It was strange to see the world around me from this point on, as if I was looking through my fingers, knowing that this place is not home, not Earth, pushing this knowledge into the back of my thick skull, ignoring it. Losing some of those fingers made me realize - I was going through this whole thing wrong, rather unable to act differently. Call it instinct, or fixation on reality. Everything was a whole lot less logical than I thought... If I was a lost person in the woods - I'd be just fine, but I was some place different and unknown... I should not have behaved as I did. I didn't pity myself, not in the slightest, well... maybe just a bit.
My eyes watered from looking at the flames, eyelids and forehead becoming hot from the radiating heat. Smell of smoke was always rather pleasant to me, even now it was comforting. Even in this dire situation, only a few minutes alone with my thoughts, staring into the bright dance of the fire, was enough for me to regain my composure. That and the fact that my stomach decided to announce that I was all right and hungry. My fingers dug into my own skin, as if trying to choke the loud and obnoxious organ into silence, I already knew that I felt hunger, no need for the rumbling and pain.
"Still no food...." - Well, some people are more talented than others, as for me - even in this situation I had only a semblance of a skill-set and a grain of knowledge. I was too overconfident in my own skill-set, too much unneeded bravado nearly cost me greatly. Simply put - I would miss food even if it was laying right before me.
Something that I planned to use as some sticks or a source of thatch - has caught my eye, well - eyes, as I still had both intact. Yes - the paper-leaf stems, they looked a bit soggy - a bit rotten maybe, but that's the point. They looked soft enough to eat. Though my thoughts changed as I picked one of the stems with the good hand. It was still solid as a stick - albeit a bit more springy than before. Considering I was already dying from starvation slowly, I nibbled on the stem. A little bit unexpected, I'd shout food ex-machina if I'd see this same situation in a movie.
"Fuck me under and over with a broom handle..food" - the stems weren’t solid after spoiling for some time, they were edible, a bit crunchy and chewy, but fucking edible. I never imagined that I would be so happy to feel the taste of raw onion in my mouth. If it behaved in a similar fashion, then roasting the new food-source would make the paper-leaf stems even more delicious, caramelized and sweet.
It's not worth explaining how tasty the slightly roasted stems were, especially for a hunger driven, injured person on the verge of loosing his mind. I'd settle on - bloody fucking amazing. Something was a simple piece of dry wood, became food after a few days lying in the shade, not unseen in my old world, but truly not something I'd expect right now. Somehow my stomach felt as if I'd eaten a lot more than I did, probably the stems were a bit heavy on the stomach right now, but I could live with that.
Without further delay I decided to stockpile the stems a bit, if they required a bit of lying around - then better start early. My injury was no excuse to stop working, besides it wasn't as painful at the moment, rather painless and a bit itchy.
...
"Fuck!" - I cursed out loud. Lack of pain has tempted me to use the injured hand to assist with ripping the ugly sack pants into strips of fabric. Really bad idea.. just as I clenched the injured arm, the pain struck me on a few different levels - first, the dull feeling of radiating pain pulsating through my bones, then the burning sensation of needles ripping my flesh. Pulling the wrapped hand to my chest, I stepped on the sack-pants with my left foot to aid with ripping. No time to rest, no time to pay attention to the pain.
"This is my life now.. deal with it motherfucker.." - my right eye twitched a little, seems like everything is leaving a strain on my mind already. I could still taste the metal in my mouth as I clenched my teeth, trying to calm the outbursts of frustration and anger. Really a mess of a human..
The sudden desire to rip the sack-pants was easy to explain. I wanted to carry the paper-leaf stems, and doing so just by hand-full would require a lot of walking back and forth. Hence the grand half hour project - crafting a "backpack". Of course I could deal with a few stems and call it "good enough" but fuck that... no more "good enough".. "extra" and "in abundance" were the only valid options from now on. I had to improve the conditions I was in.. not accept the shitty situation. So a few strands of fabric tied and twisted into an impromptu rope, as well as some vines, sticks and any other debris I could get my hands on got used up in a few minutes as a backpack was beginning to form. Nothing fancy - just a simple upside-down "U" shape made from flexible sticks, along with some "ribs' for sturdiness. Fabric from the sack-pants became the shoulder straps, as it would last longer then the vines I found, which I decided to coil up and use to bind anything I was going to carry. As I thought - it took around half an hour from start to finish, so I didn't waste all too long on the crafting.
