Starting from Robinson Crusoe-Chapter 71 - 26: The Cave

Chapter 71: Chapter 26: The Cave
Spending childhood in the countryside, though lacking the variety of entertainment options like city children’s youth centers, arcades, and internet cafes, Chen Zhou learned other unique skills—killing chickens, slaughtering geese, skinning them, and bleeding them...
Feeling that this bird was quite similar to a big goose, he directly boiled hot water, preparing to scald and pluck the feathers later.
Actually, giving the goose some alcohol before slaughter makes the bleeding faster and plucking easier.
Unfortunately, Lai Fu bit too fast, and before Chen Zhou could get close, the bird was already dead, and not completely bled.
But what’s done is done, there’s no way to fix it now.
For the convenience of the upcoming cooking, Chen Zhou removed the hindering tent door, laid down some wooden boards, brought over a pile of dry firewood ahead of time, along with salt and wine, waiting quietly by the iron kettle for the water to boil.
Smelling the bird’s blood, the little gray cat tiptoed to the big bird’s carcass, cautiously and curiously reaching out a paw to touch the wings.
Chen Zhou casually broke off a feather and tossed it to the cat, watching it grab the feather and run playfully through the woods, thinking that it would be wise to save these feathers.
They can be used to make quills, crossbow arrows, or to repair old crossbow arrow fletching.
Apart from regular feather products, Chen Zhou also thought of the chicken feather dusters commonly used in the village.
His third grandma was very skillful, making soy paste, pickling vegetables, making small brooms, crafting chicken feather dusters, twisting hemp ropes; she knew many crafts and did them beautifully.
When Chen Zhou was young, he often went to his third grandma’s house for meals, helping out a lot and became somewhat familiar with the production processes.
Now having goose feathers, cloth strips, glue, and thin wooden sticks, he wanted to try making a goose feather duster since he had plenty of time.
The dry firewood burned vigorously, and a kettle of water quickly came to a boil.
Lacking a basin big enough, Chen Zhou stuffed the bird into a small wooden bucket and then poured boiling water over it.
Steam rose as the peculiar smell unique to bird and goose meat wafted from the carcass, mixed with the scent of fat and a hint of earthy and bloody aroma.
Swoosh~
Chen Zhou’s hands turned red from the steaming water, and he quickly pressed down on the bird’s body, submerging it in the boiling water to expand the pores.
Blowing the steam away and pouring on some more boiling water, Chen Zhou started plucking the feathers.
Plucking is all about speed and precision, being too slow means getting scalded, and inefficiency makes it difficult to pluck out.
Chen Zhou’s technique wasn’t very swift, but he grasped the trick early on; occasional mistakes didn’t affect the overall progress.
Actually, if wanting it to be easier, the bird could also be skinned.
However, skinning would lose the bird skin rich in fat and not provide intact feathers, so Chen Zhou preferred to spend extra effort.
Putting the feathers separately into a small wooden box, he began to butcher the bird.
The entire neck and bird’s head were chopped off directly, then Chen Zhou removed the two wings, intending to roast them tomorrow, and the butt was given as a reward to Lai Fu, while the remaining parts were cut into large pieces thrown into the pot, blanched, sprinkled with some salt and wine, and boiled casually.
Cooking without seasonings is just this simple and unadorned.
The large iron kettle wasn’t a pressure cooker, no matter how strong the firewood burnt, the bird meat still needed a long stew.
During the leisure time waiting for dinner to be done, Chen Zhou sorted through the feathers in the wooden box.
Comparing them with the arrow fletches, he separated the feathers of similar size and shape for that use, small down feathers suitable for bedding filling were set aside, and the long feathers for making goose feather dusters were also placed in a pile.
One bird didn’t yield much material, and aside from the poorly-shaped feathers, the remaining long feathers might not be enough to make a large duster.
Chen Zhou planned to collect more.
The flock wasn’t gone forever; there would be opportunities to kill a few more in the future, crafting a duster afterward could also lead to making a goose feather cushion, so now he just needed to store the feathers properly.
After sorting the feathers, he lifted the lid to check the color of the bird meat, feeling it wasn’t stewed soft enough, so Chen Zhou went to the riverside to wash the wooden blocks.
That spindle-shaped tree he had named "Pineapple Tree".
Normally not interested in science videos about flora and fauna, he now realized how terrifying ignorance could be.
To give himself a clear memory point, Chen Zhou had to whimsically name them to prevent confusion.
The chunks of Pineapple Tree wood were wedge-shaped, yellowish in color, with axe marks left on the surface. Once cleaned, the dense texture was visible, heavy in hand and quite weighty.
Chen Zhou tried using the sharp end of a wood chunk to strike the board, discovering it could leave a visible dent while remaining unscathed, proving its substantial hardness.
Although he didn’t know whether the Pineapple Tree was the Brazilian Iron Tree that Robinson talked about, he decided that if no superior wood was found in the next two days, he’d make a wooden shovel from the Pineapple Tree.
The bird meat in the iron kettle had been fiercely stewed for over an hour, and the aroma, escaping through the lid, permeated the entire hillside.
Lai Fu, much like Zhu Bajie eating ginseng fruit, had already gulped down the bird butt whole, and upon smelling the fragrance, felt extremely hungry, wagging vigorously and moved closer to the fire.
If he weren’t afraid of the heat, he might have taken the iron kettle down himself.
Darkness had enveloped the slope; the firelight was bright beside the simple tent.
Moving out a wooden box to use as a dining table, sitting on a low stool, Chen Zhou laid out the cheese and bread, beginning to enjoy his dinner.
The bird meat was overall quite delicious, its texture very tough, requiring great effort to tear off even after such long stewing, and in the mouth, apart from saltiness and umami, a faint gamy taste, much better than cat meat.
Furthermore, the bird skin was rich with fat, and once cooked, the oil shimmered on the soup’s surface, brilliantly under the campfire’s light, and together with the rising steam, made one’s appetite soar.