Chapter Nine - Telling Time

-Summer-

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“What is this? No, honey, I just wanted you to bring the rocks.” Belbet blinked, looking to the circle her daughter had made. “...Okay, actually, you did a very good job. Thank you, Dahnei.”

She joined her daughter and nephew over at the circle of rocks, crouching down. She cast a glance over her shoulder, just to determine that the young man in the lean-to was still asleep, and sure enough, his pale white lashes still brushed his cheeks in his slumber. She turned back to the kids, and picked up the longest stick they’d brought her. Breaking it off at about hip-height, she stuck it into the ground, digging it deep enough that it stood tall. She made sure it’s shadow could reach anywhere in the circle. Then, she planted twelve of the other sticks at equal clock-like intervals, one for each hour of the day. She wiped her forehead, looking up at the hot midmorning sun, and then back down to the sundial she’d just made. Nodding, she pointed to each of the twelve sticks in turn.

“Each stick is an hour of the day. Since the shadow of the sun is here,” She pointed to where it displayed, only to frown. It couldn’t possibly be 3 in the afternoon… And it definitely wasn’t three in the morning…

Hm. Maybe there was more to making a sundial than just sticking the sticks in the ground. She’d arbitrarily decided which stick was 12-noon, and perhaps that was the issue. ...How was she supposed to find which stick was actually… Perhaps if she waited until noon, and figured out which stick it pointed to, that would work.

“Now, we wait until noon. When the sun is directly overhead. Then, we mark which stick the shadow of this stick,” She pointed to the central one, “Is pointing to. That will tell us where the top of our clock is.”

The children stared at her, mystified. She smiled, “You’ll see what I mean at noon. Now, Eefim and I need to finish the smoker, and you-” She poked her daughter’s little button nose, “need to go check the fish traps, see if we caught anything we can eat for lunch later, hm?”

Dahnei broke into giggles, and nodded, running off to do just that. Belbet turned to her nephew, and the two of them returned to the smoker. “Now, because the smoker has to let the smoke out somewhere, we’re going to make a little lid with a hole in it, for the smoke to come out of. We have to be able to put the meat in the smoker, so the lid has to be removable. It’s also got to have places for us to hang the meat from.”

She got a stick, and started drawing the lid in the dirt, so that Eefim could see what she was thinking. “So we poke sticks through the lid here and here, and those will be the sticks we tie the meat to each round. And here’s where the hole goes. Understand?”

Eefim frowned at the drawing, taking a few breaths. Belbet wondered for a moment if he didn’t understand at all, and was trying to think of a way to explain it again when he looked up and nodded.

“Could we make it out of wood, and then cover the wood in clay? We could let that dry, and then it would be easier to lift.”

“Handles.” Belbet breathed, astounded, “I didn’t think of that. Yes! That’s perfect! Let’s go get some of the wood-”

“Aunt… Can I do this part? The storehouse needs to be built, and I don’t think I’ll be much help with that… But this…” He tapped the drawing. “This I think I can do.”

Here he was, blowing her away with how independent he was. She sighed and reached out to tug the eleven-year-old into a hug. “Of course, nephew. Let me know when you think you’re ready to let it dry, and I’ll check on it and see how you did, okay?”

He nodded against her chest, hugging her tight, before letting her go. She took this as her sign to let go too and left the kid to his work. She headed to the area they’d cleared out for their storage building, looking it over and trying to picture in her head what she was going to make. Her son was banging two wooden blocks together and shrieking in baby language something she didn’t understand, just where she was planning to build.

Going over, she knelt next to her toddler and tapped his shoulder. This brought those dark eyes to her, and she almost cooed.

“Hey, baby. Mama needs to work on the storehouse right now. Do you think you can play outside the cleared ground?” She pointed to the edge of the dug-up and cleared-out area. “You don’t have to go far, and mama will carry your toys, okay?”

The baby’s lips quivered and he huffed, but he nodded, which earned him a kiss on a little lop ear.

“Such a sweet boy.” She praised, before reaching out to gather up the blocks and help him carry them out of the area. Once he was settled under a nice tree in the shade, she helped him drink some of the cold willow bark tea, and then a fingerful of sweet honey.

That should help his crankiness. Belbet thought, before turning back to the task at hand. Hm… Now that I think about it... Would a cache work best? Or maybe a root cellar…The problem with a root cellar is, they were dug out of the ground and had to be at least halfway in the ground to retain any sort of temperature control. But that was a lot of work when one’s only digging instrument was a stick. That, and root cellars were near impossible to vermin-proof, because anything could dig through the walls and into your food supply. And since even if they dug a root cellar, it wouldn’t be cold enough to store raw meat in, it really wouldn’t matter in the end.