According to plan - I took of in the direction of the paper-leaf patch closest to my base-camp. Even though one of my hands was useless, I still carried a thick club-like stick in my right hand. I wasn't going around unarmed any time soon, so a weapon was going to be my companion from this moment onward. Even if it's just a thick stick.
I tripped again, nearly falling face down on a large moss covered boulder. It was odd to see only the lonely giant stones around. Or maybe I actually didn't look hard enough. It took me another ten minutes of walking around until I actually realized that the stones could be long covered with multiple layers of moss and debris. Truly - under the thick carpet of moss and rotten wood - were smaller stones. Flat and round, as if washed my water, which was strange considering I was in a forest, and besides the man eating pond no large bodies of water were in sight. Nevertheless I left my discovery for the time being, knowing that I have stones available was enough. Despite it being good news, I wasn't air-headed enough to smile or be happy at all, I felt a bit heavy and empty on the inside.
Some time later the backpack was filled up to the top with multiple layers of stacked paper-leaf stems, and I decided that it should be enough. Well I didn't know how fast the stems would spoil after becoming edible, but spoiled food was still better than no food in my mind. I had more than three times that I could possibly eat in three days, so if the plants would start to spoil - I would overeat like crazy and go look for more. It was a better option than starving. I've put the paper leaves on top of the bundle, then wrapped it with the vines, securing the whole thing in place. On my way back to camp, I passed the spot where I dug out some stones. My bundle became quite a bit heavier as I added the different sized rocks to the "collectibles". My back felt the weight, and the shoulder straps dug into the skin. Yep, even in a different world - rocks are bloody heavy. At least I wasn't going to make a second trip just to get some stones, all in one go.
"Real men carry everything in one trip.." - well what goes for groceries shall go for everything else, right? How did I live without human interaction? Its been only a few days and I'm wierding myself out already..
...
I saw my reflection as I drank from the stream. I looked like shit, that for one was obvious even without looking. I felt like shit, tired, dirty, bloodshot eyes and the whole lot more. My body won't last long if I keep going in this manner, I had to come up with a better schedule than work until you drop..
Once again - the leaves rustled as I made my way into the little encampment within the bushes. The opening became my little island of isolation, something I was grateful for. A light, almost transparent smoke signified that the flames were still burning. I sat and stared into the coals, until I remembered the crude cup that I made a while ago, yes - the one that looked like a dog made it. Well - it dried out enough, so I could try firing it inside of the fire pit.
The dried clay cup found its way into the burning hot coals. To top it off - I added more wood on top, so that the burning flames provide enough heat. Now I'd have to wait and do something else to keep myself occupied.
"If the cup is a success.. then making clay utensils and pottery might be rather useful.." - I started scribbling something on the ground, a simple shape of a doughnut, but a bit more cylindrical. To make pottery - a simple furnace would be useful, and with the current resources - it is easy to make one. I mean in theory - it's not that different from making a sand castle on the beach.
Rest was brief, and in a few moments I was already back to work. What I was doing this time? Throwing a rock at another rock.. yep, that's it. I was trying to break one rock with another, which worked, but not all of the broken pieces were usable. I was able to produce some different sized flakes, which were razor sharp - I figured it after grabbing one and slitting a quarter of my fingernail off. Painful, but I wasn't even mad - that was amazing. I had a sustainable source of cutting tools, which would mean easier time doing... things.. Yes, I was still dubious of what to do and where to start.. Jumping from one task to another.
