There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

"Have many people died in your area before?" I asked.

The visitor from the tribe said, "Many people die from drinking water, hunting, poisonous insects, and illness."

"Does your tribe boil water?" Drinking water that hasn't been boiled is dangerous no matter how much you filter it. But once water is boiled at 100 degrees Celsius, most of the harmful substances in it will disappear, except for heavy metals.

"The tribe can boil water. But hunting is out of the question. Migrating is also out of the question."

The person drew marks on the ground with a twig. Many circles likely represent a settled, communal lifestyle. Animals were drawn, representing hunting in the wild. Many people lined up in a row represent tribal migration.

I guess this person was expressing the idea that they only had access to boiled water every day when the tribe reached a settlement, and during outdoor activities and tribal migrations, they could only rely on this simple well filtration method to find reliable water sources.

It seems that the living environment of this Brown Pond tribe is still in the early stage of nomadic peoples. After settling in one place for a period of time, they would migrate due to the depletion of natural resources and move to another piece of land to live.

This situation arose because the development of agriculture was insufficient, resulting in an inverse relationship between food availability and population growth. The only way to alleviate the conflict was through migration, differentiation, and even death.

"I want more, here's some fire for you."

After taking a couple of sips of water, perhaps reminded by my question, the tribal visitors offered to set up a fire for me.

"Okay, then I'll trouble you. I'll treat you to lunch."

Since the colonist system suggests that it's best to maintain a friendly relationship with visitors, I don't mind playing a wilderness survival game with this tribe's guests. I can learn some skills in the process, so why not?

The tribal visitors noticed that all the timber from the ranch had been collected outside the house, so they walked back from the riverbank to the vicinity of the ranch gate.

The tribal visitor, acting as the keeper of the fire, was indeed an expert in building the bonfire. He first drew an inner circle on the ground and then gathered many dry stones to form the boundary, firmly enclosing a ring. This served as the boundary of the bonfire, preventing the fire from spreading uncontrollably and igniting the surrounding trees, thus causing a wildfire.

Then, the man piled some thinner pieces of firewood into a cone-shaped tent, leaving enough space underneath to hold kindling. I noticed that he didn't pile them too tightly; there were gaps between the sticks to prevent them from collapsing and extinguishing the fire when it first started to burn. In the middle of the firewood pile was a small tinderbox made of dried, dehydrated grass and tree twigs, which served as the initial ignition point.

Finally, the tribal visitor took out a small stone from the animal skin bag. The stone was hard and shiny, quite heavy in the hand, and its broken edge was smooth and translucent.

"Is this a flint and steel?" I asked curiously.

"This stone is for starting fires. It's a special stone used exclusively in our tribe." The tribal visitor carefully showed me the stone, as if it were a rare treasure.

It really is a flint. Normal flints are all synthetic, made by mixing metals in a certain proportion, including iron, magnesium, zinc, rare earth elements, etc. Flint made from these metals has a high spark temperature, making it very easy to ignite, and can directly ignite dry grass.

Natural flints are made of minerals rich in metals, but because natural minerals have low metal content, the sparks produced by striking them are often not hot enough...

"Can this really work?" I was a little skeptical. Natural flint is too cold to ignite this kindling, right?

The tribal visitor nodded, took a small pinch of crumbs from his magical beast skin bag, sprinkled them carefully on the bonfire, and said to me, "That's it."

What is this?

"The fuzz of a mushroom, like this. For you."

The man then took out a dried, dehydrated mushroom from his bag and showed it to me.

The mushroom looked like a horseshoe, with fine hairs growing on the back of its horseshoe-shaped shell.

I recognized it as a dried fungus found on a tree trunk, called a horseshoe mushroom. Once the outer shell is removed, the inner fungal fuzz inside is an excellent ignition source; a single spark can ignite it. Horseshoe mushrooms are not only the best ignition source but also the best way to preserve a spark.

I was still a little touched. Although I could get free food and drinks in town, this visitor immediately started arranging water and firewood for me, giving me whatever I needed, and even this kind of tinder. These mushrooms aren't everywhere; collecting enough would probably take several days wandering in the mountains.

Could it be...

The guests who came were exemplary figures from the "Touching Tribe"!

Chapter 78 A fire at the foot of the mountain, the town's police station

The short tribal visitor, with a joyful smile on his face painted black, asked me.

