American Hunting: Starting with Solitary Life in the Wilderness

Chapter 166 Fish! A marine-descent stream trout!

tenth day.

Lin Yu'an woke up precisely at dawn. The deep sleep last night had restored most of his strength, but the soreness from carrying the stones still lingered deep in his muscles.

Instead of starting work immediately, he first conducted a routine "inspection".

There are more and denser ice floes on the beach than yesterday, crowding at the entrance to the fjord like a white gate slowly closing.

He didn't have much time left to collect seafood.

He engaged in predatory harvesting again, adding large quantities of mussels and whelks to his "seafood holding tank."

Then they quickly checked the traps and fishing devices—still no luck.

He no longer cared about this; he now had enough food reserves to devote all his energy to the construction of the shelter.

Back at the construction site, his gaze fell upon the neatly stacked pile of timber next to the shelter.

He had prepared those eight dead spruce logs, cut into standard three-meter lengths with a handsaw, several days in advance.

"Everyone, today we will begin building the main structure of the shelter—the wooden walls."

"I plan to make a trapezoidal frame, fix it to the top of the stone wall, and then gradually add logs."

"But there are two core problems to be solved in order to build this wooden wall."

"First, how to make the first layer of logs sit firmly on the uneven stone base."

"Second, how to securely lock the logs of the two walls together at the corner."

Lin Yu-an decided to start with the longest back wall, which is the wall that runs parallel to the natural rock face.

He selected a log about 20 centimeters in diameter from the eight standard pieces of wood and dragged it to the stone base.

Instead of lifting it up immediately, he first used two stones to wedge it in place to prevent it from rolling.

Then he picked up the sharp, short-handled axe.

"To solve the first problem, I had to level all the first layer of logs laid on the stone base."

He used the axe blade to make horizontal cuts along one side of the log, clanging along a straight line.

More than half an hour later, the last piece of sawdust fell.

He carved out a flat surface about ten centimeters wide at the bottom of the log, which was rough but generally smooth.

He ran his palm over the flat surface and nodded in satisfaction. Then, he turned the log over, lifted it with difficulty, and carefully placed it on the stone base.

This time, the log stopped rolling. Its immense weight pressed evenly onto the stone base below through the smooth contact surface, making it as stable as a mountain.

With the foundation wood for the back wall solved, it's now time to work on the side walls, and that crucial corner.

He selected another straight piece of wood from the remaining seven and flattened its bottom using the same method.

Then, place it horizontally at the end of the logs on the back wall to form an "L" shape overlap.

Now, he needs to cut a semi-circular groove in the upper side wall log so that it can "ride" perfectly on the lower back wall log like a saddle.

But this requires absolute precision. In the absence of modern measuring tools, the best tool is to replicate the shape of nature itself.

He found a thin, Y-shaped branch, sharpened both ends to an extremely sharp point, coated it with charcoal, and then used a short piece of thin rope to slightly spread the two ends of the branch before tightly wrapping and securing it.

A simple marking tool with a fixed opening and closing angle was thus created.

He crouched down, his body lowered, his line of sight level with the two overlapping logs.

He pressed one of the marking tools downwards, firmly against the rounded side of the log below. The other point was pointing upwards, and he gently carved the bottom of the log above with its tip.

Then, he began to move his body, his left hand steadily controlling the marking tool, allowing his lower foot to slide smoothly along the outline of the wood below.

This movement caused the pointed feet above to simultaneously draw a clear ink line on the belly of the log above.

As he moved the log from one end to the other, a perfect crescent-shaped arc was precisely replicated.

"This is the part we need to cut off."

He first used an axe to carefully cut a row of fine V-shaped cuts along the outside of the curve.

This is not only to determine the depth and boundaries of the groove, but also to release the stress on the wood and prevent it from cracking in places that should not be cracked when sawing later.

Then, he took out his reliable handsaw and sawed vertically downwards along both ends of the arc.

"Crunch... crunch..."

The saw moved slowly but steadily through the wood, the sawdust falling like yellow snowflakes.

