I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 877 – Donkey Saddle and Stirrup (Three-in-One)
Han Cheng had never imagined the full effect of sending the Eldest Senior Brother and the others north to bring back the remaining people from these tribes.
He had not thought this far ahead; he merely wanted to bring these people back to serve as slaves in the tribe so it could grow stronger.
He had not anticipated that these new slaves would develop a sense of loyalty and recognition toward the tribe and even consider him kind-hearted.
Ah, this was the benefit of having a powerful tribe. Even being a slave in such a tribe was better than the life they had before.
Ah… being too excellent, having a tribe too powerful—such circumstances lead to unexpected rewards from even unintended actions. It was both wonderful and frustrating.
In the office, Han Cheng, now finished drawing the design for the saddle, had just received news reported by Caogen, a former slave, compiled with input from the older slaves. His smile never faded, as if a particularly satisfying windfall had hit him.
The smug satisfaction on his face was obvious—he looked almost annoyingly self-satisfied.
Fortunately, Caogen had no idea what was going through Han Cheng’s mind; otherwise, the imposing image he had of the Divine Child might have collapsed instantly.
“Good work. Ask around—see who knows the route. Find as many people as possible who can remember the way and have them join the team heading north. Preferably, find at least one person from each tribe to ensure none are missed…”
After basking in the glory of being praised, Han Cheng issued Caogen a new task: to find people familiar with the route to accompany the Eldest Senior Brother north.
Receiving affirmation from the Divine Child, Caogen was thrilled. The one who had once drooled over the Green Sparrow Tribe’s deer and been captured by the evil Flying Snake Tribe had now truly become a member of the Green Sparrow Tribe.
With a goofy smile, he headed out energetically to the slave yard to carry out Han Cheng’s instructions.
Han Cheng, meanwhile, stretched lazily, recalled what Caogen had reported, and chuckled before heading out to look for Lame.
By this time, the sun had already set—an hour when birds return to the forest.
Not only the birds, but also the deer herds and the large packs of dogs that followed them returned to the tribe.
Nearby, the bleating of sheep could be heard, occasionally punctuated by the crack of a whip and shouts from the shepherds.
These were the former sheep tribe members driving the well-fed flock back.
In the chicken coops and duck pens, some female tribe members fed the poultry, mixing chopped grass, rapeseed, and slightly dry grains to ensure they had dinner before bed.
Feeding the chickens properly was essential—not only to fatten them but also to increase egg production.
Now, the tribe’s chickens had been domesticated for over ten years. They had lost most of their wild instincts and had increasingly resembled later domesticated chickens.
In the future, Han Cheng planned to try letting a small portion roam freely in the yard to see if their wild instincts returned. If not, he would gradually let more chickens roam.
Over time, this would save feed and reduce crop pests, such as grasshoppers.
Of course, the vegetable garden surrounding the yard would need fencing first, otherwise these omnivores might peck at the crops.
After standing for a while, Lame arrived, stumbling slightly as he approached.
He already knew that the Divine Child intended to create two new tools to mount on donkeys, making them easier to ride—Mao had recently informed him.
As a master craftsman on par with Hei Wa in skill, Lame naturally took this responsibility seriously.
Having received the news, he had lingered nearby, watching for any activity and waiting for Han Cheng to finish the blueprints.
Now that Han Cheng had emerged with the designs, Lame hurried over, eager to start.
Han Cheng smiled upon seeing Lame approach.
Over the past ten years, much had changed, but some things remained constant—like Lame’s never-failing delivery.
Ten years ago, Lame had needed to eat fish guts filled with sand to survive, barely getting enough. Now, though older and his hands slightly deformed, his persistence and determination remained.
Han Cheng had initially intended to give the blueprints to Lame the next day, knowing that if he received them now, he would stay up late studying them.
However, the northern expedition needed to begin promptly, so Han Cheng decided to give Lame the blueprints immediately.
Lame didn’t mind the extra effort. He took the papers eagerly and began examining them.
Having seen many blueprints over the years, Lame was already accustomed to interpreting diagrams representing tools.
The two blueprints depicted a saddle and stirrups—or, more accurately, a donkey saddle and donkey stirrups.
Compared to the complex saddle, the stirrups were far simpler.
Just by looking at the diagrams, Lame immediately understood how to make these items and realized several possible methods using different materials: weaving rattan, wood and leather, bone or stone tools, even bronze for the stirrups.
However, the saddle, slightly arched with upward-curving ends, would be more challenging to construct.
Lame studied the diagrams carefully until dusk. Han Cheng called to him, urging him to bring the work inside and light a lamp.
