under fire

Chapter 550 Elm Bark

The temperature is getting lower and lower, this year's autumn doesn't seem to be long, and winter also seems to be an appointment to go to the plains in advance to inquire about news.

Scurrying across the plain with a stream of cold moisture.

Outside the mountain, outside a certain village on the edge of the plain.

Early in the morning.

Father Zhao left the village and walked towards the small hill outside the village with the rattan frame on his back.

On the way, a few thin women from the same village gathered together and walked slowly towards the mountain.

With a long gasp, the crowd began to walk up the mountain behind Zhao Laopa.

Seeing that there were only tree stumps left on the side of the road, Father Zhao had no choice but to quicken his pace, and couldn't help cursing in his heart: "Your mother, these wicked guys even cut down the trees!"

On the barren hills by the roadside, there are rows of peeled trees.

Approaching the top of the hillside, the sound of bang bang kept coming.

"Liu Ergou, what the hell are you doing?" Father Zhao passed the old women in front, his eyes wide open.

"I want you to take care of it, this is not your house." Liu Ergou, who was tied with a torn cotton coat with a straw rope, looked up at the crowd who came up.

Continue to cut down trees with a knife and sweat.

Father Zhao's lips trembled a few times, and he was speechless, so he had no choice but to continue walking up the hillside.

Finally came to a small elm forest.

It's a pity that the bark of the tree has long been stripped at a position that can be reached by standing on the ground.

Father Zhao took a breath, looked at the yellow and white tree trunk, and burst into tears.

Not long after, the old and weak people who came out followed him in a circle around him.

Not long after, a middle-aged woman finally plucked up the courage to come forward: "Uncle Zhao, by last night, everyone had peeled off all the skins that could be peeled from these elm trees. Take a look. Are we Also cut down a few trees to peel off the top?"

The old security chief with a wrinkled face opened his mouth tremblingly, and finally raised his hand to wipe away his tears: "Then cut it off!"

After finishing speaking, he stretched his hands full of veins behind his back, drew out the black and white hatchet that had just been sharpened, and swung it suddenly at the elm tree with a thick bowl in front of him.

Not long after, a gap was cut on both sides of the trunk from half a person's height, and the elm tree made several crackling noises at the gap, and Father Zhao hurried to get out of the way.

Put the rope on the tree trunk above the gap and pull it hard.

A few stronger women hurried up to help, and finally, the tree shook back and forth a few times.

The cracking sound became louder and louder. The elm tree kept tilting to one side with its canopy, and the trunk at the gap finally couldn't hold on.

The old, weak, women and children surrounding the villagers immediately swarmed up, each chose the position they had chosen earlier, skillfully drew out the various knives they brought, and immediately began to peel the tree trunk.

First cut twice on the tree trunk horizontally, and then hold the tip of the knife between the two cuts just cut, and cut through the bark along the trunk or larger branches.

Insert the tip of the knife into the place where the knife cut, slowly pry up the bark, and continue to forcefully insert the knife into the opened gap skillfully. After a while, a piece of bark was stripped off the trunk, and the tree was easily removed. The skin is thrown into the cane box.

Then move on to the next bark.

Dozens of people worked on a small tree, and the bark was stripped after a few efforts.

Even the thicker branches were stripped clean, and the smaller branches were cut off and put into piles.

Father Zhao's eyes were dim with tears, he was cruel and heartless, and walked down a tree
There are many old and weak women and children who have fled from famine everywhere in the village.

Under the burnt courtyard wall at the entrance of the village, between the ventilated stove and the iron pot built with a few broken bricks, a puff of green smoke was emitted, which was carried away by the late autumn wind, rolled over the courtyard wall, and diffused everywhere.

Aunt Zhao stuffed a handful of dry firewood into the stove.

Blowing hard a few times, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Standing next to her was a seven or eight-year-old girl who was wearing an old and worn-out dress that could barely be seen as a floral dress, looking longingly at the steaming pot.

Not long after, there was a panting sound outside the yard, and Mr. Zhao was about to enter the yard with the frame on his back.

Standing at the door, I saw the little granddaughter and his wife who had been patched in the yard, the son who was brutally killed by the devil, and the daughter-in-law who was raped by the devil and then hanged himself. The black hair that was full a year ago has now turned gray, and his wife's complexion is getting worse day by day.