Speaking of another... another rock split diagonally, making a somewhat triangular shape.. This was exactly my intention.. well - that's the result I was hoping to get, the process was rather clumsy, so I would not be able to produce another piece like that any time soon. What was the intention? A hand ax, something to chop wood with, not an actual tool - but a crude primitive ax meant that I could progress with the tasks I made for myself.
I've put the sharp stone flakes into the pouch where I kept my cutting tools..khem..pieces of glass, and went to try out the new tool in action. Lets say - cutting wood was a slow and tedious process, and I soon got too tired after cutting down a small tree, well.. more of a large sapling. Seems like task that require wood will be more time consuming than I thought.. not like I was right about a single thing here from the first moment on. The cool air brushed my cheek, and I sat down before the fire - looking at my freshly cooked meal.
Yes, I tried to bake the stems on hot coals, which proved to be a rather smart choice of action. The stems became a lot softer, and tasted - still just like onions, but now baked. Sweet and smoky, full of juice - it was a good enough food for someone as tired as myself. There was a huge bundle of stems in the shade, ripening as time went by. Or should I call that fermenting? Either way - I had some stems left, so I won't starve before the new ones are ready to eat. I may be lacking nutrients, but not starving as of now.
The cup I made came out to be just fine, I tapped the glass with a fingernail, which made a slight "ting" sound. As far as I knew- that meant the clay was fired successfully. No apparent cracks, and as it was the test sample - I didn't wait until it cooled down gradually, I wanted some comfort - as such, I decided to boil some water.
To make things different, I crushed the purple-maple leaves and mixed them in the cup. I've put it directly on the burning hot coals. After a few minutes the water started bubbling, there wasn't that much of it, so it heated up to a boil really fast. With a few green sticks, I gently moved the cup from the heat onto the ground and left there to cool down. I wasn't that impatient, and the idea of burning my hands and lips wasn't all that appealing. For the time being I sighed and flexed my arms, though the only thing that relaxed was my body.. my mind wasn't allowed to get even a second of rest. It seemed that relaxing was not such a great idea after all. I got really sleepy in just a few minutes of sitting. A thought occurred to me, it was barely a day after the incident, and I've simply thrown myself into full on work mode, trying to avoid thinking about what happened or sulking. Ignoring things - running away from the reality in one way or another, why does it seem like the easiest way to proceed?
I held the cup to my lips, smelling the dark liquid inside. The "tea" had a somewhat earthy smell, but there was more to it, that taste which I was able to sense within the water - it was stronger now. Didn't mean that it lingered long enough for me to understand what it was. Faint - the only word I could come up with to describe it.
...
Something to note for the future. Coffee, nor any energy drink.. stands even close to the pur-map leaf tea. It felt like a jolt of electricity ran from my across the whole body, strong enough to fry my brain and any sleep that still lingered in it. Tiredness was still there, however it was numbed to the point that I could go on for a few more hours, maybe even more. I glanced upwards, the sky was dark, no moon, no stars - just a solid black colour that absorbed everything that dared to step into it. The forest seemed quiet right now, but I suspected that there was more action within this silence than I could make out.
"Well, there goes my sleep rationing.." - I was left alone with my thoughts once again, inevitable if you think about it. With the day being longer than twenty four hours, I certainly had to shove a few hours of sleep during the day.
"Work, eat, sleep" - great schedule if you ask me.
I've spent the night thinking and doing minor chores around the camp. There was no more smelly dirt around the place where I was flailing around not that long ago. Never thought that I would be using a makeshift broom to clean the soil. Speaking about cleaning - as it was right now, I was covered in dirt after every nap I took, and being a civilized being - I would spend half an hour washing my body in the stream afterward.
"Maybe it was time to make a bed... or something close enough..." - Of course making a bed would be a bit harder than simply assembling a pre-made one bought in a shop, but I was rather sure that it wouldn't be all too difficult. I looked at the bundles of cordage made from bark fibers that I've made some time ago, it was time to make proper use of the abundance of material that I've had at my disposal for this whole time.
"The pur-map is all too potent, I guess taking a nap during the day is inevitable." - I stretched, stress remained -but somehow it wasn't all too bad, like I didn't care that much. I just hope it's not caused by something harmful.
