Chapter 48 of 100

Chapter 48

16 min read3,978 words

At noon.

Lu Ming had been leading 30 army soldiers on a two-day journey across the main island of Tierra del Fuego, relying on a fairly accurate hand-drawn map and a compass to ensure they didn't go off course. It was rather cold on Tierra del Fuego in late March, and the west wind howled fiercely every night when they set up camp. The group, dressed in thick military coats, trudged through the muddy grass and moss, advancing with great difficulty.

They hadn't encountered any indigenous people during these two days, which relieved everyone who had been on high alert. They were expected to reach the hilly area marked on the map by evening, and Lu Ming decided to rest there for the night before crossing the hills the next day to reach the coast. The cliffs along the Strait of Magellan provided a good vantage point to observe the strait.

"Someone!" A soldier acting as a scout suddenly shouted, and the sound of guns being readied followed. The soldiers behind him, without being told, quickly took down their 32-乙 type flintlock rifles from their shoulders.

Lu Ming, holding a 1633 type flintlock pistol, stepped to the front of the group and looked ahead. There was a marsh edge with some short trees. Something was hidden in the bushes, and there were low animal sounds coming from there.

"Fabian, Hans, you two go check it out, be careful," Lu Ming ordered.

Fabian and Hans circled around from a distance, approaching the small grove of trees. Soon, high-pitched shouts and the sound of a brief struggle came from the grove, followed by silence.

The tall Fabian emerged, dragging an indigenous person wrapped in animal skins. The indigenous person was still struggling, but Fabian's iron-like grip made it futile. Hans followed behind, dragging a brownish-yellow wild animal that was nearly dead, apparently severely injured.

Lu Ming quickly understood what had happened. The indigenous person had likely set a trap to catch wild animals and, upon seeing the group, had hidden there out of caution. Unfortunately, he was discovered, but it didn't seem like he was intentionally spying on them.

"Let him go, Fabian. In this place, try not to mistreat the indigenous people," Lu Ming waved his hand, signaling Fabian to release his captive.

The freed indigenous person glared at Fabian, then walked to Hans, snatched the dying animal, and started muttering something. Lu Ming then saw that the animal looked very much like a "grass mud horse," or more accurately, its close relative, the vicuña.

This little incident coincided with lunchtime, so Lu Ming ordered the group to rest on the spot. They ignored the indigenous person who had moved to the side and started preparing lunch. The cooks took out their entrenching tools, found a relatively dry spot, and began digging a fire pit. Others set up a pot. In this cold and damp weather, it was essential to have a hot meal to maintain good physical condition.

The indigenous person was awkwardly skinning the animal with a bone knife by the marsh. Fabian quietly approached the man, squatted down, and pointed at the animal. The indigenous person, thinking Fabian wanted to take his prey, watched him warily.

Without saying much, Fabian took out a sharp skinning knife and began expertly skinning the vicuña. The indigenous person's eyes widened as he watched Fabian's swift movements. Soon, the smell of cooking meat began to waft over, drawing the indigenous person's attention. He kept looking back at the pot, and the soldiers in the front row couldn't help but laugh, some even whistling.

"Hey, Fabian! Come eat, did you make a new friend?" someone teased.

Fabian smiled, handed the complete vicuña skin to the indigenous person, washed his hands, and joined the group around the pot. Today's meal was a large pot of stew with cabbage, radishes, potatoes, beef, and salted fish. The cooks ladled a large bowl for everyone, and they all laughed and chatted as they ate.

"Fabian, your new friend seems to be coming over," Hans said, his right hand resting on the hilt of his knife.

"Don't worry, Hans," Lu Ming placed his hand on Hans' right hand, "he probably means no harm. Matthias, give him a bowl, maybe he's hungry."