As they entered and lit the room, someone called them to dinner.
Lame reluctantly set down the blueprints. Han Cheng, a staunch believer in “meals above all,” insisted he eat first.
Lame hurried to the dining hall, eating quickly, his mind still on the donkey saddle. Even Han Cheng, usually quick on his feet, had difficulty keeping up with his pace.
After finishing his meal, Lame wiped his mouth and returned to the room to continue studying the saddle blueprints.
Han Cheng followed, both pleased and helpless at Lame’s dedication.
“Think of this as a stool,” Han Cheng explained. “The difference is that an ordinary stool sits on the ground, while a donkey saddle must attach securely to the donkey’s back. My requirements are simple: it must stay firmly in place, cause no harm to the donkey, and provide a stable, comfortable seat for a person.”
Lame nodded vigorously, fully understanding.
“Alright, that’s enough for tonight. Finish tomorrow. Rest well—staying up all night won’t help.”
Lame, having grasped the concept of the saddle, wanted to start immediately, but Han Cheng forbade it.
Meals must be appropriately eaten; tools cannot be completed overnight.
Satisfied, Han Cheng watched Lame go to sleep. Such talent was invaluable to the tribe. Even if the northern expedition departed a few days later, Han Cheng would not risk overworking Lame.
“Dad, foot wash…”
Back in his room, Bai Xue brought a basin of warm water. Little Pea eagerly grabbed it and placed it for Han Cheng, calling for him to wash his feet.
Little Xing’er, awake beside him, imitated her brother, clumsily calling, “Dad, wash feet.”
Han Cheng laughed, rubbing their head, removed their shoes and socks, and placed their feet in the water.
Little Pea carefully washed his feet, while Little Xing’er, less steady, splashed with her small hands.
The soft touch of his children’s hands was warm and comforting—this was the joy of parenthood, fleeting yet unforgettable.
Though not his first time, this was the most memorable foot-washing experience of Han Cheng’s life.
Meanwhile, 180 li away in the Bronze Mountain residential area, several bonfires lit the surroundings, and the aroma of food wafted through the air.
Everyone was joyful, having just received news from the main tribe: Han Cheng and his group had returned safely and had found suitable southern settlements, rice, and sweet sorghum.
Hearing this, hearts that had been tense relaxed, replaced by sheer joy.
Back at the Green Sparrow main tribe’s slave yard, darkness had fallen, yet many were still awake.
The news of the northern expedition stirred excitement. Even after a day of labor, many could not sleep, especially those selected to join the northern group and bring the remaining tribe members back to the Green Sparrow Tribe.
They imagined the scene when their original tribes learned of the good news—surely everyone would leap with joy.
Grass Tribe’s leader, having joined the northern expedition, felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. Though she wasn’t sure of the route back, she confidently volunteered, hoping this rare chance would allow her to leave the rich, powerful, and intimidating Green Sparrow Tribe.
As she considered the journey ahead, she finally fell asleep.
The next day began with the sound of hammering.
After experiencing how useful the meteorite hammer was, Second Senior Brother could not contain his excitement. Early in the morning, he and Hei Wa rekindled the forge, heated the meteorite, and began hammering repeatedly.
The noise ensured no one could sleep in, prompting Han Cheng to rise promptly.
After washing, he took Little Pea out for a run along the stone-paved roads, returning sweaty but invigorated.
He then went to the smithy, where Second Senior Brother and Hei Wa were crafting tools—a hatchet and a chisel.
With high-quality materials, priority was given to the tools carpenters and stonemasons need. Proper tools allowed the tribe to create better items.
The meteorite was still rough, far from being a finished hatchet or chisel, requiring repeated heating and hammering.
Han Cheng then went to the carpenter’s workshop, where Bo and several other carpenters were already busy.
Bo had been working long before the smiths fired up the forge. Three sets of donkey stirrups were ready: one woven from rattan, one from wood, and one a hybrid of bone and rattan.
Bronze stirrups required Hei Wa to make a mold.
Han Cheng tested each stirrup; Lame’s craftsmanship ensured comfort and stability.
Lame measured and marked, then assigned apprentices to cut or shave excess material. His demeanor exuded the gravitas of a master craftsman.
Han Cheng observed briefly, then left, allowing Lame to continue.
The advantage of cultivating talent was clear: instructions could be delegated without personal involvement. Otherwise, managing every detail risked exhaustion—Han Cheng did not want to follow in the tragic footsteps of Zhuge Liang, who overexerted himself after Ma Su failed at Jiexiu.