"You really agree to place the spark here?"

My ranch is so big, it's more than enough to house a source of fire. Even if we moved all the fire sources from their tribe here, we should still be able to fit them all.

"Of course, I'm extremely grateful that you're willing to help me build a fire, why would I object?"

After repeatedly confirming that everything was correct, the tribal visitors finally arrived at the center of the campfire. They dug a shallow tunnel in the middle of the campfire, covered it with stones, then covered it with soil, and refilled it to resemble the shape of flat ground, leaving only a trace of a ventilation hole that was barely visible to the naked eye.

This is a clever way to build a campfire. By pre-installing ventilation pipes, it ensures an oxygen supply to the bottom of the fire. As we all know, air rises when heated, and the center of the fire is often the hottest spot. Rapidly rising air creates an oxygen-depleted zone, affecting combustion efficiency.

These oxygen-deprived areas are a major cause of human and wildlife deaths in forest fires. Even burrowing creatures like moles and rabbits, which escape the heat of the flames by hiding underground, will die from suffocation due to lack of oxygen.

The inclusion of these tunnels ensures sufficient oxygen levels at the center of the campfire. As hot air rises from the center, it carries cooler air through the tunnels to the heart of the flames, creating a efficient circulation path and guaranteeing efficient combustion.

However, the fire-lighting process I had envisioned did not begin immediately. After completing these preliminary procedures, the tribal visitors put down the natural flint and steel in their hands, retreated to the center of the area, and carefully took a piece of embers, arranging them in a hexagonal shape on the ground.

What are you doing?

I couldn't help but ask, "Does the step of igniting a fire not involve lighting a bonfire, but setting a fuse? That's too strange! Is this some kind of hardcore arms tribe?"

The tribal visitor was carefully setting up the hexagon, answering me as he said, "I'm setting up a prayer point for prayer."

I never imagined that starting a fire in a tribe would be so complicated. It requires not only material preparation but also a simultaneous effort to address the psychological and emotional aspects. It's about managing both material needs and ideological issues...

Yes, that's very Soviet! .jpg

The tribal visitors were dressed in animal skins and had many small braids tied in their hair, looking somewhat like Native Americans. However, in contrast, the tribe's technology showed many signs of being in a technologically advanced era, unlike those backward places that had no communication with the outside world.

Therefore, the scene I had imagined—dancing strangely and shouting and cheering around the fire—did not occur. The person simply lay quietly in the center of the hexagon, silently praying towards the direction of the sun.

This shows that the Brown Pool tribe does not regard lighting fires for prayer as a sacrificial ritual, but rather as a religious custom that is passed down, just like the Christians of the past praying to God before meals.

After the man finished praying, stood up from the ground, and continued to build a large bonfire around the main fire, I continued to ask him questions.

"What does that symbol on the ground mean? Is it a symbol of a deity?"

The tribal visitor glanced at me and said, "Do you still believe in gods, those false idols?"

My friend, you're mistaken. In this world, not only do people worship fake idols, but some people also worship virtual idols and even marry two-dimensional characters...

"Sorry for being presumptuous. So, what is this?"

"This is our tribe's symbol, a six-sided flower. It's a symbol left by our tribe's earliest ancestors."

Upon closer inspection, I realized that this hexagonal shape wasn't the pointed shape of an ice crystal or snowflake. Instead, at the protrusion of the hexagon, there was a dot drawn with charcoal powder, forming a pattern of a flower with sharp edges and corners.

"That must be the tribe's totem, right?"

"You can understand it that way."

The tribal visitors quickly took medium-length branches and used them to build up the edges of the campfire, ensuring it could burn for a long time.

"Let's begin."

The tribal guest casually placed a ball of tinder on the ground, mixed with powdered horse hoof fungus. He then gently tapped a natural flint against the ground, and two tiny sparks shot out from the point of impact, seemingly possessing a spirit, and flew into the tinder.

This tinder, made from a mixture of dried plant leaves, wood chips, and mushroom powder, was highly flammable. The moment a spark touched the tinder, it ignited the mushroom powder, producing pale blue flames that flickered like will-o'-the-wisps among the withered leaves.

These inconspicuous fires quickly generated enough heat to scorch some of the dead leaves, and then the fire spread rapidly toward the center.

The tribal visitor placed the tinder in the shade and observed it, confirming that the flame inside was spreading steadily, before gently blowing a breath into it.

