Chapter 31 - Reading Material
Back at the village, I started looking through the volumes that Rufus had left. The first was the iron harvesting and smelting guide. From its descriptions, it sounded like we were in the right space and that bog would likely have unharvested iron deposits. But then, the book also said that the iron was fermented by the presence of ‘good humours’ in the water. I had to remind myself that this primitive world might have people who didn’t know what they were talking about. Still, I would need to get some goblins down there and figure out how to get the iron. The good news was that, thanks to the river feeding fresh iron into the bog, the iron was a renewable resource. The bad news was that it took about a generation to restore. And a human generation was about a hundred times longer than a goblin generation. Once we’d harvested all the iron and fired it into steel, we’d have to find a new source.
I needed steel. It was a necessity for internal combustion, for space flight, for rocketry, and though I hated admitting we would need them, for firearms. At least, if I wanted the goblins to be properly equipped against larger-scale threats in Lanclova like the javeline and their own taskmasters. We still needed to do something about predators and nuisances in the bog. The croc-knockers were nigh-insurmountable problems for a species whose technology did not yet include things like nets or helmets that weren’t other people’s skulls.
The bestiary was, if anything, even more unscientific than the iron guide. At least, I hoped it was. It depicted four different species of dragon, six hostile wild cats, several creatures from Greek mythology sporting new names, and had only a rumor on night haunts. It did mention the croc-knocker, the river monster, the javeline, and the stone-sloths.
Of goblins, it simply said “inedible and primitive. Best avoided.”
We were barely a footnote. It didn’t even mention our tongues or ears, which meant this publication must predate the dubious discovery of snorting goblins ears to raise elven banners. Or maybe those were just as unscientific as they sounded—this world’s equivalent to rhino horn and ginseng.
In the late afternoon I spent time helping Sally design a snare for the wranglers. It was basically a hollowed out wooden pole with a loop of cord, similar to what you’d see in an old-timey cartoon with a dog catcher. But enough of them looped around the throat of a night haunt should let the wranglers bring them down and finish them. After sawing a pole in half, we scraped out a hollow and fed the loop of cord through. Then we sealed the pole back together with resin and more cordage.
A few minutes later, Chuck rode up the lift and jogged over, eyes wide. I held the prototype out for him, and he admired it, working the loop. I’d designed it with notches in the back and knots in the cordage, so that the loop could be pulled taut and set with the notches.
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“Fantastic, boss! This’ll make roundin’ up more rides a breeze. Might even get one or two o’ those meat pens occupied.”
“That’s not all they’re for,” I said. I measured out the pole. It was half again as long as a hobgoblin. “Long enough to keep away from a night-haunt’s claws, yeah?”
Chuck grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Tonight’s the night, then?”
“Make sure each of your wranglers has one ready.”
“Got it, boss!”
I wanted to make sure every wrangler had these tonight. We needed more night haunt hides. Especially since I’d crashed the first one.
Just after we finished that, Neil came back to the village with dire news.
“Fish at the bank ain’t bitin’,” he said. He held up the meager catch the fishermen had managed to take—which might feed a dozen goblins. On a day when half the hunters had been sent to retrieve javeline supplies and sulphur. That was problematic. Not only that, but I’d lost 5 goblins to attrition already, bringing the tribe’s total back down to 71.
“We might have overfished the river,” I said.
“Still fish,” said Neil. “Just deeper.”
Hmm… That wasn’t an impossible challenge. The solution was simple, really: boating. I should have created boats for the goblins right after I made fishing poles and lures. The fact that we, as a civilization, had invented gliders before boats was unheard of on Earth. But since goblins had no recourse against aquatic predators, I had wanted them safely on land. And since goblins had super-light bodies, it made them ideal pilots for unpowered flight. But gliders weren’t going to keep a growing population fed. Fishing was a staple until we could get livestock. To get livestock, I needed more wranglers. I already had Buzz’ crew building simple fenced paddocks at the base of the bluff for the wranglers to use, but so far they just contained some cliffords (who couldn’t climb or abide heights, according to Chuck) while the stone-sloth cub still had its enclosure at the top of the bluff when the wranglers weren’t carrying it around and coddling it with bits of cooked meat.
“Alright. Bring me Sally.”
Neil motioned to one of his fishers, who bounded off in the direction of the engineering division.
I sat down to sketch out some designs on bark. By the time Sally came by, I had two designs for platform boats with pontoons that would allow goblins to get to deeper water and be stable enough for several of them to fish off of. I also had an addition to one of the glider designs that got Sally extremely excited.
“Split your team, half and half. These are the priorities,” I said.
Sally took the drawings of the boat and pointed down and to the north. I nodded. “Yes, we’ll have to assemble these by the river. I’ll go down in the morning to do this personally. You work on these gliders. I want two of them ready to launch as soon as we have wing material. Do we have enough ceramic parts?”
Sally nodded enthusiastically, so I sent her off to decide which of her team would accompany me in the morning. We’d take some of Buzz’ construction crew, as well, to speed up the raw materials processing. Thinking about it, if I wanted the iron, I’d have to have them build an out-station to keep the iron-harvesters safe during the night, as well. The bog was far enough away that goblins couldn’t reasonably traverse the distance, work, and return home by nightfall. They also needed a way to deal with the predators in the bog. The high-level croc-knocker would probably devour goblins by the dozen if left unchecked.
Speaking of nightfall, it was almost sunset before the rest of Neil’s goblins returned with sulfur, food from the javeline stores, and canvas from their tents. The engineering crew worked tirelessly with what light remained while the hunters and wranglers enjoyed the windfall that came from having chased off the rutters.
Still, with the fishing growing more challenging and the tribe growing, I had to wonder how many more nights the tribe would go to bed with full bellies. I made sure every wrangler had a snatcher and an extra goblin who hadn’t fed to stay up and assist them. Though my stomach growled and twisted at the smell of roasting fish and actual bread, I held off. The night haunts were critical resources. Their ribs were even better than the stone-sloth claws for framing airfoils, and I wanted to make sure we didn’t end up losing half the wranglers trying to bring one down tonight.