The party emerged from the shop, gazing at the crimson-tinged sunset as they directed their steps toward the Nauulaat River. The sun was dipping below the horizon, gradually darkening the sky, and a gentle breeze stirred, causing the river's waters to ripple and reflect the red hues of the dusk. From the surrounding woods, the patter of small animals' feet and the rustle of leaves filled the serene air. As night approached, a cool wind swept the forest's edges, and the path to the riverbank brushed a wintry chill across everyone's shoulders and cheeks.
As they drew nearer to the river, the vast expanse of the Nauulaat River unfolded before Gravel's eyes in an utterly overwhelming sight. In its widest stretches, the river spanned dozens of tita, with swift currents that appeared deep and formidable. The waters flowed like an endless, colossal ribbon, encircling the forest. The banks were overgrown with lush grass, and scattered piles of stones lay naturally heaped here and there. Deer drank from the river or idly grazed on the foliage, while a fox cautiously surveyed the forest's fringe. Various birds flitted among the branches, adding to the woodland's ambiance, their wingbeats and occasional calls echoing softly. All these living beings harmonized in a wondrous riverside tableau.
Closer to the riverbank, the figures of Dawi and Muwa who had already settled in came into view. They wore thick deerskin garments, the heavy hides accentuating their sturdy builds against the chill winter air. Bonfires lined the riverbank like a band of light from afar. The flames reflected on the water, casting a subtle golden glow, and around them, fishers gripped harpoons, their sharp eyes fixed on the depths below. Smoke rose between the fires, infusing the air with the scent of burning wood. The scene was one of quiet intensity, with a palpable tension flowing along the broad river.
In the distance, on one side of the riverbank, a small fish farm encircled by stacked stones stood firm. There, tiny fish destined as bait were being raised, the water lapping against the enclosure's edges. Occasionally, fish leaped to the surface, splashing small sprays that broke the surrounding stillness with gentle ripples.
Bouma led the group, proceeding at a leisurely pace. As they walked, Bouma began to speak of the traditional harpoon hunting of the Damu.
"In ancient times, our ancestors sustained their lives by catching fish in this river. The harpoon has been our companion since then. Especially the Kannook Salmon—it was vital sustenance for us. They're so enormous that tales of Dawi or Muwa catching one larger than themselves are common boasts among fishers. Some claim a Kannook Salmon was bigger than three Dawi combined, or strong enough to reverse the river's flow."
Nia asked with eyes full of curiosity.
"Really? Is there truly such a huge fish? Seeing one would be amazing!"
Bouma chuckled heartily in response.
"Haha, of course. But Kannook Salmon are out of season yet, so today, let's aim for Clarias catfish."
At that moment, a canoe called a Tomol, crafted from wooden planks, caught the eye on the river's surface. Dawi stood aboard, harpoons in hand, targeting fish. Bouma pointed to it and began explaining.
"That's a Tomol, a boat made by Dawi and Muwa since time immemorial. Primarily from driftwood, though the exact origins are lost to history, they've long used them for fishing or trading journeys."
Gravel showed interest and inquired.
"How is it made?"
Bouma smiled and nodded slowly.
"Oh? I've heard of your keen interest in Damu artifacts—allow me to explain. Crafting a Tomol demands patience and skill. A hefty log serves as the base, the hull framed from carefully split driftwood planks. These are smoothed with rough stones, and seams sealed with Yoop, a bitumen mixture, to prevent leaks."
Dallen added from the side.
"And the upper planks are left open at the ends to avoid snags when drawing the harpoon, with baffles at both tips for smooth navigation in the current."
Bouma nodded and continued.
"The Tomol handles well on the river—swift and easy to paddle. It's invaluable for long distances. Chasing fish hither and yon aboard one is the essence of Dawi life."
Gravel watched with fascination and remarked.
"It's more intricate than it appears—simple yet detailed in craftsmanship."
Bouma smiled with satisfaction.
"Indeed. You'd truly appreciate it by riding one yourself."
The party arrived at a spot along the riverbank. Bouma took harpoon in hand and strode toward the water's edge. Dallen and Mau followed, inspecting their nets. Iris and Gravel looked around with wonder.
Nia, unable to contain the excitement, ventured too close to the water and nearly slipped in. Bouma swiftly grabbed an arm and pulled back, saying.
"Quiet now, or the fish will flee."
"Got it..."
Nia smiled sheepishly and retreated.
Upon reaching the bank, the air grew colder, the sound of flowing water sharpening. Beneath the setting sun's light, the river gleamed with golden sparkles. The shore was blanketed in dense reeds and swaying pampas grass, interspersed with moss-covered, smooth, rounded stones. The slightly muddy ground, dampened by the water, exuded a moist earthy aroma. In the distance, birds shook their feathers and took flight, while near the river, low frog croaks resounded. Suddenly, a fish leaped from the depths, scattering glistening droplets. Small waves rippled outward, lapping at the surface.
Bouma took the lead. His seasoned eyes scanned the water for movement. In hand was a long pole tipped with a sharp, barbed blade—a harpoon specially forged for large prey like Clarias catfish. A sturdy rope was attached, and Bouma meticulously checked for wear or weak spots.
Dallen and Mau busied themselves preparing their nets. Woven from tough fibers, the mesh was designed to withstand the thrashing of resistant fish. They spread it on the ground, examining for tears or loose knots, then folded it carefully for quick deployment.
