American Hunting: Starting with Solitary Life in the Wilderness

Chapter 172 Smelting White Gold! (It's the 29th, please vote with your monthly tickets!)
On this day, Lin Yu'an was not awakened by the biting cold, nor by the howling wind.

He opened his eyes naturally in a state of absolute, profound silence and warmth.

Inside the shelter, the light was dim, and the firewood in the fireplace had long since burned out.

But the thick stone walls and the roof insulation layer still firmly locked the heat from last night into this small space.

He reached out and touched the wooden wall beside him. The touch was warm and smooth, without the cold, stinging sensation of the outside world.

"Good morning, everyone." He spoke to the camera, his voice exceptionally clear thanks to a good night's sleep.

"This is my sixteenth day in Labrador, and it feels... fantastic."

"However, passive traps are no longer reliable, and I must adopt a new strategy for obtaining food!"

He stood up, stretched his limbs, walked to the makeshift shelf in the corner, picked up the gloves that had been hanging there the night before, and found them warm and dry after being baked overnight.

Instead of rushing out, he calmly rekindled the fire in the fireplace, then placed the iron pot on it and boiled a pot of water.

He took out a few Labrador tea leaves, threw them into a cup, and a refreshing aroma began to fill the shelter.

I poured the leftover mussel soup from yesterday into a pot and heated it up. Then I took two cattail roots out of the bag and threw them directly into the hot coals to roast.

A few minutes later, he was enjoying a truly "hot morning tea" with a cup of hot tea, piping hot mussel soup, and roasted cattail root with a crispy outer skin and a soft, chewy inside.

After finishing breakfast, he walked to the door, pulled open the heavy wooden bolt, and pushed open the thick wooden door with force.

"Squeak-"

With a reassuring rustling sound, the door was pushed open.

A biting, icy wind carrying snowflakes, and a dazzlingly white world rushed in instantly! It created a stark contrast with the warmth and darkness inside the room.

He squinted, gazing at the lake surface that was slowly freezing over.

"The completion of the shelter marked the end of the defense phase."

He looked into the camera, his tone becoming incredibly firm: "From today onwards, our strategy must change. I must shift from passively surviving to proactively operating!"

He didn't rush out to hunt immediately; one of his pre-hunt preparations was to make himself a pair of snowshoes.

Lin Yu-an plans to make classic "teardrop" shaped snowshoes, which perform best in deep, fluffy snow.

"The most crucial part of making snowshoes is the frame, which must possess two seemingly contradictory characteristics: it must be extremely tough and yet flexible."

He dressed neatly and walked into the silent forest covered in snow. He didn't look at the tall, straight spruce trees; their wood was too brittle.

His target was the broad-leaved trees that grew tenaciously in the understory.

“In a place like Labrador, the best options are two types of tender branches of birch or willow.”

"Their fibers are long and strong, with high moisture content, making them ideal for hot bending."

Finally, he found a dense grove of willows by the river. He selected two healthy branches, each about two meters long and of uniform thickness, cut them off at the base with a handsaw, and dragged them back to the shelter.

He first carefully placed the two long willow branches above the fire in the fireplace, allowing the heat of the flames to evenly bake the inside of the wood.

When the branches are slightly warm from the heat and even emit a faint woody scent, remove one of them, step on the middle part of the branch, then grasp both ends and slowly pull it upwards with a steady and continuous force.

The hard willow wood creaked slightly under his force, like a fully drawn bow forming a graceful arc.

He dared not use too much force, but simply maintained the arc, allowing the fibers inside the wood to slowly adapt and stretch.

Then, the branch was put back on the fire, heated again, and then bent again.

After repeating this four or five times, he seized the opportunity, crossed the two ends of the branch, and used the rope he had prepared to tie them tightly in place.

A perfect "teardrop" snowshoe frame, slightly narrower at the front and rounded at the back, was thus created. He then used the same method to make another perfectly symmetrical frame.

He placed the two frames in a corner of the shelter and let them continue to take shape, a process that would take at least several hours.

After it had cooled down considerably, Lin Yu'an began directly winding and weaving.

He first carved shallow grooves at both ends of the frame to fix the starting point of the warp threads.

Then, he took out those tough nylon threads and began to lay the longitudinal warp threads.

He tied one end of the line tightly in the groove at the front of the frame, then straightened it and wrapped it directly around the crossbeam at the back of the frame, then pulled it back and wrapped it around another position at the front.

Repeating this process, soon the snowshoe frame was filled with rows of parallel warp lines stretched like harp strings.