The moment oxygen entered, the hidden flame in the tinder seemed startled and began to ripple and waver. However, the next second, it immediately began to grow wildly, like weeds that had absorbed enough nutrients.

The ball of tinder in the tribal visitor's hand quickly turned into a small, burning fireball, which the person gripped carefully to avoid getting burned.

Without hesitation, the man rushed into the fire, placed tinder into the gap in the fire pit, quickly covered the gap with the prepared dry wood chips, and then bent down to blow air into it.

The introduction of air quickly aided combustion. The tinderbox, composed of relatively durable branches and firewood, showed little change as the tinder heated it. Although a few spots ignited successfully, the fire failed to spread throughout the entire area. The likely outcome was that the flammable tinder would burn out before the heat was sufficient to completely ignite the tinderbox.

If the tinderbox couldn't be lit, there wouldn't be enough heat to ignite the huge outer bonfire. But the tribal visitors remained calm and unhurried, taking out a handful of charcoal powder from a magical little animal skin pouch and sprinkling it into the tinderbox.

As soon as these flammable materials were added, a bright fireball quickly formed between the tinder and the kindling, and the heat of the flames even spread to my face.

With this help, the bonfire was completely ignited and began to burn steadily and continuously, releasing the heat it contained.

The tinder quickly burned out, turning into a pile of ash with scattered sparks. The air, stirred by the heat, was then dispersed into a plume of black smoke that rose straight into the sky, revealing the ventilation holes beneath the ash!

As the air circulates, cold air continuously flows in from the outside through the ventilation holes, becoming a powerful catalyst that promotes the vigorous growth of the flames in the center of the campfire.

Soon, under the skillful arrangement of the tribal visitors, the layers of firewood were burned in an orderly manner, turning a solid pile of firewood into a towering bonfire!

During the day, the light of the flames was not easily seen. Only the scorching heat felt real, almost tangible, as it burned our skin. I also observed that the ashes from the burning flames shot upwards, forming a thick plume of black smoke that stood straight up in the clear sky, probably visible from a great distance.

"The firewood is a bit damp and will produce smoke."

The guests from the tribe calmly and methodically analyzed the situation, seemingly considering how to further improve it. But then something suddenly occurred to me…

"Won't we get arrested for setting such a big fire?"

Chapter 79 The sheriff wanted to hit someone after hearing that.

"Name?"

"...Marcus."

"Profession?"

"He used to be a world-renowned engineer, but now he's a farmer on a ranch. All things considered, he should be considered a member of the working class and peasantry."

"age?"

"220 years old is just two hundred years of experience in the virtual world. That's a biological age of 27."

"Place of residence?"

"...The Mineral Town Ranch in town. No, Sheriff Harris, don't you know where I live? Isn't it you who dragged me from the ranch?"

Before Sheriff Harris could speak, Boss Dart jumped out from who-knows-where, pointing at me with a look of utter disappointment.

"You still know it's your ranch! Who would set such a big fire on their own ranch first thing in the morning, just for fun?"

I explained helplessly, "I've said it so many times, I really didn't start the fire. And it's not a campfire I could build. A guest came to my ranch, and he insisted on building a fire for me first thing in the morning, before I'd even brushed my teeth or washed my face, and I couldn't stop him..."

With an air of righteous indignation, Boss Dart questioned, "Do you think the police will believe your nonsense? Where did this guest come from in town? Bring him here so we can see him. We advise you to confess quickly and stop spouting this nonsense."

"But I'm just telling the truth..."

Just as Mr. Dart was about to speak again, Sheriff Harris stopped him.

“Dart, I understand how you feel, but I’m still investigating Marcus’s dangerous arson. There’s no need to be so tense. Why don’t you sit down for a bit?”

Sheriff Harris's cap was almost completely covering his face, used to hide his helpless expression.

Everyone could see that although Mr. Dart seemed to be yelling at me, he was actually trying to help me out of a tight spot.

Normally, police interrogations involve a good cop and a bad cop. But Mr. Dart was probably afraid that Harris would start by playing the bad cop and scare me, so he rushed over as soon as he heard the news and took the lead in playing the role of the bad cop, slamming the table and glaring.

See, Sheriff Harris had no choice but to play the bad cop, acting as a peacemaker to calm both sides down and begin further questioning.

Yes, that's me, the one being taken away by the town police.