....
Sweat was dripping from my forehead onto my nose and falling to the ground, as droplets of water from a slightly opened sink tap. I looked at the job I've done so far. It looked somewhat bed-like, if you can consider four wooden stakes fixed in the hard ground with a frame tied to them, to be a bed. Two sets of frames were a few inches from one another. One to hold sticks, the other to hold the bedding material.. which in my case was paper-leaves and some dry grass.. the latter still had to be dried and smoked - just in case there were any bugs.
"Building a bed first, not shelter.. seems a bit out of order.." - In reality that was the only option right now, as my wounded hand was in no condition to handle larger pieces of wood. As such - building a "house" would have to wait, the current heat was useful. I chewed some roasted stems while taking care of small things around the camp. Making sure that everything was in at least a semblance of order, so that I can find anything at any given time. Onion tasting plant was a good source of food, however I won't be able to live off of it forever. Sooner or later I had to get something else to eat.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
....
I looked at the seemingly calm water of the pond, the sun barely shined through the canopy, reflecting in the glass-like surface like dozens of fireflies. Standing on the hard ground I could still feel a slight tremble in my chest, I was afraid of the water. Every day I would spend a few minutes looking at it, thinking of nothing, trying to get used to the fear. Yes, I wasn't trying to dull it, to get rid of it.. fear was important. It's been three days already, three days after I've lost a part of me to the monster in the deep.
"Mom used to say that if a wound itches, then it means it is healing.. if that's true then I should have grown a new hand or two already.." - It wasn't an exaggeration, even though there was no apparent infection, the healing remains of the fingers were itchy as all hell. The single numbing-berry I'd take every twelve or so hours wasn't of any help with the sensation. It was driving me insane. It's really hard to stay focused when such a distraction is present.
I didn't fish in the pond any more, as walking inside the stomach fluids of the pond was a self inflicted taboo. I didn't even enter the pond to get the fish-trap out of it.. Simply used a pole made of a long stick and the fishing spear I've had. When I removed the basket out of the "water" it wasn't that surprising that there was no fish caught in it. Not like I had any plans to eat it. I shuddered only remembering the insane craving for more tasty fish that came after consuming it's flesh.
"Still there.." - I gulped in disgust, seems like my thoughts were still affected.. at least I was aware of this fact.
There was slight progress with gathering of materials. Even though I still hesitated to work using the injured hand, I would gather fiber and thin branches. The pile of wood was separated into piles branded - "fire wood" and "for later use". As I was limited in what I allowed myself to do, the piles were stacked pretty high - almost to my chest. Considering the amount of young wood I've collected, there was quite a bit of fiber, hence - quite a bit of cordage I was able to weave.
In the shade the stacked wood produced stood the result of my artisan skill. Yesterday I've made use of more of the clay. Even though it was kind of slow with only one hand, I indulged in "pottery" - making a simple clay disk and layering thing sausages of clay to make a pot shape.. well, a "battered ugly bucket" was a better description.
...
The days passed slowly, even though it seemed to me that I was able to do a lot in this time. For one, I've made a discovery that could mean a new food source. It happened during soon after the afternoon sleep, as I was gathering more wood. As I was picking up another twig - I've notice small black oval shaped stones on the ground, well- at first I thought that they were tiny stones, what was confusing - they were on top of the moss, not buried beneath it. Once I picked it up and was able to see it properly I smiled.
"It's shit.." - Man was I happy to have shit in my hands.. That's a first time for sure.. Well - rodent shit meant meat, and I didn't eat anything but plants for the past four days. I like the food I have, but meat, even from a rat was appetizing to say the least.
Besides, after the long hours of looking at the murky waters, I had some ideas on how to use the addicting fish in the future. What I had swimming in the waters was the best bait in the whole world. One taste and you're addicted.. of course that's if you're not me.
Well.. no rat traps at hand, and the bait is swimming leisurely in the waters, so really.. quite a long way to go until I'm even able to get the meat.