Once both saw cuts reached the lowest point of the arc, he switched back to the axe and chipped away the wood between the two saw cuts, piece by piece.

Once the grooves were mostly cleaned, the most exciting moment arrived.

He took a deep breath, used all his strength, lifted one end of the processed side wall log, aligned it with the end of the back wall log below, and then slammed it down!
"Boom!"

A dull, heavy thud resounded!
Two massive logs fit together perfectly in an incredibly comfortable way! The upper saddle opening seamlessly encloses the lower, rounded shape!

The following period consisted of tedious but rewarding repetitive work.

He used the same method to process all the logs on the first layer and placed them one by one on the stone base.

When Lin Yu'an firmly locked the first layer of wooden frame to the stone base with four perfect saddles, the most demanding part of precision was over. What followed was repetitive work that tested endurance and physical strength.

He didn't stop; before nightfall, he successfully processed and stacked the second layer of logs.

This time, he didn't need to flatten the bottom anymore; he only needed to patiently make the saddle openings at the four corners.

When the logs of the second layer settled firmly on the first layer with a "thud," the entire wooden wall structure became more stable.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

the eleventh day.

After warming up his body, Lin Yu'an began his daily routine of patrolling without fail.

His life was simplified to the extreme: he would go to the beach at dawn to collect resources in a predatory manner, and then plunge into the construction site until it was completely dark.

Only then would he drag his exhausted body back to the temporary shelter, cook a pot of mussels to fill his stomach, and fall asleep immediately.

He carried the collection bag and walked briskly towards the shore.

The sight at the sea made him frown. The ice floes were even denser than yesterday, with large chunks of ice surging and colliding with the tide, making a crisp "crackling" sound. He saw a large number of ice floes crowding at the entrance of the fjord, like a white gate slowly closing.

Lin Yu'an felt a pang of anxiety, knowing that nature would soon retract all its generosity.

"Time is running out," he muttered to himself, but his hands moved even faster.

Instead of carefully selecting, he swept all the mussels and conches he could see on the mudflats into his bag like a harvester.

The icy seawater soaked through his gloves, and the biting cold spread up his arms, but he didn't care.

Before the harvesting window closes completely, every piece of clam meat is a precious ammunition for fighting hunger in the future.

After pouring a full bag of "strategic reserves" into the temporary holding tank, he did not immediately return to the construction site, but instead turned to the tranquil freshwater lake.

The three flexible fishing rods he had set up had been waiting quietly for several days. He had not held out much hope and simply regarded them as part of his routine patrol.

However, when he walked through the woods and arrived at the lake, the sight before him made his heart leap!
The fishing rod on the far left is no longer taut and bent, full of power, but points straight and abruptly to the sky!
"We caught a fish!"

A surge of ecstasy instantly washed away all his exhaustion! He dashed forward in one stride!
Beneath the surface of the water, a silver shadow was struggling fiercely, pulling the fishing line taut and even making a buzzing sound.

Instead of recklessly pulling the line directly, he tugged at it to feel the force, and could only sense a slight struggle coming from the end of the line.

Lin Yu'an carefully grasped the fishing line, slowly pulled it, and when the opportunity arose, he suddenly pulled it backward, dragging the big fish out of the water!

"Wow--"

With a splash, a large fish was thrown onto the grassy bank, where it thrashed and leaped about.

He excitedly stepped forward and carefully held down the struggling fish, and the camera then gave a perfect close-up shot.

It was an exceptionally beautiful stream trout.

Its back is olive green, covered with strange worm-like patterns, while its sides are dotted with bright red spots, each surrounded by a pale blue halo.

But unlike the common stream trout he knew, this fish was more silvery-white in color and surprisingly large! It was estimated to be over 40 centimeters long and weigh at least three kilograms!
Lin Yu'an held the heavy trophy in his hands, faced the camera, and began his professional explanation.

"Gentlemen, this is a stream trout, but it's not the kind of stream trout you'd find in any inland mountain area!"

He pointed to the fish's body with his finger, his voice filled with barely concealed excitement: "In most places, stream trout live their entire lives in freshwater, and it's considered quite good if they grow to a pound."

