The camp is short on food, with only two als a day, morning and evening. After the not-so-early breakfast, it’s a long wait. The fleet’s hiding spot is located between Hidden Serpent City and the second ancient city of La Venta, just over fifty miles from the bustling Holy City of the East. In reality, the nearest Totonac village is only about ten miles away.
In such a dangerous position, as the captain of the exploration fleet, the old Militia Chiwaco had to be extrely cautious, careful, careful, and more careful. According to his admonitions to the fleet, they were...
"You blockheads! Eat whatever you have and don’t think about fighting! Like grass mice burrow into holes, like turtles retract your heads! Damn! I took you out, so I must try to bring you back..."
Hearing the reprimand, the Kingdom’s Warriors and sailors in the camp could only place the weapons they had polished repeatedly and helplessly lower their heads. When the four longships returned from Cuba, they carried nearly two hundred people. But now in the camp, there are only a little over one hundred sixty.
Warriors and sailors of Prepetcha origin are now only half in the fleet. Another quarter of the warriors were supplented by Putun tribe captives from Moqi Chieftain in the Great Prairie City of the Short Spear tribe. As for the last quarter of sailors, their sources are mixed, all converted to the Chief Divine. Among them are Vastek people, Taino people, and even Totonac people...
Fortunately, in this era, most Arican tribes have only tribal and faith identifications and do not have much national consciousness. Totonac people from different tribes do not feel any ntal burden when fighting each other. And the fleet has been here for so long, apart from food shortages and difficult supplies, there haven’t been too many instabilities.
"Food... things to eat..."
Thinking of this, the old Militia sighed deeply. With the fleet’s strength, they could break through the Totonac village and grab enough food. However, that would an completely exposing their tracks and facing thousands of tribal warriors and militia in Hidden Serpent City. Deep in the old Militia’s heart, he also rejected such slaughter and plunder.
"Chief Divine! I must try to take you back..."
The old Militia Chiwaco muttered, carrying a simple fishing rod to the lagoon near the camp. Many kingdom’s sailors were also spread along the lake shore, fishing or catching fish.
On the outer side, Putun tribe warriors, carrying Hunting Bow, are searching in the surrounding jungle, hunting Flying Birds, grass mice, and wild rabbits. They have another duty, which is to intimidate and expel passing Totonac hunters, preventing the kingdom’s warriors from being exposed. Although the Maya Barbarian Tribe appearing here is strange, it’s far better than the appearance of the xica people.
"...The fish in the lake are getting fewer..."
The old Militia Chiwaco squatted by the lagoon and fished all afternoon. Under the dull gaze of the Dark Snake and Didi, he only caught two small fish the size of a palm.
Indeed, so many people have been stuck here for nearly three months. The fishing resource in the water and the hunt in the forest have almost been entirely caught. And the only stable food source is the secret grain supply from the Maya oar-sail ship coming from Hidden Serpent City every six days. That’s the rchant ship of the Mayan rchants Tikalo, sohow running even faster than the longship.
"Today is the fifth day... a ship should co tomorrow, though not sure how much food it can bring... Hm... anyhow, at least let everyone have a good al and cheer up a bit..."
Thinking of this, old Militia Chiwaco licked his dry lips, handing the basket with small fish to Dark Snake.
During the spring planting season, food from each tribe was very tight. The Totonac people have been constantly fighting, transporting food westward. There are fewer and fewer food supplies in the markets outside the city. He really didn’t expect much, just to buy so pumpkin mush and kidney beans for a nice al.
The sun leaned west, and the lake was so clear that not a fish feather was visible. Even for the Taino people who are skilled at fishing, there was nothing they could do about this situation. Chiwaco had to pack up his fishing rod and accompany the farming-savvy Didi to a flat spot by the little river. There, so soil had been dug out, and a large expanse of thriving cassava had been planted, all results of his diligent work over two or three months.
"Great! Really great! Just plant these cassava and they’ll survive, they’ve grown so many new shoots, truly good crops!"
Old Militia Chiwaco looked around, patted the new shoots of cassava, pulled out so weeds, his old face blossod with delight. The fleet stayed here longer than he anticipated. The first batch of cassava taken from the Water Chief of the Great Tribe Mayali has sprouted and couldn’t be stored anymore.
He had to plant these cassava plants on a fertile piece of land by the river, piling up the soil to plant them. Unexpectedly, this high-yield crop is so easy to cultivate, even weeds can’t outgrow them.
"Good, so good! Just as good as Chief Divine!"
The old Militia murmured again with satisfaction, pondering how much longer they had to stay here. Looking at the growth montum of the cassava field, in a little more than half a year, this batch of cassava could be stably harvested. If it doesn’t work out, then plant the last batch of cassava taken from the Forest Ridge Tribe before leaving Cuba here... as long as the fields are cultivated, endure patiently for a year, the blind-eyed Majesty should be able to break through right?
After checking on the cassava field, the old Militia returned to the camp with a smile. The sky had gradually darkened, and the smoke from the cooking fires could no longer be seen. Only then did the camp stir up bonfires, set up large clay pots, began cooking fish soup with wild greens, and roasting various small beasts and insects. The evening breeze wafted with curious aromas everywhere, making the old Militia’s stomach growl.
Everyone gathered, drank several bowls of warm wild green fish soup, ate so soaked pumpkin mush, and felt entirely comfortable. As for the hardly caught fish, Chiwaco only ate a small piece, letting Tilan, Tidan, Dark Snake, and Didi, the four children eat the rest.
Night fell gently, the moonlight bright, clouds floating on the horizon. The seaside wind from the east carried a salty fishy scent. The strong wind blowing on the leaders of the fleet made their disheveled hair even ssier.
"The peak of the rainy season is coming! Another rainy season... it’s been a year and a half since we set sail from Crow City!"
Divine Revelation Priest Kate exclaid sitting by the fire. Then he tasted his fingers and stretched them into the wind to feel the breeze, his eyebrow raised.
"A strong wind from the sea, afraid there’s going to be a storm!... Tomorrow morning, have the warriors cut so wood and fortify the camp..."
"A storm is coming... in a day or two at most..."
Old Militia Chiwaco squinted at the eastern clouds. After drifting on the sea for so long, the Caribbean’s climate had beco like a temperantal friend, familiar to everyone.
"Strong wind and heavy rain... Tomorrow’s grain delivery needs to be stored well, covered with that waterproof rubber..."
"We must find a way to store more food... We don’t know how much longer we’ll be stuck here!..."
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