"To get rats, I have to get the fish.. and to get the fuckers means I have to finish "that"
"That" was something I was trying to do, and failing quite miserably at the moment. I tried to make a stone spearhead- well, more like an arrow head. I figured that if I had to throw the spear into the water from a longer distance - I'd have to make something sharper.. The current spear didn't have enough power, nor sharpness to pierce the larger fish from a distance. "That" had a twin brother - "this" which I delayed as it was just a hassle. Trying to carve something out of hard wood using just stone flakes was hard.
A lot of steps to take before you are able to do a certain thing, and when you are ready - it appears that you have a handful of things to do right away, at the same time.
...
The rat traps seemed to work when I tested them, however the ones I've set up in the proximity of the camp - were untouched. I guess the rodents didn't like the roasted stems. Good thing that I was about ready with "this" and "that".
What I've been carving during the eating hours was an atatl. Imagine a club meeting a spoon, meant to act as an extra lever for the purpose of throwing a spear. It was supposed to increase the throwing power by quite a large margin. And higher velocity, paired with a better spear would mean a direct upgrade. What was enough to use in hunting mammoths, should do against these nasty water dwellers.
The tiny spearheads weren't perfect and some were fragile, but I had a batch of them prepared in case I break it.
Something else - quite an obvious addition to the whole fishing idea, something I've done already - a platform above water. Well.. I didn't quite make one, but the bed had the same design - so simple repeat in steps and I had a way to stay away from water while at the same time being a lot closer to the unsuspecting victims. A thin rope tied to both the tail of the spear and the wooden stake of the platform would mean I didn't have to go in the water to retrieve the catch. At first I thought of attaching the rope to my wrist or the belt area of the sack-shorts, but decided against it. Dangerous - that's what such actions would be. Wasn't going to give even a slightest chance to be pulled in by the plant..
After this new addition, my days became quite busy, but ultimately it was a grind once more. Slowly progressing with everything at the same time, recovering and figuring the best course of action - simple description of my struggles.
It's been five days already, passed in a breeze.. that's what you get when you are busy at any given moment, not enough time in the day, even when the day is longer than you're used to.
My schedule became something like: Spearfishing, making pottery, making cordage, collecting resources, weaving at least a basket nearly every day and tend to rat-traps. Most of the tasks already became dull to the point that I performed them without thinking too much about the actual task, and more about the surroundings, being alert at the same time.
I've cut a few larger looking young trees, which were still on the thinner side to be honest. Nevertheless - with the crude tool, and only one working arm - I've spent a lot of time on that. And it still wasn't enough, maybe two thirds of the resources I calculated I'd need, but I wasn't done with other collectibles either. I started going around and cutting down ferns, which I stacked in bundles that were growing with each passing day. The project to build a hut was on its way to completion and that wasn't the only thing that was going well.
Fishing was getting better, besides it's not like I needed a lot of fish. I'd never eat them anyways. But, I've scattered some of the fish quite far away from the camp, and began setting up more rat traps, using the new bait. Success didn't wait too long to follow. The next day after I set the traps with the fish, I found out what the rodent looks like. Ugly.
The noose of the trap has strangled the small animal to death. I'd be sad if you showed me something like that before, now - I was still sad, but hungry for something better tasting than the onion smelling sticks. I removed the noose from the animals neck while holding it by the long rabbit-like ears. It didn't move at all, but just to make sure I broke it's neck. A slight cracking sound notified me that the animal won't wake up, and I held it by the ears before myself. Beady black eyes with no whites stared at me as if the animal was alive. It had a head similar to a rat, but some parts were of a rabbit - like the ears and the plump body ending with a silky smooth, bald tail.
"Rat rabbit hybrid..." - well I didn't mind the looks, but I hoped it wasn't going to infect me with some parasites or the plague.