“I’m on the Labrador coast now, and the ecosystem here is completely different.”

He held the fish closer so that the camera could clearly capture its details.

"This is a sea trout, which locals also call 'Salter,' meaning a salt-eating creature. Its living habits are almost identical to those of salmon!"

"It was born in this freshwater lake, but it will not live out its days here. When it grows to a certain size, it will drift down the stream into the Atlantic Ocean behind us."

"The ocean is like a buffet for it, where it eats like crazy, growing several times faster than it would in freshwater, and accumulating a lot of fat."

"Then, at some stage of its life, such as this season, it will migrate back to the freshwater system where it was born to prepare to lay its eggs, driven by a mysterious instinct."

"It seems I was very lucky to have set this trap right on its migratory route."

"It has developed a voracious feeding habit in the ocean, and it simply cannot resist the fresh bait I set out."

He gently ran his finger along the bright red spots on the fish's body.

"That's the fundamental difference between it and the common inland creek trout. The common creek trout are inhabitants, while this one is an adventurer returning from the open ocean."

"Look at that plump body, and that silvery-white color that has become even brighter because of its marine life."

"This means it has just returned from its ocean migration and its body fat content is at its peak!"

"This isn't just protein, it's also a valuable source of calories! For me, who's about to engage in strenuous physical labor, this is practically super fuel!"

The air force's efforts over several days have yielded such a generous gift.

That's the nature of the wilderness; it tests your patience and then unexpectedly rewards you with the most generous and necessary benefits.

He processed the fish as quickly as possible, and when the knife cut open the belly, a thick layer of orange-yellow fat was clearly visible, confirming his judgment.

Without the slightest hesitation, he decided to immediately enjoy this precious energy.

The intense physical labor requires a continuous supply of calories, and a hearty lunch is exactly what he needs right now.

He cut the fish into large pieces, but kept the head and bones, as these are the essence of the rich broth.

Other internal organs were also wrapped in leaves, making it a higher quality bait than rabbit internal organs.

Carrying the fresh ingredients, he hurried back to the temporary shelter, grabbed a stainless steel pot, mussels, and a few washed cattail roots, and then rushed to the construction site without stopping.

We'll have lunch at the construction site today.

He lit a small fire next to the cave and placed the stainless steel pot on it.

After heating the pot, he first put several of the fattest pieces of fish belly into it.

There was no oil, but that was no problem at all. The fat under the fish skin melted quickly when heated, making a pleasant sizzling sound, and the golden fish oil soon soaked into the entire bottom of the pot.

A rich, wild aroma of oil instantly filled the cold air.

He pan-fried the fish pieces and bones until golden brown on both sides, then poured water into the pot. The water popped when it met the hot oil, and white steam rose into the air.

Along with the cleaned mussels and the chopped cattail roots, everything was thrown into the pot at once.

Then set the remaining fish head aside for now, still haunted by the fishy smell from the last time at Lake Chirko.

Soon, the water in the pot boiled again, and the soup quickly turned an appealing milky white due to the emulsification of fish oil and protein.

The freshness of the fish, the saltiness of the mussels, and the sweetness of the cattail root—all these flavors blend together in this pot, releasing an irresistible, warm, and rich aroma.

He covered the pot with the lid and simmered it over low heat.

Then, he stood up, dusted off his hands, and turned back to the construction of the wall.

Work can't stop, but energy is being replenished.

As he repeated the process of marking lines, cutting, carving saddle holes, and placing logs, he was occasionally drawn in by the aroma of stewed fish soup wafting in the wind.

This feeling was incredibly wonderful. His body was enduring intense fatigue, but the anticipation of smell and taste was constantly injecting new energy into him.

More than an hour later, he stopped what he was doing; the soup had become incredibly thick.

He didn't care that it was hot and took a big gulp of soup. The rich broth, mixed with fish oil and seafood, slid down his throat and instantly a warm current spread throughout his body!
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

(P.S.: Inland stream trout image.)
(End of this chapter)