Chương 18: Down But Not Out

As Mark woke up, he looked in the direction of his trap. He wondered if it had worked. There was really only one way to find out. So he headed in the direction of the pit trap. He skipped all his other traps, not even looking at them. When he arrived, he thought he was in the wrong spot; there was no hole. Then he realized it had not been triggered yet, so he slowly moved back, finding a nice spot way off the trail to wait and watch. He was excited. This time he would be there to see if the trap worked.

He waited an hour and nothing. Then he waited another hour and still nothing. It looked like his prey was not going to fall for this again, and he turned to head back to camp when he was startled by the sound of a snapping branch. He ducked down and inched forward toward the trap. At first he could not see anything. Then he heard another noise, maybe a bush being pushed aside. Here it came, slowly and steadily. The beast marched down the path. It finally stopped at the edge of the trap, and nothing happened.

It then made two more steps, and then the sounds started. The covering broke, and down it plunged into the pit. He could hear noises as it thrashed around. Then it went quiet, and Mark just sat there holding his breath. Then he realized it didn't sound right. Not like before. Not like something that had given up. He stood up and took a step towards the trap. Then the pit creaked and dirt started to shift. Something heavy slammed against the side. No, it was fighting. Mark froze; it wasn't done. Not even close.

Then he saw it: the snout of the beast stuck up over the edge of the pit. More noise. What in the heck was it doing? Then it lurched up, and its front legs were out of the hole. It dragged and kicked till its back legs were out also. Mark could see some blood on its side. He had wounded it. Mark reached for his bow, but before he could even find an arrow, it was stomping on the ground outside of the pit. And then it gave one last snort and continued down the path like nothing at all had happened.

It didn't even look back. Mark just looked at it, stunned. The trap had worked. Sort of. It was injured but not enough to slow it down. Mark just stood there in disbelief as it just walked away as if nothing had happened. After it was out of sight, he went over and looked at the trap. The trap had worked, just not enough. What had gone wrong? Mark knelt down next to the pit; he could see most of the spears he made had been broken. Three of the harder, stiffer ones were not broken, though. They had blood on them.

Looking closely, he could see that they had pierced it. The bloodstains made that obvious. Just not deep enough to kill it, and most of the spears broke or were not strong enough to matter. He jumped down into the pit; he threw all the broken limbs out. When he got all the broken bits out, he bent down to look at the bottom of the pit. Some areas the spears had held well; in other areas the spears just fell over. He picked up a clod of dirt from where the spears held well and examined it.

It was softer; he could mold it in his hands. He picked up the dirt on the other side of the pit. It crumbled in his hand like he expected it to. The first patch of dirt was different somehow; it clumped together. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. When he pushed it together, it kept its form. Mark pulled out his shovel and added three big scoops of the dirt into his inventory to play with later. He then climbed out of the pit and looked around.

Then he looked back in the pit; it had worked. Just not well enough. Mark decided he needed to think about this problem. He looked down the path that the beast had followed and just shook his head. Oh well. It was time to check the other traps. He could come back and clean up the mess later. Mark spent the next couple hours visiting his other traps. The first trap held a razor rabbit. It had struggled hard, lines pulled tight, stake half loose, but it still held; his trap had worked.

He reset the line carefully before moving on. The next trap held a squirrel. Barely worth the effort, but still something. Further along, a bush hen's feathers were scattered from where it tried to break free. Mark gathered what he could. It was better than yesterday. He reached the stream and found two fish, one a stoneback and the other a smaller river fish. Between the two, he got 23 XP. In total, he had gotten two meat and two hides from the rabbit. Small meat and light fur from the squirrel.

Meat and four feathers and bones from the bush hen. Three pieces of fish meat, three bones, and stoneback scale from the fish. His traps were bringing in more than enough to feed him and to have spare food. With that done, he returned to camp to think. Mark sat down on his camp chair and pulled out some of the new dirt he found. The stuff was pretty interesting. First he rolled it into a ball. Then he took the ball between his hands and smashed it. It was firm but flexible.

He made it back into a ball and slowly pressed his thumb into it. When he pulled out his thumb, he just watched it. The stuff stuck slightly to his fingers as he worked it, but it shaped well, also holding that shape. He pulled out more of it from his storage and started to make a larger flat circle. Not too thick but not too thin. He then started to raise the edges up all the way around the circle; he was pleased with himself and what he was doing. When he finally set it down, he got a system message.

[New Craft Unlocked: Crude Clay Bowl] Ah, so that was what this stuff was. Clay. He picked up his new bowl; it looked solid, but when he pressed it too hard, the edge warped. It was not done yet. Mark placed the bowl carefully near the fire. Not too close but close enough that the heat licked at it gently. Too close, it might dry too fast and crack. Too far away, and it would take forever to dry. He adjusted it once more and then just sat to wait.

He continued to watch it; after some time had passed, he picked it up. It felt different, lighter in a way. Drier, the surface no longer shifted under his finger. Not perfect, but it would be usable. As Mark looked at his bowl, he thought about how much easier it would be to eat now. He had previously been eating like a caveman with his hands off the flattest rocks he could find. Mark then looked in the direction of his failed trap. He thought about his first attempt.

It had hit it hard and knocked it down, but it had gotten right back up. The second trap worked great until it failed. He needed a combination of both. He needed to knock it down and keep it down. He could stop it. He looked again toward the forest. Now he needed to make sure it stayed down.