Butchering it was amazingly easy. The hide ripped open really easy, so I didn't even have to cut it for the most part, just rip it and pull off the carcass. It was thin, which unfortunately meant that it was useless to me. I could boil it to make glue or something, but what use would that be? On the other hand, the meat was pink and appetizing, if you forget the blood and gore, as well as the guts that had to be buried underground. Seems like I don't mind blood all that much, not like I was ever getting cold feet after seeing some crimson red after a nasty cut. The rat-bit seemed appetizing even being covered in its own blood.
You could think that I would cook it on the open fire or something, but as I didn't have proper food for far too long to my liking, I cooked something proper for once. Besides, I could make use of one of the many pots I'd made previously.
Boiling the meat together with paper-leaf stems for an hour and a half, made me nearly drown in my own saliva. The smell... I've made soup, simple and plain.. but god all-mighty kill me if it didn't smell heavenly.. that was a mouthwatering feast like never before. Long story short, the rat-bit tasted like rabbit, and that was by far the best dinner I've had during my whole stay in this place.
That was the biggest success by far, but not the only one. I've also made a pestle from wood and using some water and pur-map leaves, I've made a paste. Finally no need to chew the leaves every time I had to reapply the bug repellent. Well.. to be honest the concentrated oily paste, which was bitter as all hell, could still be brewed.. or.. chewed when in need of an energy boost. Multipurpose paste - seemed really helpful at the time.
Not all experiments were a success though. I've found out that paper-leaf is completely not suitable to be used as a material for boots. It was too thin. Suitable for the role of bandages and toilet paper, but trying to wear the leaves as shoes.. oh my would it be a mistake. The second step I made, left a sharp stick in my sole, good thing I felt it in time, so it didn't pierce deep. I stopped experimenting with the leaves for a while afterward.
Next failure was me trying to be all cocky and make a spoon out of clay. Well - lets say it was for the sake of science that I've wasted nearly three hours trying to mold it. I decided that I'll stick to using chopsticks, and maybe.. maybe.. carve a spoon out of wood sometime I have more free time. Which I didn't.
....
Something else worth mentioning, the state my hand was in during these few days. Itching seemed to fade slowly, but just to be sure that the wound doesn't get infected I'd change the bandages daily. There was no swelling, nor any pus coming out of the wound. A few droplets of dry blood, and the wax-like substance. The web-like layer that kept the wound closed - started fading, as if becoming transparent. On the fifth day it dissolved when I was washing the wound in the stream, leaving only the white scar tissue. It looked as if my skin was molten and stuck together. Well.. that could actually be the case for all I knew. I tried moving the "good" fingers, and there was only a slight discomfort, so it seemed that finally I would be able to use both of my hands.
"More work possible now..." - I wasn't all that happy, work was necessary to survive, but it didn't mean that I enjoyed doing everything. Building a hut was on the list since forever, besides, all the resources were already gathered and waiting to be put together.
...
Building a thatch hut is not difficult, it just takes some time and patience, as well as both hands. Using a piece of cord and a few sticks, I drew a circle on the ground - just so that everything aligns correctly. It was a bit strange to think of how to better build this thing, with the bed already in place, but I tried my best.
I started by drawing an approximate circle enclosing the area which I planned to build around. The diameter of the circle was a few heads longer than my own height, that way I could at least lay down. Everything else was rather easy, digging the soil to place the poles for the frame, bending them together and tying tightly, even the whole process of surrounding the frame with its ribs and placing thatch on top. It went on so fast that I didn't even notice how a few hours later I was tying the last knot on the inside of the hut. That's including the cap covering that one opening at the peak of the frame.
"That was kind of fast." - In reality, most of the work was already done beforehand, as I collected all material and made preparations. What has left me busy only with assembly, and as I found out that didn't take long.
"Can't believe my eyes.." - I truly couldn't believe. For the last week of Earth time, I was struggling without being able to use my left hand.. it was shocking to see the actual difference that it made. I sat down on the primitive bed inside the new dark room, it felt cozy. Separated from the environment, covered from the sun. I lied down on the bed, and without much wait, I slipped away into a dream.
...
