CHAPTER 505: CHAPTER 469: CAMP CONSTRUCTION

Brown Bear Camp’s chaotic day officially started after breakfast...

Wayne swore to help Mountain Eagle build a luxurious wooden house, and he also coordinated with the Hunter to explore the whereabouts of cattle and sheep nearby...

For some reason, since Mountain Eagle arrived, the cell signal around here got better. As an Indian, he has been on the phone non-stop all day, busier than a white-collar worker in an office.

Old Ruby and his son pulled out an old wood-cutting machine, estimated to be seventy or eighty years old, from the warehouse to fix it and cut the rough logs into wooden boards 5 centimeters thick as requested.

The wild noise of the old machine made the camp extremely noisy.

For someone from the city, this might be unbearable, but the natives unexpectedly enjoy it.

It’s not the noise they like, but the bustle.

In the remote areas of Alaska, such large machinery is truly a rare resource.

Although it should be in a museum due to its age, the wooden boards it produces are only a bit more wasteful and rougher compared to modern machines, which the natives don’t really mind.

It’s not easy to drag this three or four-ton machine out of the depths of the warehouse, and once it starts, it needs to work enough before it can be stored again.

Many years ago, Mountain Eagle saw a similar scene where farmers collected rice or rapeseeds, then lined up at the production team’s workshop to mill the rice and press the oil.

The production team workshop wouldn’t take money, leaving the rice bran and seed cake was enough.

Now, Brown Bear Camp had a bit of the production team’s vibe...

Once the old machine started, the Indian brothers in the camp began to make calls and gather people...

Then soon, natives would arrive by boat, dragging a dozen logs to Brown Bear Camp, lining up while helping out.

Mountain Eagle stood by and watched for a while, realizing that most of the wood brought by the Indians was not cut down but picked up along the Yukon River.

Every thawing season, floods would carry numerous trees into the river, many of them quality materials.

If the accumulation of trees was left unchecked, it could easily block the narrow rivers, posing a safety hazard.

These Indians had nothing at home and relied on God for their sustenance. After discovering the driftwood, they would drag it home, either as building materials or as wood for heating.

The logs processed here into boards were the best ones fished out of the river, reducing their construction costs and difficulty by half.

People imagine wooden houses to be structurally robust and simple to build, but in fact, in areas lacking mechanical assistance, the cost and difficulty of building such homes are very high.

To erect a wooden house of seventy to eighty square meters, that doesn’t leak in winter nor summer in Alaska with eight months of winter requires an experienced carpenter and a few helpers laboring for two, even three years.

By comparison, building houses with boards is much faster!

It’s no exaggeration to say that every time Old Ruby runs the machine, the natives in Alaska gain a dozen more houses.

Those who came to saw the woods didn’t come empty-handed; some brought hundreds of fish, some brought a reindeer, and at the least, they would bring a few buckets of berries.

During the wait, they kept busy; some went to help at the wooden house construction site, others simply unloaded the wood and headed across the river to the wetlands to fish and hunt, then all the catches and game would be shared at the camp.

No one talked about money, nor did anyone cheat or slack, anyone who could move was not idle...

Not just people, even passing dogs were harnessed with ropes, dragging plastic sleds into the woods, helping to transport mushrooms and berries picked by the women.

If not for the mismatch in dress and language, Mountain Eagle could even think he had returned to the era of production teams.

Who said the United States was a capitalist country? This is pure socialism!

Such socialism, can only possibly occur where per capita resources are extremely abundant, and money plays a less significant role.

Compared to Old Ruby who was manning the sawing machine and enjoying the adoration of the Indians, Little Ruby was much more pragmatic and focused.

Although this simple-minded fellow wasn’t very smart, he was excellent at manual labor, and he had maxed out all his skills related to construction, repair, and driving.

While everyone else was busy sawing wood and building houses, Little Ruby, with the help of a small excavator and following the blueprints of the ordered greenhouse, built a nearly 600 square meters greenhouse on a cleared trash site.

Aluminum finished profiles, combined with concrete piles made on-site and transparent plastic plates, it took only about half a month for the dome-shaped large greenhouse to be completed.

Mountain Eagle strolled over when Little Ruby was deep in thought, reading a thick manual. He needed to fit ventilation fans on the top of the greenhouse and was also planning to install diverting gutters on both sides to collect rainwater for internal irrigation.

Even with a large number of photovoltaic panels and batteries, this engineer with an IQ of just over 90 was practically designing a drip irrigation system.

