in the nest. It was a bit smaller than an ostrich egg, which made me wary. A bird big enough to have laid this was definitely a bird that could make a snack out of a goblin.

I stole it anyway. and climbed back down. Calories are calories.

I didn’t have to wonder what had happened for long. A distant crack echoed across the forest. One of Sally’s goblins must have accidentally ruptured or dropped one of the fruits. The things were dangerous, to be sure. A plan began to form in my mind, but I didn’t have everything I needed just yet.

We returned to the fishermen to find a modest pile of fish, and a suspicious pile of fish bones. I gave a few goblins the evil eye, but they had zero poker faces. But at least we knew fishing worked. Still, I wanted a plan to pull whatever river monster had dragged my goblin to the depths. I wanted to get out on the river, too. But boating wasn’t an immediate priority.

“Bring back the catch before dark, we’ll fry it up.”

I probably didn’t need to say that. The goblins put a lot of stock in all being back in the village before nightfall. I’d been awake at night, so I knew it was plenty bright enough for them to still function—especially with the huge moon overhead catching the light of the sun at low angles. Which made me think the woods must be even more dangerous at night with predators prowling the goblin trails.