But what good is grief?
What's the use of crying?
Father Zhao raised his hand again to wipe away his tears, and continued walking towards the courtyard.

"Grandpa, grandpa" The little girl beside the fire staggered towards the old man.

Father Zhao stretched out one hand to hold the girl who was about to fall, and squeezed out a kind smile that was harder than crying: "Daughter, you know how to help the baby!"

Footsteps continued to be heard outside the courtyard, and occasionally someone greeted the courtyard: "Father Zhao, today is thanks to you!"

"Why are you so polite!" Father Zhao showed a strange smile.

A crow "croaked" from the edge of the yard, shaking its wings and flying.

The black and thin woman who greeted at the door was startled, and ran away as if to run away.

I ran in a hurry, ran away from the straw sandals, and hurried back to step on the straw sandals again. Amidst the weak laughter behind me, I didn't turn my head back.

Not long after the sun came out, it was emitting faint light and heat to the earth.

The sound of footsteps passing through the courtyards became less and less, and the sound of chopping bark with knives began to be heard from various courtyards.

Not long after, there was another sound of pots and spoons colliding.

Interspersed with the occasional few weak cries of children.

Father Zhao put down the basket he was carrying, and first selected the ugliest piece of bark from the basket, put it on the blackened wooden board next to the small millstone, slowly peeled off the outer skin with a knife, and peeled off the whitish layer inside. The bark is lifted skillfully.

Then take another piece of bark from the basket and repeat.

After peeling six or seven pieces, it was estimated that it was almost the same, and the whitish inner bark of the tree was gathered together.

Raising the knife that was no longer sharp, he began to slash at the gathered bark one after another.

Duo Duo Duo's voice resounded in the courtyard.

It didn't take long to cut, and the strength in my hand was not strong enough, so I had to sit under the roofless eaves next to me, pull out the dry tobacco, stuff it into the smoke pot, put unknown crushed leaves, put it into the crack of the stove that was blazing everywhere, and ignite it. Tobacco bag.

My wife is sitting on the ground and taking a nap.

Mr. Zhao returned to the millstone, stuffed the half-cut bark through the eye of the mill, held the mill rod with one hand, and the millstone began to rotate.

The more finely ground bark began to fall from the gap between the two grinding discs.

Fortunately, there was not much bark, so after all the bark was finally ground off, he lifted the millstone, swept the bits and pieces on the millstone with his dirty hands, put them into a broken basket, and went to the side of the stove next to him.

Seeing his wife listless, she seemed to have fallen asleep.

Hoarse voice: "Hey, old man, hurry up and add more firewood."

My wife seemed to be asleep, and didn't reply like usual: "Okay, the head of the house."

Old Zhao couldn't help being amused, he fell asleep again while the fire was burning, he quickly freed his hand and pushed his wife.

The wife finally moved, but she fell to the side.

Father Zhao's heart skipped a beat, and he wanted to pull it, but he was afraid that the bark in the basket would fall to the ground.

After hesitating for a moment, he opened the lid and poured the bark into the slightly bubbling pot.

There is nothing in the pot except yellow water and a little bit of water vapor!

After the bark is poured in, it floats on the water, forming a thick layer.

Regardless of stirring the bark into the water, he quickly threw the basket aside.

Only then did he turn to the side, ready to pull his wife up.

My wife still hasn't woken up.

Father Zhao's heart trembled, and he reached for his wife's nose with trembling hands.

No difference!

Because there is no familiar heat!

He didn't want to believe it, and put his hand under his nose, the lungs like a broken bellows were blowing gusts of hot air to his hand, and the back of his hand was warm with moisture.

I put my hand under my wife's nose again, but it's still not hot
After thinking about it, he quickly poked his hand from his wife's torn cotton coat into his shriveled chest.

The familiar beating can no longer be felt.

Slapped himself across the face, then poked his hand in again
Still no familiar beat.

Father Zhao's ears buzzed, followed by a buzzing in his mind, and then suddenly went blank.

With dull eyes, she looked at the little girl who was sitting on the ground by the basket next to the millstone, holding a piece of bark and chewing on it.
The pot next to it is still steaming, this is what the whole family eats for a day

(End of this chapter)