Iris and Gravel observed the tools' familiar yet unique designs with intrigue. The sharp-eyed Iris spotted a sizable pouch at Bouma's waist.
"What's in that pouch?"
Iris pointed and asked. Sometimes taking the initiative to inquire on Gravel's behalf felt like a duty, and this seemed a fine opportunity.
Bouma smiled and opened it to show. Inside was finely ground bait.
"This is a special blend of dried chicken liver and vine grass powder."
He explained.
"It's for luring catfish—sprinkle it in, and it'll draw them from the riverbed depths."
With that, Bouma tossed a handful into the river. The mixture dispersed swiftly, forming a hazy cloud underwater. Eyes fixed on the murk, hoping the scent would summon the catfish.
Meanwhile, Nia bounced with uncontainable excitement. In Nia's grasp was a harpoon similar to Bouma's but slimmer and shorter. The handle bore the distinct grain of Wivre Nest wood, its surface etched with intricate patterns depicting fish and rivers.
The blade gleamed silver, honed to razor sharpness, its tip curving elegantly for an graceful impression. More akin to a finely wrought artwork than a mere fishing tool, it seemed worthy of display in a crystal case. The grip was wrapped in soft leather for a comfortable, secure hold.
"Can't wait to catch one!"
Nia exclaimed with sparkling eyes.
Bouma laughed and said.
"Patience, Nia. Hunting demands focus and seizing the fish's motion. Wait for the right moment."
Nia nodded enthusiastically, striving to suppress the bubbling enthusiasm. Nia approached the water's edge, peering into the depths for signs of catfish.
Suddenly, Iris pointed to a spot on the river.
"Look there! The water's stirring."
All eyes turned to where Iris indicated. Indeed, a subtle disturbance rippled the surface, as if something large lurked just beneath.
Bouma's expression grew serious.
"That might be our quarry. Everyone, ready yourselves. Quietly, slowly—no startling it."
The party held their breath. Senses heightened for the hunt, they finalized positions.
Bouma stood at the edge, harpoon poised. Ignoring the insects buzzing around, focus locked solely on the river. The earlier bait was working; a massive catfish's shadow approached slowly, deliberately.
The catfish was immense—larger than a Dawi's outstretched arms could encompass. It featured a broad, flat head and long trailing barbels. The body was elongated and supple, its sleek skin allowing swift glides through the water. The wide tail cleaved the current, generating powerful thrusts that churned the flow.
As it neared, Bouma saw the enormous mouth opening and closing, sampling the bait. Muscles tensed, awaiting the perfect instant.
Abruptly, the catfish flicked its tail—a sign of turning. Bouma seized the moment. With swift, forceful motion, the harpoon plunged into the water, aimed at the torso.
It struck true, piercing the flank. The fish reacted instantly, writhing fiercely to dislodge it, water spraying everywhere. The power astonished even Bouma.
"Whoa! Lucky day—this one's a monster!"
Bouma gripped the rope tightly and shouted. As the catfish tried dragging him in, Bouma dug heels into the muddy bank and leaned back, countering with body weight.
"We'll help, Bouma!"
Dallen and Mau rushed over, seizing the rope. Their combined strength began hauling the catfish toward the shore.
A short distance from Bouma's position, near the bank, Nia stood motionless, gaze fixed underwater. Though Bouma, Dallen, and Mau bustled to land the giant nearby, no sound reached Nia's ears. All attention riveted on the depths, unmoved even by a faint breeze brushing the eyes.
Detecting faint movement below, Nia's eyes gleamed. After staring intently, Nia finally spotted a smaller catfish. Breathing deeply, Nia raised the harpoon with care, adjusting grip strength and steadying breath. At last, exhaling the held air, Nia thrust the harpoon with full force. It sliced the air and pinned the catfish precisely to the riverbed.
"Caught one too!"
Nia cried out in triumphant laughter.
Bouma glanced over and smiled.
"Well done, Nia! Now lend a hand with this big brute!"
*****
After the hunt, the party kindled a small bonfire on the riverbank and gathered around, cleaning the captured catfish. Flames crackled, casting warm light, and the aroma of grilling fish wafted through the air. Gravel stared into the fire and said.
"To land such a massive catfish with a single harpoon..."
Iris agreed and added.
"Yes, witnessing harpoon-throwing hunting like this is a first."
Dallen approached Bouma quietly and spoke.
"Actually, Elder Benarr mentioned wanting a private word with you. And requested a large batch of harpoons— as many as possible, with generous payment."
Bouma's face grew grave.
"What's the matter, I wonder... And why the need for so many harpoons?"
Dallen shook his head in reply.
"I don't know the details. Oh, and nearly forgot: equal numbers for Dawi use and smaller ones for Muwa."
Bouma pondered silently for a moment. Benarr's unexpected order stirred curiosity.
The party sat around the bonfire, tearing into the golden-grilled catfish by hand while conversing. Mau had prepared ground cardamom, pepper, and dill in advance, sprinkling it evenly over the fish; smoke rose, spreading a savory fragrance. The skin crisped to a crunchy texture, the flesh moist and tender.
Nia took a bite, eyes sparkling in delight.
"Didn't expect it to taste this good!"
Bouma remained lost in thought but soon smiled, joining the group's laughter. The riverbank bonfire enveloped them in warm light, illuminating the deepening night.