Like a lonely traveler, he walked on the rolling tundra, following the boundary stakes forward.
Feng Shan had imagined the Far North Tundra to be a desolate wasteland. He never expected that the more he explored, the more he would discover the vibrant life thriving beneath its barren facade.
The permafrost layer beneath the Far North Tundra prevented water from seeping downwards. With nowhere else to go, the abundant surface water formed countless lakes, streams, and swamps. These, in turn, nourished colorful shrubs, groundcover plants, and a vast array of wildlife.
Herds of reindeer roamed freely. Wolf packs stood proudly atop hills, surveying their territory. There were furtive foxes, startled hares that scattered in every direction, lemmings peeking from their burrows, and carefree Thunderbirds searching for berries on the tundra. Groups of wild hares played about, oblivious to the world.
Feng Shan even spotted the largest herbivore living on the tundra: the musk ox.
A musk ox was similar in size to a reindeer, but it weighed more than twice as much. The largest bull in the family Feng Shan encountered weighed over a ton. It was short and stout, its body covered in thick, long fur like a yak's.
Although it was called an ox, its horns were different. A typical ox's horns grow from the sides of its head, but a musk ox's grew from the very top, like a ram's.
His great-uncle's diary mentioned that musk oxen had a high meat yield. Their meat was exceptionally delicious—more tender than beef—and was the best-tasting meat in the Arctic Circle. For this reason, his great-uncle had deliberately lured several musk ox families from the tundra to settle in the Crown Territory.
However, Feng Shan had no plans to hunt musk oxen today. They were easy enough to find, anyway. Musk oxen have scent glands around their eyes that emit a putrid odor. They left a trail of stench wherever they went, so one could find them effortlessly just by following the smell.
After marking the musk ox family's location on the map in the diary, Feng Shan picked up the four wild hares he had caught and started searching for a place to camp.
...
On the fourth day of his patrol, Feng Shan started the journey back. It wasn't because his patrol was finished—in four days, he hadn't even covered a quarter of the Crown Territory. Rather, the day after tomorrow was his scheduled rendezvous with Frank, when Tom would be coming to pick him up by plane.
The trip back was much faster.
When he returned to the Hunter's Lodge that had been his starting point, Feng Shan was surprised to find a herd of reindeer on the nearby tundra.
'An opportunity this good shouldn't be wasted.' He took out his rifle, flipped off the safety, and crept through the downwind bushes to get closer to the herd. He took aim at the largest buck.
He squeezed the trigger.
BANG! The rifle cracked.
The startled herd scattered and fled, while his target, the buck, collapsed to the ground.
Despite being only two months old, Prince was already showing his hunting instincts. While Feng Shan took aim, the pup had lain motionless in the bushes. The moment the shot rang out, he shot out of the thicket with a WHOOSH and sprinted toward the fallen buck.
Feng Shan put his rifle away and followed to inspect his prize.
His shot had pierced the reindeer's heart. It lay on the moss, its death peaceful and free of pain.
The buck was large, weighing around 400 pounds by his estimation. Its antlers were thick and multi-pronged, like the tundra's willow branches, and stretched nearly a meter in length.
Feng Shan placed his right hand on the reindeer's carcass. The Witchcraft Bone Ring absorbed its Soul Power, and a warm current coursed through his body, enhancing his physical attributes once more. Still, the roughly 200-pound increase in strength he felt was a bit underwhelming compared to what he'd gained from the brown bear.
Next, to preserve the venison's freshness, Feng Shan immediately took out his knife and began butchering the reindeer.
The scent of blood would soon attract predators from the tundra, as this was the time of year they were storing food for the winter.
His sharp knife slit open the reindeer's belly, and he quickly worked to peel the hide from the flesh.
The four legs had the highest meat yield, so he removed them first, placing them on the moss to cool. What remained were the venison racks and the organs.
The bullet had gone through the heart, leaving a large hole and rendering it inedible. With more than half a day of travel ahead, the other organs would spoil too quickly. With a heavy heart, Feng Shan discarded most of them, keeping only the intestines and the Deer Antler. The former would be used for sausage, and the latter, naturally, would be soaked in wine.
AWOOOO!
A series of howls echoed from the distant tundra—a Wolf Pack, drawn by the scent of blood.
Feng Shan wasn't afraid of them. If they dared approach, it would be a simple matter of one shot per wolf. 'I wonder if wolf meat is any good,' he mused. 'I'll have to try it sometime. It's got to be better than fox.'
Prince, who was gnawing on the reindeer's liver, heard the howls. Emboldened by Feng Shan's presence, he immediately lifted his head and answered the Wolf Pack with a squeaky, high-pitched yip, warning them not to get any closer.
"All bark and no bite, huh? Never mind them, come get some meat."
Feng Shan sliced the ruined deer heart into thin strips with his knife, tossed them on the ground, and called his two little companions over to eat.
Animal organs were rich in protein and fat, which was excellent for the growth of canines and felines. In a harsh environment like the Far North Tundra, organs were a rare and valuable delicacy.
Hearing the call to eat, Prince immediately turned and ran back. But just as he was about to dig in, Coca-Cola sauntered over and deliberately nudged him aside with her body. The aggrieved pup moved away, not daring to make a peep.
"Wimp," Feng Shan sneered, then bent down to cut away the venison racks.
From a reindeer weighing over 400 pounds, he harvested just over 100 pounds of pure meat. He decided to leave the bones this time; they would be too troublesome to carry back.
Once the venison cooled, he packed it along with the hide into a Storage Bag designed for meat. The extra hundred-plus pounds was an effortless burden for the current Feng Shan.
Shouldering his harvest, he continued on his way.
No sooner had he left than a pack of North American Gray Wolves rushed in. They lowered their heads, searching for scraps of meat left on the ground and fighting over the discarded organs and bones. One of them, a powerfully built Black Wolf, stared in the direction Feng Shan had disappeared, a piercing, cold glint in its impassive eyes.
「By the time he returned to Crown Camp, it was evening.」
A layer of dusky gray clouds covered the sky, seemingly gathering for another bout of ice and snow.
Feng Shan set down his gear and, without taking a moment to rest, began processing his reindeer haul. With no refrigeration on the Far North Tundra, there were only two ways to preserve meat: smoking or curing.
This time, Feng Shan planned to smoke half the venison and use the other half to make sausage. Curing was out of the question; he had used most of the camp's salt on the bear meat, and what was left was just enough for his daily cooking.
Before smoking the venison, he first trimmed the fascia from the meat to be dried separately. Then, he cut the venison into long strips and hung them on a drying rack to let the blood drain out.
He followed the traditional process for the deerskin, stretching it on a wooden frame first. For now, he set it aside; he had too much on his plate to deal with scraping the fat off the hide.
He had used up all the fir branches and leaves he'd collected while smoking the bear meat two days prior, so Feng Shan made a quick trip to the Moonlight Forest to chop down another large bundle.
As white smoke began to puff from the smokehouse once more, the task of processing the venison was, for the moment, complete.
The small wooden shed was already packed with cured bear meat, smoked bear meat, and bear sausages. When the smoked venison was done, he feared there would be no place left to hang it.
'I'll have to find time to build a new food pantry,' he thought. 'Otherwise, there'll be nowhere to store my winter provisions.'
Feng Shan selected a strip of venison tenderloin and headed into the bus.
Pan-fried venison steaks for dinner.
...