Next comes weaving the horizontal weft threads, which is the most skill-intensive part of the whole process.

He took another long nylon line, starting from one side of the frame, and began weaving it back and forth among the warp threads, like an experienced fisherman mending a fishing net.

He used a wrapping weaving method, where whenever a weft thread passed through a warp thread, he would tightly wrap the weft thread around the warp thread to form a locked knot before continuing.

His fingers deftly weaved through countless lines, and knot after knot quickly took shape in his hands.

Although this weaving method is time-consuming, it ensures that every intersection in the mesh is firmly fixed and will not slip or deform during use.

As he skillfully operated the mesh, he explained, "This mesh must be sturdy enough to withstand the weight of my footsteps, but it must also have enough gaps to allow the sifted snow to fall through instead of piling up on the surface of my shoes and adding weight."

A tight mesh slowly filled the entire snowshoe frame.

Once the mesh for both snowshoes is woven, the final step is to create straps that will securely hold the feet to the snowshoes.

He used the rope again, cut it to the appropriate length, and used the same wrapping and knotting method to create an adjustable strap system in the center area of ​​the snowshoe mesh.

In the afternoon, when he tied the last knot, a pair of perfectly teardrop-shaped snowshoes were quietly placed in front of him.

He couldn't wait to put on the new shoes, step out of the shelter, and into the soft, deep snow!
The snow, which used to sink deep into my calves with every step, now seemed firm and solid.

The snowshoes' large surface area evenly distributed his weight, allowing him to float steadily on the snow after sinking only a few centimeters.

He tried taking a few steps, then started jogging. He felt as if he had gained the ability to fly on the snow, and his movements became easier and more efficient than ever before!

He stood in the middle of the snow, looking at the trail of large footprints he had left behind, a satisfied smile on his face.

He said to the camera, "The transportation problem is solved. Now, I can scout any corner of this forest."

With these snowshoes, his survival radius was greatly expanded.

After completing the production and successful testing of the snowshoes, Lin Yu'an immediately set about a more pressing issue concerning fundamental bodily functions.

He entered the warm shelter and picked up the simple little salt box made of birch bark from the corner.

When opened to the camera, only a thin layer and a small clump of grayish-white salt crystals remained inside.

“My sea salt reserves are about to run out.” His tone became extremely serious.

"As the bay freezes, the method of obtaining small amounts of salt directly from seaweed or mussel soup will become less and less efficient."

"Salt is not just a seasoning; it is an essential lubricant for the proper functioning of our body, this intricate machine."

"In the wilderness, especially as winter approaches and physical exertion increases, salt deficiency is a more insidious and dangerous killer than hunger."

"A lack of sodium ions can cause muscle cramps, weakness, dizziness, and even mental confusion." "Every time we sweat, every time we do physical labor, we are depleting the precious salt in our bodies."

"Therefore, I must take advantage of the fact that the bay has not been completely sealed off to produce a batch of 'white gold' that can last for a long time."

He put on his brand-new snowshoes, took his iron pot, and walked once again toward that familiar beach.

With the help of snowshoes, the snowfields that he used to have to trek through with difficulty now became as flat as flat ground.

He took each step with ease and speed, leaving only shallow marks on the snow.

The wind at the seaside is much stronger than in the forest, whipping up the snow on the ground and stinging your face like needles.

He arrived at a spot he had already chosen, surrounded by huge rocks, next to a large tide pool formed after the tide receded.

As he expected, the surface of the relatively still pool was covered with a layer of opaque white sea ice several centimeters thick.

He tapped the hard ice with the back of his axe, producing a dull "bang bang" sound.

"The bad news is that the Gulf is freezing over faster than I thought."

"But the good news is that the water in these tidal pools has an exceptionally high salinity because it cannot fully exchange with the open sea, and the material under the ice is the highest quality raw material for salt production."

He immediately began his work, selecting a section of ice near the center of the tidal pool, gripping the axe tightly with both hands, raising it high, and then slamming it down!

"boom!"

Ice shards flew everywhere, leaving only a faint white dot on the hard ice surface.

"Sea ice is based on a very important physical principle. When seawater slowly freezes, the resulting ice crystals are pure water, and the salt is displaced and left in the unfrozen brine."

"Therefore, this layer of sea ice is actually freshwater ice with little saltiness."

"The liquid beneath this layer of ice is naturally concentrated 'brine' with extremely high salinity. That's what we need."

Instead of using brute force, he patiently carved a square outline into the ice using the sharp blade of his axe.