The only problem was, even with these facilities, the greenhouse still couldn’t meet the conditions for growing vegetables in Alaska’s winter.

Mountain Eagle chatted with Little Ruby for a while, then wholeheartedly encouraged him to keep going and figure out how to add a geothermal system.

The plans for such a system are all available online: get a boiler, lay some pipes underground, then install sun lamps like those used for growing cannabis; with that, the greenhouse could even grow vegetables during the polar night in the winter.

Little Ruby, quite skillful with his hands, suddenly had an epiphany under his boss’s guidance and vowed to have the greenhouse ready with all the desired vegetables before the winter.

Mountain Eagle truly enjoyed this kind of atmosphere...

If Luna didn’t keep interfering, his son wouldn’t always come to complain that he can’t beat Luna and needs to eat more beef to duel with her, and time would pass even quicker.

Eventually, he had to leave his scientific discussions with Little Ruby, told the engineer not to rush too much, and then herded a bunch of boisterous kids like ducks to a childcare room at Brown Bear Camp, where there were now fifteen infants aged 0-2.

Shasili, whom Mountain Eagle had rescued in Thailand, hadn’t had a chance to speak with her boss since his arrival because of a dozen kids needing constant care, exhausting her.

Even with help from Indian women, Shasili, since collapsing Mountain Eagle, had lost all the weight she had gained at Sunset Mountain in a month and a half; now she seemed so fragile, a gust of wind might carry her away.

Mountain Eagle really pitied the girl, but he wasn’t the kind of boss to advise rest, because you can’t fool anyone about your own state...

If you don’t like it, your effort is just for show, and you won’t last long before taking shortcuts.

If you like it, my advice to rest is pointless.

A competent boss should raise wages at this point, letting those who dislike their job keep it up a bit longer, and those who enjoy it receive pay that matches their effort.

After announcing a pay raise for Shasili, Mountain Eagle tossed a few energetic kids her way, instructing her to teach these rambunctious kids how to care for even smaller babies and let them understand the hardships of parenthood.

No need for meticulous care, they are all tough kids, just handle them gently, ensure they’re well-fed and healthy.

While Mountain Eagle was busying himself, a small transport plane circled over the camp then landed on a distant runway under Little Ruby’s radio direction.

Little Ruby drove a trailer loaded with wood to the side of the runway...

He first greeted the airplane’s pilot, then enthusiastically waved at a friend Tiffany, shouting, "Hey, Tiffany, over here, get on..."

Red Sparrow, a tall figure with honey-colored skin and black wavy hair, whistled and said to Tiffany, who was packing her backpack, "Wow, didn’t expect you to be so popular; look at him, a fine young man who definitely won’t sue his wife for custody of the kids..."

Saying that Red Sparrow looked at the nearby petite white girl, Glasses, and said, "Wouldn’t you agree?"

The harmlessly-looking Glasses gave Red Sparrow the middle finger and cursed, "FUCK YOU..."

Tiffany turned back and glared at Red Sparrow, "Don’t talk nonsense, Little Ruby’s not too bright, and he’ll take everything you say seriously."

With a flamboyant personality, Red Sparrow pouted, "OK, I’ll stop talking..."

Then she turned to look at two disheveled men exiting the plane last and shouted, "Hey, Loser Brothers, can you hurry up? Our ride’s here."

One of the men, middle-aged with a narrow face and stubble, turned his baseball cap around and picked up a large bag, looking somewhat weary, "Alright, whatever makes you happy..."

As he walked towards Little Ruby, the other stocky ginger picked up a similar bag and, giving Red Sparrow the middle finger, muttered...

"FUCK YOU..."

Red Sparrow seemed to enjoy being cursed at; she stretched her arms, took a deep breath of Alaska’s air, and exclaimed loudly, "I love this place, I love the sensation of freedom..."

Miranda, dressed in a smart black suit with a silk shirt peeking from underneath, looked professionally sharp.

Facing the indulgent Red Sparrow, Miranda said sternly, "You need to tone it down, we first have to get through the interviews to land a stable job.

Otherwise, you’ll have to return to stripping in bars, living off the wallets of those perverts."

Red Sparrow clearly respected Miranda; she shrugged and responded, "Just an interview, how could we possibly lose to the Loser Brothers?"

Tiffany, well-acquainted with the trio, while pushing Red Sparrow onto the vehicle, said, "CCT and MRR soldiers aren’t losers...

They just don’t want to sleep with you, doesn’t mean they’re useless!"