The chicken soup was delicious. All day long, Top and I had been eating dried pheasant meat, which was nothing compared to this fresh ingredient.
Sitting by the fire, I took out a slightly yellowed notebook with a thin wooden board on the outside from my pocket.
This notebook was also a tool I made before I left. The paper inside is bamboo paper made using traditional methods, and it is fumigated with sulfur to prevent insect infestation.
A small hole was punched in the thin wooden board on the outside of the notebook, and a piece of ink made of a mixture of toner and soot was tied to it with hemp rope.
This ink can be ground into ink for writing with a brush, or it can be used to write directly on paper like a charcoal pencil, making it very convenient to use.
The wooden spear I used for counting was covered in marks, so I had no choice but to make a thick notebook to replace it, and replace the recorded times with tally marks.
I've written one tally mark every five days, and this notebook already has two pages filled with them. After turning to a blank line, I draw a new horizontal line in charcoal next to the next tally mark.
The blank line marks the dividing line between last year and this year.
I closed my notebook, sighed, and climbed up a tree with Top to rest. We had to continue our journey tomorrow.
The next morning, I packed up the hammock and put it in my basket. After putting on my armor, Top and I headed towards the overgrown meadow.
The weeds are mainly common cogongrass, with some smartweed and beggar-ticks mixed in.
The weather is still quite cold, so I don't want to go fishing. I won't need the smartweed for now. However, I can pick some tender stems and leaves of beggar-ticks, tie them together with thin hemp rope, and hang them next to my basket to dry for later use.
The main value of Bidens pilosa lies in the fact that its leaves, when crushed, can effectively treat bites from centipedes, wasps, and other venomous insects. Now that I've come across it, I'll carry some with me so I can use it in case of emergency.
There's no need to worry about poisonous insects when moving through these grassy areas. Apart from the kind of weird ant I encountered, most normal insects' eggs are still dormant at this time.
Traveling in winter is more arduous, but it also avoids a lot of trouble. I feel that enduring this hardship is far more worthwhile than having my life threatened.
As Top and I walked through the meadow, we started to feel that something was wrong.
The ground ahead began to soften, and we started to trudge forward with difficulty, our feet sinking into the mud.
This terrain made me feel a little scared. What's the most dangerous thing about grasslands? Is it poisonous snakes and insects? No, the most dangerous thing is the swamp hidden underfoot that you can't see.
Swamps are known as devils that devour people without spitting out bones, forming two opposite extremes with the extremely arid desert.
I held the spear in my hand and used the tip to probe the way. I could tell whether the soil was loose or firm by the depth at which the spearhead pierced the ground.
On solid ground, a spear can only penetrate a few centimeters at most, but in swampy areas, it can easily pierce all the way to the bottom.
I couldn't be careless with this terrain, so after calling Top back, I made sure it stayed on my shoulder and didn't run around.
When I walk, I hold my spear horizontally in front of my chest, so that if something unexpected happens, I can have a suitable point of support to exert force.
But that's how people are; what you fear most is what happens. Just as Top and I were passing a small puddle, the accident still occurred.
When I pointed my spear ahead, the ground ahead was clearly solid, but when I stepped onto it, I found that my feet couldn't be pulled out and sank rapidly.
Only then did I realize that I had stepped on something hard, perhaps a rock or something else.
However, the object is not very large. Just now, when I tested its sturdiness with my spear, it was fine. But now that I'm standing on it, it can't support my weight at all.
What's worse is that my feet are firmly stuck to the ground, while I'm still wearing a suit of armor. This armor was originally designed to protect against wild animals, so the only entrance to it is the groin area.
To slow my descent, I immediately pulled up all the spikes on my armor. This increased the contact area and slowed my descent.
My legs are stuck, and the underside of my armor is sinking into the swamp, which means I can't get out of this bamboo cage.
"Top, go tie a rope to a clump of thatch, quick!" I had a bundle of rope in my basket, so I immediately handed one end of the rope to Top.
Top took the rope, but seemed a little confused. I used to do all the complicated work like binding, and Top rarely participated, so it was hard for it to understand what I meant.
At that moment, I was so anxious that I scratched my head and thought for a while. Then I changed my approach and pointed to the rope, saying to Top, "Top, use this to tie the grapes."
As I spoke, I pointed to a clump of tall thatch grass not far away and made a bundling motion.
Back in my hometown, when we went to harvest wild grapes, I taught them how to tie them with banana leaves so that the dried raisins wouldn't get wet in the rain.
Of all these monkeys, only Top has learned to use this method of binding; at this moment, one can only hope that he still remembers how to bind them.
Top thought for a moment and seemed to understand what I meant. He took the end of the rope and ran towards the clump of tall grass that I had pointed to.
"Yes, right there, tie it down a little more."
I directed him, and only when I saw Top wrap the rope around the clump of grass and start tying a knot did I feel a little relieved. It seems Top's memory is not bad.
I tried grabbing the rope and tugging at it. Fortunately, the thatch was quite sturdy and could withstand some of the tension.
I'm now stuck up to my thighs. If I can tilt my body, I can crawl on the mud to increase my contact area and slowly climb out.
The rope was taut, and with my effort, I felt my feet slowly being pulled upwards. Gradually, ten centimeters, twenty centimeters of my thigh were exposed…
Just as I was feeling happy about this, perhaps because it was growing in mud, the clump of thatch couldn't withstand my pull and was uprooted.
The rope's immense inertia instantly returned me to my original position, and with the recent violent shaking, my sinking speed increased even more.
"No, Top. Tie another clump of thatch around it," I called out anxiously.
Hearing me call out, Top quickly picked up the rope and went to the next patch of thatch to tie it up again. But before a minute had passed, I had pulled out that patch of thatch as well.
I wanted Top to find a tree to tie it to, but unfortunately, trees rarely grow in this kind of real swamp, and even if they did, it would require a long journey, and my rope might not be long enough.
Just as Top was about to go to the next patch of grass to tie the rope, it let out a scream. It discovered that its feet were also firmly stuck and it couldn't pull them out at all.
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