In Medpard

Friday, June 17

The boy and the eagle Gorgo set off early the next morning.

Gorgo hopes to arrive in Westerpoten that day.

But unfortunately, he heard the boy talking to himself that the area they are traveling through is not inhabited.

Now stretching under them is South Medpard.

When the eagle heard the boy's words to himself, he replied: "In this area, the forest is the field of people."

The boy thought that the slender golden rye could sprout and grow rapidly in a summer, while the hard and solid black spruce would take many years to grow into wood and then be harvested. What a big difference between the two!

"It really takes patience to a family living in such a field to gain something!"

He sighed.

They stopped talking and flew silently to a place where the forest had been cut down, with tree stumps and cut down branches remaining in the open space.

As they flew over the clearing, the eagle heard the boy muttering, what an ugly and poor place this is!

“This is a piece of field harvested last winter.”

The Eagle said.

The boy thought that in his hometown, the harvesters drove their harvesters on a refreshing summer morning and could harvest a large field of crops in a very short time.

But in the forest here, you can only harvest in winter.

The lumberjacks walked out of the deep snowy wilderness, and the climate was very cold at this time.

Even cutting down a tree is a dull and boring job. They have to work in the wild for several weeks to cut down trees on a small piece of woodland like in front of them.

"The person who can log under forests under such harsh conditions must be hard-working and determined people."

He said.

The eagles flapped their wings several times, and then they saw a shed beside the woodland where the stumps and the cut down branches remained.

The shed has no windows, and the door is made of two wide door panels.

The roof of the shed is covered with bark and branches, but it has now cracked the gap.

The boy saw that the shed contained several large stones used to make a stove, as well as benches made of wide wooden boards.

As they flew over the shed, the eagle could not help but wonder, the boy must be muttering about who would live in such a shabby and humble place.

“The workers who cut down trees would live there.”

The Eagle said.

The boy remembered that people who were busy in the fields in his hometown would always be happy and happy when the day's work was completed, while the housewives at home would always take out delicious food from the cupboard to reward them.

However, here, after a heavy and hard day, they could only rest on the hard stools in the shed that were worse than the house where the miscellaneous items were placed in his hometown.

As for what they were eating, he really couldn't imagine.

"I wonder, are the people here holding a banquet for these workers to celebrate the harvest?"

He asked.

They flew forward for a while, and then they saw a winding and difficult road under them in the forest.

This path is narrow and tortuous, steep, sand and stones, and several places have been broken by the stream.

When they flew over the path, the eagle knew that the boy was wondering what he could transport on such a path.

“The trees that were cut down were transported to the timber yard through this path.”

The Eagle said.

The boy remembered that in his hometown, the crops harvested from the fields were shipped in a carriage drawn by two strong and tall horses. How interesting it was.

The men who drove the car sat proudly on the crops piled high in the truck. The horses ran and raised their ears. The children in the village could climb onto the tall crops and sit there, laughing and screaming, feeling happy and scared.

Here, however, the huge wood can only be dragged up or pulled down steep slopes, and the poor horses will be exhausted, and the carriage-driven must be often in danger.

"I guess it's hard to be happy and happy when transporting wood on such a road."

The boy said.

The eagle flapped his strong wings and continued to fly forward. Soon, they came to a river where wood, chips and bark were everywhere.

The eagle thought to himself, the boy must be talking about why it seems so messy here.

“This is where the cut down wood is piled up.”

The eagle told him.

The boy remembered that in his hometown, the straw of the crops was piled in front and behind the house, neatly arranged, as if they were their best decorations. However, here, the cut down things were piled up randomly on the desolate river bank, and no one was concerned about it.

"I was wondering if I would go out of the house, come to the wilderness, count his pyre, and compare it with the neighbor's pyre?"

He said.

Soon, they arrived on a Longgan River that flowed through a wide canyon.

For a time, the scenery was very different from what we had seen before, and people thought they had come to another country.

The black birch forest stretches all the way to the edge of the canyon, and the slopes are covered with thin branches of birch and poplar trees.

The canyon is very wide and there are many places, and the rivers are widened into lakes.

The two sides of the Taiwan Strait are prosperous and prosperous villages.

As they flew over the canyon, the eagle thought the boy would guess whether the fields and pastures here could feed that much of the population.

“The people living here are those who are now cutting down trees in the woodland.”

The Eagle said.

The boy was reminded of the low houses in the Sgena area and the courtyard surrounded by hedges, and he couldn't help but shout:

“Why are the farmers here living in real big estates?

It seems that working in the forest is worth it!”

The eagle originally planned to fly straight to the north, but when he flew over the big river, he knew that the boy would ask who would manage the wood after it was piled on the river bank.

The boy recalled how careful people were in his hometown to prevent a crop from being wasted, but here, large rafts of wood filled with wood floated on the river without any care.

He believed that at least half of the wood would be lost halfway through, and only half would be able to reach the destination.

There are many logs floating in the middle of the river, and they will undoubtedly reach the end smoothly.

Other wood floats along the river bank and occasionally hits the headlands extending to the river on land. Many of them will be blocked in the still water of the river and cannot move.

There is a lot of wood floating on the lake, covering almost the entire lake, and the trees seem to float there permanently.

Many wood is stuck under the bridge, while others are broken into two pieces.

Then, under the erosion of the rapids, they will be blocked by large rocks, forming huge piles of wood.

"I was wondering, how long would it take for these wood to arrive at the timber factory?"

The boy said.

The eagle continued to fly slowly towards the downstream of the Longgan River.

When flying through many places, he would stretch his wings and stop in the air, which allowed the boy to see clearly, like how the work of cutting down and transporting trees was carried out.

Soon, they arrived at the place where the workers who set up rafts worked.

The eagle noticed the boy muttering, what kind of work they were doing.

“They are workers dealing with stranded or blocked timber in the river.”

The Eagle said.

The boy remembered again how relaxed and freehand they were when people sent their crops to the mill in his hometown.

However, people here run along the river bank with long hooks, working hard to correct the direction of the wood.

They struggled to wade in the river, almost wet from head to toe.

They jumped around among the stones in the rapids, walking on the shaking pile of wood, agile and quick, as if walking on flat ground.

They are brave and decisive people.

"When I looked at all this, I couldn't help but think of the cast iron workers in the mine, who were tricked to deal with the fire, as if the fire was not at all dangerous to them."

The boy said.

"These people who put on wooden rafts seem to be playing with the water, and they are the owners of the water.

They seemed to make the water obedient, and let them do whatever they want, and dare not hurt them."

They gradually came to the estuary of the river, and the Bay of Podynia was close to them.

Gorgo no longer flew straight forward, but flew north along the coast.

They didn't fly far away and saw a saw-wood farm as big as a small town.
To be continued...