(Note: For a planting guideline on when to plant crops see
http://www.unrealworld.fi/wiki/index.php?title=Agriculture_(Skill)#Farmer.27s_calendar )
He was spending days burning and turning in the slash and burn method. More efficient by spreading split down firewood pieces across the field to be. Yet his fires took a tree here and there. This was by far the hardest he ever worked in his life. The trek here was never as exhausting as this. Sometimes he slept next to the fields awoken by rains. Food was running short, unless he started eating his seed stores of beans and peas. At least some of the beans where in soil now. So to was some rye and hemp.
On this return from the field he heard a yelp. A fox was hanging by its paw on one of the foxboards. A good catch. Grouse were got now and then. He finished the fox off, skinned, butchered and offered a portion to send its spirit home. Norvus walked over to his tanning tanning station on the bank. He heard a snuffle. Was that a pig or boar? He turned around a tree to see a glutton. A wolverine foreigners might say. One of the dangerous beasts for though smaller it was strong with sharp claws and a meaner attitude than a town drunk who found his wife in bed with another man.
The glutton scampered off.
Norvus blinked his eyes. He hadn’t expected to see one of those. He followed the tracks only briefly. He was still committed to laying the fields. The meat of the beast would be wonderful. There was a balance in considering the danger. He had no larger traps set yet that could catch it. The light style of lever traps it could shrug off.
Norvus changed his mind about fielding. Defending the camp including keeping him safe when sleeping. Setting a heavy dead-fall for the glutton was a new priority. Fortunately he had already gathered wood shafts for the trap roof, stones to weight it, other wood to balance it. What he needed was cordage. For that he split, twisted and tied the the bird skins into a length of leather rope. For bait he would for now borrow the rotting meat from one of the fox traps. At least he knew where to put it, near where it was seen. He piled a stash of rocks nearby as things to be thrown at a trapped beast.
Pride in setting the trap was soon off set by the hunger pains. The meat and fish were consumed. All but a few turnips for trap bait as well. He’d have to spend some time fishing or hunting. Time that would be taken away from the fields. There was some plants sprouting now. There would be a small harvest. Starvation was nibbling at him. He really did more food for now.
He turned a few more plots of ash and soil together. He came back to the camp feeling sad. A sense of defeat. He couldn’t keep fielding. It wasn’t a dreadful defeat. There was many accomplishments done. Had he been unkind to the spirits? Had he forgotten trapping lore?
What was that sound?
Norvus crouched be a spruce. A broad smile grew across his face. There in the brand new big deadfall was the glutton! With all its meat and fur. It thrashed around wounded. The pinning of the stones on the wood was too much for it to break free. A pinned leg seemed unresponsive to the beast’s motion.
The voice of his grandfather came to his mind.
“If you keep doing the right things the goods thing will come.”
Picking up the stash of rocks Norvus begins pelting the glutton. Once it was worn down he’d risk his few arrows. His aim with rocks and arrows was poor. It wasn’t until after two volleys of rocks and two hands of arrows did he register his body was exhausted from the fielding. The glutton now was battered and sprouting four arrows. Its breath stopped. Removed the trap the beast weighed twenty nine pounds. It yielded its hide and thirteen one-pound cuts of meat. The first was offered back to the spirit realm.
The next day the preparation of the glutton’s fur was done. Recalling the troubles in his travel the very first thing he made was a pair of fur mittens. Two more birds had waddled into the lever traps. Together there was enough food for a few more days of fielding.
By the time those foods were used there was only a few pounds of broad beans left. Norvus set those aside in the cellar as a safeguard in case his planted crop died. There was already planted some rye, barley, hemp and peas as well. Not very many but a bit of each. His backed ache. Fishing when tired hadn’t brought up more fish. Berry plants in the area were coming along but were still months from bearing ripe fruit. It was day 7 of the 9th week before midsummer thus roughly the middle of Seedtime. He took a breath to plan what he should do next.
<save Norvus fielding 002>
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