Cook Matthias looked at the indigenous person standing nearby, took a wooden bowl, filled it, and hesitantly handed it over. The indigenous person immediately smiled and took the bowl, drinking the soup and picking out pieces of meat with his fingers, chewing happily. The indigenous people of Tierra del Fuego lived by hunting a few types of wild animals, and he might never have eaten such a variety of food before. The salt in the meal seemed to be particularly appealing, and he ate with great enjoyment. After finishing, he looked at Matthias expectantly.

Matthias looked at Lu Ming for permission and then gave him another bowl. A few minutes later, the second bowl was also in his stomach, but he didn't ask for more. He quickly ran to the marsh, picked up the complete vicuña skin, and ran back, offering it to Lu Ming, who was the farthest away.

This guy was quite generous and perceptive, knowing who had provided the food. Lu Ming smiled inwardly and signaled Matthias to accept the skin.

After the indigenous person finished giving the gift, he returned to the marsh, wrapped the remaining vicuña meat in a large piece of animal skin, and held it in his arms. Seeing his struggle, Lu Ming gave him a bag, and the indigenous person said something repeatedly, probably in gratitude, though no one understood.

After packing up, the group continued on their journey. The strange, carefree indigenous person followed for a while but soon disappeared. They didn't pay much attention and continued on. Lu Ming, while walking, refined the map in his hand. The 21st-century map was only a rough guide, and specific details like rivers and marshes needed to be added. This work wasn't in vain, as the group's influence would eventually expand to this area. Tierra del Fuego had oil and natural gas, iron mines, gold mines, coal, good pastures, rich forest resources, and whale resources. Its strategic location was extremely important before the opening of the Panama Canal, making it a must-claim territory for the group.

The muddy grass, moss, and scattered marshes made travel extremely difficult. It wasn't until around 7 PM that they reached the designated campsite in the coastal hills. The west wind picked up in the evening, reaching about 5-6 on the Beaufort scale, but fortunately, it didn't rain. They found a sheltered spot, set up their tents, and rested.

The night passed without incident.

The next morning, the sky was overcast. An hour after setting out, the strong wind started to carry fine raindrops, and everyone quickly put on their oilskin raincoats. At this moment, faint shouts were heard from the hill ahead, and it seemed like a large group of people. Lu Ming raised his telescope and was startled to see about a hundred indigenous people standing densely on the hill. Most were wrapped in animal skins, and the one at the front seemed to be the same indigenous person who had joined them for a meal the previous day.

"Attention, there's a situation. Check your weapons, and make sure the powder isn't wet. No one is to fire without my order," Lu Ming said, taking out his 1633 type flintlock pistol, loading it, and setting the hammer to the ready position. Regardless of the intentions of the indigenous people, it was crucial to be fully prepared.

Maintaining the effectiveness of flintlock muskets in such weather was challenging, and everyone was tense, unsure of the indigenous people's intentions. Soon, the indigenous person from the previous day ran over quickly. He grabbed Lu Ming's arm, startling him almost to the point of firing, but he restrained himself.

Lu Ming, pulled by the indigenous person, slowly moved forward, and the soldiers behind him looked at each other, unsure what to do, but followed slowly without new orders from Lu Ming.

When they were less than a hundred meters from the group of indigenous people, Lu Ming broke free from the man's grip and gestured for him to explain.

The indigenous person seemed to understand quickly, making eating motions and pointing at Matthias' waist, then blinking his eyes.

Lu Ming glanced and saw that Matthias had many bags hanging from his waist, containing salt. He immediately understood the indigenous people's intentions. They wanted the salt. If they had just said so, it wouldn't have been so alarming. However, he still couldn't let his guard down; if they were to fall to these rough and uncivilized indigenous people, who would they complain to?

The group had brought a considerable amount of salt, all refined sea salt, for potential use in gifts or trade. Lu Ming nodded to the indigenous person, indicating that they could trade salt. The man immediately ran back and said something, and the indigenous people became excited, picking up many things from the ground or nearby and rushing over.

Lu Ming was stunned, and the soldiers behind him were also dumbfounded, unsure whether to fire or not, as the indigenous people rushed toward them.

It's over! Lu Ming suddenly regretted his hesitation.

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