I am a Primitive Man

Chapter 627: Iron in winter is sweet

The wide-ranging snowfall that followed the New Year pushed north to south. Compared to the southern Huang Guo Tribe, the northern tribes found themselves in an even tougher position. The leader of the Black Stone Tribe looked at the scant food stored in the tribe and felt some concern, seeing the unmelting snow outside the cave entrance. He couldn’t help but scratch his head, feeling that this winter seemed especially long. In past winters, the ice and snow would have melted mainly by now, but this year, the weather remained cold with no signs of warming.

If it were the old days, after having once raided another tribe for food, the Black Stone Tribe would not have had a problem with food shortages. But the issue now was that they were armed with sharp weapons made from iron that had fallen from the sky. These people had become wasteful in winter, eating until they were fully sated at each meal. They had merely stumbled upon some fallen iron – they hadn’t yet developed large-scale agricultural practices. Lacking substantial food storage, they couldn’t keep up with tribes like the Green Sparrow Tribe, which didn’t go hungry in the winter.

Well, it wasn’t that difficult – at least not for the leader of the Black Stone Tribe. After looking around for a while, he finally made a decision. When someone has a handy hammer, they use it for everything. The fallen iron, developed and utilized, had become that hammer for the Black Stone Tribe. The two consecutive conflicts after the onset of winter made the people of the Black Stone Tribe realize the power in their hands and shift their mindset accordingly. Not long after, a group of people, bundled up in layers of fur like oversized bears, departed armed with fallen iron weapons tied to wooden handles.

Some people in the group held iron weapons that were more organized and sharp compared to the others – these were made by adults, inspired by the children playing with them. The leader of the Black Stone Tribe looked at the fallen iron bound to his wooden stick, feeling a mix of pride and apprehension. On their journey, he was careful not to let the iron come close to his mouth. One reason was its sharpness, and another was because the cold iron would stick to one’s tongue.

A young tribesperson had once tried to taste the fallen iron only to get his tongue stuck. It took a lot of effort to peel it off. The young person's tongue loses some skin and sometimes bleeds when eating. With this living example, everyone in the Black Stone Tribe – adults and children alike – remembered well not to eat the fallen iron. Moreover, they made a point to keep the iron away from their mouths when holding it. For these people, not being able to hunt or gather food was almost like not being able to use their mouths.

The group departed the first day and was back by the next evening. They had gone to the nearest tribe. Weak people and meager food, driven by the fallen iron-wielding Black Stone Tribe members, trampled the snow and arrived at the Black Stone Tribe.

Their fate wouldn’t be too good. Transferring disasters has been a common practice from ancient times, a survival instinct inherent in humans. For instance, in the past, after suffering from cold weather, a grassland tribe would lead its people southward with swords, plundering the Han people to recover their losses. The Black Stone Tribe, now armed with fallen iron weapons, was doing something similar.

In the Green Sparrow Tribe, Han Cheng returned, cradling Little Bean, a far cry from the priestly figure squatting in the corner, basking in the warm sunlight. After intense cold and brisk winds, the temperature finally rose, and the snow began to melt on a large scale. After staring at the white landscape for so long, this relieved many people, including Han Cheng, who started to grow weary of it. Now, he joined everyone else in welcoming the tardy spring with cheerful smiles.

Corresponding to the warm spring sunshine was the exuberant vitality. Not just in the natural world outside but within the Green Sparrow Tribe, there was a marked increase in liveliness compared to before. Not far away, children were sticking out their tongues at the melting snowman and the big frog lying on the ground, looking longingly at the bright wind chimes. In another part, a group of women sat working on sewing, chattering away. No matter the era, a gathering of women never stays quiet. But this very noise brought more life to everyday living.

The former Huang Guo women were now learning sewing from the older women of the Green Sparrow Tribe. They had longed for such magical skills since witnessing skilled individuals like Shang making hats from animal hides in their caves, and now that they had the opportunity, they were eager to learn.

One of the Huang Guo women, clumsily trying to sew with a needle on animal hide, suddenly felt something was amiss. After a moment, she put down her sewing tools and, using unsteady Mandarin, spoke a few words, indicating toward the direction of the toilet, and began to walk there.

Understanding what the Huang Guo woman meant, a woman from the Green Sparrow Tribe grabbed her and then led her back inside. She brought out a long rectangular cloth bundle and, with a smile, explained how to use it, pushing her to hurry to the toilet. ⱤＡƝŐꞖÊS̈