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The other option, a stilted cache, was much harder for vermin to break into by virtue of being on stilts above the ground. Not only that, but it would keep things like bears and moles from getting into their food too. And they’d proven they could build a hut, what was the difference in building one on stilts? While it wouldn’t necessarily keep the veggies and such cool enough not to spoil in summer, it’d be perfect for storing things in winter. Neither option was perfect, but with the tools they had and the abilities, the stilted cache was probably their best option for right now. Having made her decision, Belbet got up and went to their wood pile. They didn’t have any big enough for the stilts themselves, or even the basic frame, so she’d have to burn-chop down some trees. The problem was-

Her eyes drifted to the stranger sleeping in a lean-to not too far away from where Eefim was fitting branches together. She couldn’t leave the kids alone in the yard with him there. Even if he was feverish, he’d still been strong enough to walk, which meant he was strong enough to hurt a child.

She clicked her tongue, and moved her thoughts through her list of projects. What could she do instead, while she waited for her sister to get back? She couldn’t build up their firewood storage for the same reason as before… but, she did have an idea on how to make the firewood more useful. She moved over to where their firewood was laying, and began the process of clearing out a space next to it. Victoria had seen this in a video on how to lower one’s heating bill expenses. Back then, she’d thought making charcoal was low on her priority list, since, well, she’d had central heating then.

Now, however, as she piled the sticks up, starting with the smallest, standing end on end and leaning against each other, all the way to sticks as long as her arm and longer, she remembered how she’d seen the young man do the same, before piling mud around it, cutting holes in the bottom and then setting fire to the top of the mount. The mud had sealed the wood, and it had all burnt in such a way as to create charcoal, which burns cleaner and longer.

It took a long while to get the charcoal mound covered in mud, and when she was done, she was struck with an idea. Why couldn’t she reuse the mound? If she made a door, then when she wanted to make the next batch of charcoal, she’d just need to reseal the door and the holes at the bottom and the top! It would work out quite well, she hoped. For now, she dug out four holes at the bottom of the charcoal mound and then settled some tinder and pine needles on the top of the wood in the top hole of the mound. Taking an on-fire-stick from the campfire, she started this bundle on fire and blew on it till it was burning nice and hot.

“What… are you doing?” A voice croaked behind her, startling her near to death. She turned around, her hand at her chest patting at her heart to slow it down.

“...I’m making charcoal.” She explained, “Charcoal burns hotter and longer than wood does, so if we make enough, we’ll be able to get through winter without being cold.” She gave him a smile, when she saw that the near-permanent frown on his face had softened around the edges of his mouth. His eyes seemed less tired. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. I am. Thank you.” Kaion shifted, sitting up. “What is all of this?”

He gestured to the hut, to the racks, to the mud pile. His brow, which had been drawn in pain, lifted, and he turned golden eyes back to Belbet.

“Oh. It’s our Farm. Our home. We’re not nomads, like the other tribes. We don’t travel. We don’t follow the prey. We tame the land, make it ours. We work the land, and it gives us food in return.” She hoped that he could understand somewhat what she meant, even if she was using words he’d likely never heard of before.

“No one in my tribe would know how to do things like this,” Kaion admitted.

Belbet hoped she wasn’t mishearing when she read awe into his voice. “...So long as you don’t endanger or harm anyone here, you’re welcome to stay. Even after you’re healed. We’ll teach you how to do what we do, and in return, you can teach us how to do what you do. Of course, you’re free to leave whenever you’d like, once you’re healed.” She offered, the same offer she’d made to her sister.

He hummed, noncommittal, and turned his gaze back to the charcoal mound, which was now smoking and burning away, flames leaping high above the top of it. The shadows of his lean-to barely hid his face, nearly gone in the noon sunlight.

She blinked, “Oh! Time to check the sundial.” Standing, she dusted the mud off her hands and walked over to the sundial.

“Kids! Time to mark the sundial! Come here!” She called. The children, however, weren’t the only ones to join her in looking. Kaion, having crawled his way out of the tent and using his walking stick to hobble over, stared down at the shadow line too.

She sighed, and shook her head, “At least sit, so you don’t hurt your foot further.” She chided him. Then, turning to her babies, she smiled, “How should we mark the stick? That’s the 12 stick, which means, that’s the stick the shadow points to when it’s noon.”

“Rock!” Mohniit said, pointing to one of the rocks lining the circle.

“Well yes, we could mark it with a rock.” She agreed, “But the rock might be kicked away, or get moved by accident. Any other ideas?” She asked, searching the other’s faces, hoping to inspire them to come up with their own ideas. Encouraging ingenuity would only help their situation.

“We… could tie some rope to it?” Dahnei offered.

“I think that would be a wonderful idea. Can anyone tell me why that’s a good idea?” She asked, reminded for a moment of how Victoria’s elementary school teachers had asked questions.

“Because the rope won’t get blown away, or accidentally moved.” Eefim declared.

Nodding, Belbet agreed. “Right. Now, who wants to learn how to tie a new knot?” She asked, grinning. Beside her, a pair of golden-brown eyes watched her every move, as she led each of the children through tying a bowknot.

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