When he felt he had enough, he raised the axe again, and with the back of the axe, aimed at the center of the square, and smashed it down hard!

"Crack——!"

This time, with a crisp, loud sound, the entire square block of ice cracked along the "pre-made crack" he had carved earlier!

Finally, the cracked ice was pried open piece by piece and scooped out, revealing the icy, frigid seawater below.

He immediately used a pot to scoop up the highly saline seawater, pot after pot, from the "water intake" he had carved out himself, and carefully poured it into the waterproof storage bag for his sleeping bag.

He also searched around and found some seaweed frozen on the edge of the ice, covered with white salt frost, which he knocked off with an axe and threw into the bag.

"These seaweeds are like natural concentrated salt blocks. Boiling them together can greatly improve our salt production efficiency."

Lin Yu'an quickly transported the bags filled with highly saline seawater back to the camp.

He did not cook in the shelter because that would produce too much steam and make the room too humid.

Instead, he skillfully started another fire at the entrance of the shelter. He didn't use a simple campfire, but instead used a few stones to build a U-shaped windproof stove with an opening.

This way, the firepower can be concentrated and firewood can be saved. Then, three wooden sticks are used to build a sturdy support, and the iron pot is hung on it.

He first covered the pot opening with a piece of T-shirt fabric, then slowly poured seawater into the pot through the fabric, leaving behind some fine mud and seaweed fragments.

Flames rose rapidly, licking the black bottom of the pot. Soon, the water in the pot began to bubble and gradually boil.

Large amounts of white steam, carrying a salty and fishy smell, billowed up and then quickly dissipated in the cold air.

Lin Yu'an was like a patient alchemist, guarding his "cauldron".

He needs to constantly add firewood to the fire to ensure that the flames can continuously and stably output maximum heat.

As the water evaporates, the brine in the pot becomes less and less, and more and more viscous, its color gradually changing from a deep, translucent state to a cloudy, milky white.

On the inner wall of the pot, where the waterline receded, a thin layer of salt, like white frost, began to appear.

When only a shallow layer of water remained in the pot, turning into a thick brine like rice porridge, he knew that the most crucial stage had arrived.

He immediately stopped adding new firewood and moved the burning wood aside, leaving only the bottom of the pot to be heated by the hot coals below.

Excessive temperature will cause the salt to crystallize into hard, difficult-to-scrape lumps, and may even burn on the bottom of the container, producing a bitter taste.

He picked up a wooden stick and began stirring the bottom of the pot repeatedly.

"Now, we need to keep stirring so that the salt can crystallize evenly into small particles during the evaporation process, instead of forming a whole clump."

As he stirred, amazing physical changes were taking place.

The thick, milky-white liquid in the pot began to hiss, and more and more tiny, moist white crystals quickly spread across the bottom of the pot!
Lin Yu'an did not boil the water in the pot completely dry.

Most of the liquid in the pot had turned into moist, slushy white salt crystals.

When only a small amount of viscous liquid remained, he immediately removed the iron pot from the fire.

"It cannot be completely boiled dry. The remaining liquid is the 'bitter brine' that makes the salt bitter, and we must remove it."

He washed the T-shirt fabric that he had previously used to filter the mud and sand clean again, and then used it like a filter to tightly cover an empty wooden bowl.

Then, he carefully poured all the moist mixture of salt crystals and bittern from the iron pot onto the cloth.

The white salt crystals remained on the cloth, while the viscous bitter liquid dripped slowly, drop by drop, through the filter cloth into the bark below.

A few minutes later, the filtration was complete, and he poured out the waste bittern.

"Although some salt will be lost, the finished product will be of much better quality."

He poured the snow-white, damp salt crystals from the filter cloth back into the cleaned iron pot, then placed it back on the charcoal and dried it with the lowest heat.

This time, all that was left in the pot was a dry, hissing sound.

A layer of fine, snow-white crystals completely covered the bottom of the pot.

He took the iron pot off the fire and placed it in the snow to cool it down quickly.

Then, he used the back of his hunting knife to scrape off the hard-won "white gold".

This time, the salt crystals he obtained were whiter in color and drier in texture.

He dipped his finger in the mixture and put it in his mouth. The intense saltiness exploded on his tongue, leaving only a slight bitterness.

He carefully placed the coarse sea salt into a salt box made of birch bark and put it on the warm stone slab next to the fireplace for final drying.

This time, he harvested nearly three ounces of salt, enough to last him a long time.

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.

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(End of this chapter)