After the great success with the hut, I expected the following projects and such to become quite easy and less meaningful. The fact that I had to place five more rat traps proved that luck has its limits and ultimately - me being wrong. More traps meant a better average supply of rat-bits, which seemed to vary from one day to another. Sometimes I got nothing, sometimes nearly all of the traps were presenting me with a delicious fluff-ball.
And as I had more traps, I still had to spend some time during the day spearfishing. But soon I came to realize - I really needed one or two of the fish from the pond, but as my aim got better, as I got used to throwing a spear with an atatl, it didn't take all that much of my time. Even though I could keep fishing and simply let the fish spoil, I would never waste the precious resource like that, but I wanted to keep practicing with the atatl, mostly because it was the only thing I could consider "fun" right now. You have to have something to vent the stress.. well that was my current way.
So I decided to spend some time after fishing, as well as after the midday sleep - training. Well.. more like throwing spears into a target from a lot further away. It proved a lot more difficult, but at the same time a lot more challenging and fun.
That's how I added a bit of exercise into my schedule.
On the next day after the first training session, I wanted to reconsider - yay muscle pain, but pushed myself through the whining and added some stretching into the schedule twice a day. Which was fine, because considering the amount of food I had to eat just for it not to spoil, I had plenty of energy to do all this. For once, I was overeating and trying to work through those calories diligently.
Speaking of the abundance of food.. I started to throw whole bundles of rat-bit skins and guts into the pond. So in a way I was feeding the trap-plant dwelling there, as well as all that fish. Quite a cycle going on there.
...
After wasting some more time cutting wood using the stone hand ax, and inevitably getting tired of using such an inefficient tool, I decided it was time to put my head into it and remember how to make a proper stone ax. Blisters from using a simple sharp rock were killing me. My palms felt like they were covered in bark, but it was just layers over layers of blisters from both spearfishing and doing quite a lot of stuff with my bare hands.
Well, to make a stone ax - I required a stone ax-head.. which required a stone, which as I found out were all underneath the moss. After a bit of digging and picky choosing, I victoriously carried the pear shaped flat stone to the large boulder closest to my "base". I sat in front of a boulder, with a pot filled half with sand, half with clear water from the spring, and started grinding a small rock on the larger rock.. So much fun... But it wasn't hard to do, just tedious. That's what I understood about most of these tasks - they were more tedious than hard, a bit taxing on the body, but still manageable.
The weather however made this tedious grinding quite a bit harder, as it was really hot, and it wasn't even afternoon at the time. I could feel my whole body being covered in sweat, and my head becoming heavy. In that hour that I was grinding the axehead, I went on to the stream to cool down and drink a few times. I am certain that I wasn't just being lazy. My sunburns got better, the reddish skin stopped hurting and started getting darker, from bright red, to more of a purple color, and finally giving up and starting to look tanned. Who knew that a cure for my intolerance of sunbathing would be sunbathing..
The product was worth the effort - a rather smooth looking axehead with a clear edge to it. It wasn't super sharp, but it was enough to cut wood.. well.. I still had to make a handle for it. That was the part that I really had to sort out.. and at least remember something linked to it. Easiest way to proceed was - making a Celt ax, and that the Celt with the same C as citrus. In all truth - the handle was easy to make if you had good enough wood lying around, which I had plenty of. Hoarding habits seem to keep paying off.
So what you want to have is a piece of wood that looks sort of like a club, which I had trouble getting out from underneath the whole pile of different shaped pieces of wood and sticks. I then went on and scraped it smooth and sat in front of the fire. Here was the part that was somewhat interesting - using burning coals to burn through the wood. With the limited sharpness tools I had at my disposal, fire was the fastest way to dig through the handle. It took about twenty minutes to an hour of measuring, blowing on a piece of burning coal and scraping - but the result - a hole wide enough to fit the axehead, but at the same time not long enough to let is slip through. It should hold right around the middle portion, with each hit getting stuck more firmly within the wood. No chance that the axehead would fall out of the handle, unless it shattered to pieces.
Happy with the result, I actually set the ax aside inside my hut, and proceeded according to schedule.. which meant dinner.