Day 76, The Eerie Voice (Part II) - Bonus chapter for Gu Huo

There were many outlets where water emerged from the cave. Moss covered the openings, each of which differed in position, shape, and size. Some were nothing more than cracks; others were tiny holes, while from a few, thin streams of water welled directly up from the ground.

The rock walls inside were remarkably smooth. The damp ground near the flowing water was carpeted with green moss, and the cave was cool and shadowy.

I tapped the rock wall several times at the entrance and listened, but I could not hear any sound at all. I picked up a small, smooth stone, worn into an oval shape by the water, and used it to strike the wall a few times. There was almost no echo near the entrance.

But after walking about five meters inside, I struck the rock wall again and heard a distinct echo.

So that was how it worked! To further confirm my theory, I continued deeper into the cave.

Seven or eight meters from the entrance, the already narrow passage suddenly became even tighter, allowing only one person to squeeze through sideways. Beyond that, darkness began to swallow everything—but I made an even greater discovery.

There was the sound of water.

Although it was too dark to see clearly, I could hear water flowing. When I lowered my head and looked at the ground, I could clearly see a stream slowly trickling out.

This essentially matched my guess. There was very likely a large hollow space inside this little mountain. Given how much rain fell here, water must accumulate inside it throughout the year, while the cracks and small openings in the rock acted as tiny sluice gates, releasing the stored water.

The spot beneath my feet might well mark the warning line for the underground reservoir. Once no more water emerged here, it would mean that the hollow inside the mountain was nearly drained. If torrential rain filled the cavity completely, then the amount of rainfall would determine the speed of the flow here.

That must also have been why, during the last storm, I was swept away while lying in the low cave beside the stream. The hollow within the mountain had probably filled to capacity and suddenly burst forth.

It had to be that way!

Although this was still only a theory, I felt I was probably very close to the truth. Compared with the great mountains I had seen, this one was small, but in absolute terms it was hardly tiny. It stood some seventy or eighty meters high. I had no idea whether it had been formed by a volcanic eruption.

The rainwater was probably absorbed through cracks at the summit, which meant that this mountain was essentially a natural reservoir. It was precisely because of it that the island could support so many animals, as well as freshwater fish and shrimp.

I now had a basic understanding of the stream’s source. Most of it was still speculation, of course, but at least I no longer had to worry about the water supply being cut off. As long as the mountain retained its ability to store water, there should be no shortage of fresh water.

The cave was extremely slippery. On my way out, I accidentally lost my footing and nearly fell straight out of the entrance, which gave me quite a scare. By the time I carefully crawled out and climbed down from the two-meter-high opening, another day had passed and the sun was sinking in the west.

I followed the stream toward the treehouse. Now that I had a general understanding of the situation, the heavy stone in my heart finally settled. The water no longer seemed like a concern, and the stream before me had once again risen to a depth just over the top of my foot.

Tomorrow, I would use up some of the water in the bucket and then fill it to the brim. If the clear weather continued for several more days, I feared that the water inside the mountain might eventually be exhausted.

There were many animals along the stream in the evening. As I walked, small creatures were repeatedly startled into flight, along with birds, lizards, crabs, and all manner of other wildlife. I even saw a tortoise.

It was far faster than I had imagined. Who ever said tortoises were slower than rabbits? I had originally intended to catch it, but the moment it saw me, it charged into the shrubs at the edge of the forest. Forget chasing it—even if I had drawn my pistol, I might not have been able to hit it.

In the distance, two wild boars were drinking from the opposite bank. Naturally, I had no intention of provoking them for no reason. If there had only been two, I was not especially frightened anyway, especially since they were at least a hundred meters away.

The stream would hardly have been an obstacle to them. More importantly, wild boars were unpredictable and irritable; there was no way to know when they might attack. I had been assaulted by them once, yet the three I encountered by the sea the second time had shown no interest in me at all.

This time, I simply kept well away from them, sat down on the ground, and waited for them to leave.

I had no idea whether they had noticed me. When I sat down, both boars raised their heads and glanced in my direction, but they made no further movement and lowered their heads to drink again.

At that moment, several small animals emerged from the woods near the boars. They were too far away for me to see clearly. They began drinking beside the boars as though they owned the place.

At first, nothing happened. But before long, the boars noticed them. One of them gave an annoyed grunt, lowered its head, and used its tusks to shove away the little animals beside it.

Because the boars blocked my view, I could not tell whether the small creatures had actually left. Before I could see clearly, however, both boars began bellowing furiously. The little animals fled, and the boars gave chase.

But they ran in my direction, nearly making me leap to my feet. The gun in my hand rose instinctively.

Now that was being caught in the crossfire! I had only been sitting there watching the spectacle, yet somehow I was still getting dragged into it.

Fortunately, while I was grumbling, I saw the boars suddenly change direction. The fleeing animals must have altered their escape route to avoid being caught. The boars followed them straight into the woods.

As soon as I heard their cries receding into the distance, I stood up. Such a heaven-sent opportunity could not be wasted. If I stayed and happened to encounter the enraged boars on their return, I would practically be begging to die.

I hurried past that stretch of ground and finally reached the vicinity of the treehouse, letting out a long breath of relief. Then I suddenly remembered the sounds from the previous night.

Could those wild boars and the little animals have been responsible?

It seemed highly likely. Judging from the behavior of those little creatures just now, they had shown not the slightest concern for the boars’ presence. Their boldness was almost outrageous. The howls I had heard last night were probably the boars’ angry cries.

But whether that was truly the case, there was no way to find out now.

I should also start working on traps soon. If those animals had caused the disturbance, then it was not such a bad thing. At least they were not more terrifying carnivores.

What worried me most was the possibility of large predators living here. They might lie in ambush, disguise themselves, and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Compared with them, the boars were far less frightening.

I finally returned to the treehouse before dark. Little Black had already been standing at the entrance to the yard, looking around. It must have been waiting for me.

I patted it, picked up the vine ball, and played with it for a while. Then I went upstairs to check on little Lightning.

It was still asleep.

Did all babies love sleeping so much?

Another day had passed. After dinner, I lay down on the bedding and began thinking about how to construct the traps. Perhaps tomorrow I should start by making a few experimental ones.