When they reached the hut again it was pitch black. Not a sound in the air, not a single star in the sky. The Shield of An was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds. After he had picked up the child from under the bush, he had been at a total loss what to do. Someone had put it there, maybe to hide it, maybe to abandon it. But who? 

The Bakuru never crossed the Cold River except for their raiding business. Curse them! But he knew of some other tribes that roamed the lands. And yet, why would they leave a new born under a shrub? Perhaps the mother was attacked by the Tenggo and could, just in time, save her child by hiding it? Or she could not see any way of raising another mouth to feed. It happened often. Even with the Jeong, even in Kemujin's tribe. In any case, he could not leave that frail bundle of life in the wild to its own devices. 

So now he stood under the thatched roof trying to interpret the soft moaning sounds. If only Yua was here. She would know what to do. She would make the little thing as comfortable as a bear in a den in no time. 

'It is probably hungry' - Kemujin mumbled to himself. Did he still have some milk?

He put the little one onto a straw bale and took the wooden lid off the hole in the ground. Reaching down he grabbed the pot. Still two good cups left in it. But how to feed it. He did not know a lot about the rearing up of children, but he was sure they could not hold a cup until they were a little older. So he grabbed one of his leather pouches and, careful not to spill any of the precious white, poured it in. Then, unsheathing his dagger he pierced a tiny hole in the skin of the flask.

'This should do!' A sense of pride rose in his chest as he inspected his work in the flickering light of the fire. Gently he took up the child and put the flask to its lips. 

'Drink!'   Two jade eyes looked at him in astonishment. But nothing happened. No sucking, no swallowing, no satisfied burping. Just a pair of bewildered eyes staring at him. 

'Drink! I milked it only two days ago....drink!

Nothing happened. 

'Oh...' it dawned on him. 'It's not warm enough, right?'. 

So he hung the flask over the low flames of the fire and waited. The child was looking at him patiently. When he touched the leather again after some time, he deemed it warm enough to try once more. But still nothing happened. Just two eyes sizing him up. No supping. Nothing.

'What's that? Are you not hungry?' Inspecting his device again, he could not find any flaw. He felt a little thirsty himself so he put the bottle to his mouth. But he could suck with all his might, not a single drop was coming out of the puncture. 

'Ohh...that's what it is!'. 

With the point of his dagger he bore deeper into the leather widening the hole. Now the milk oozed out and he had to be quick not to spill any. For a third time he put the flask to the tiny lips and now, like a camel at a waterhole, the child was gulping down the liquid.

'Finally..' - Kemujin murmured. 

There was no way of spending one more day here on the outer ranges. The Tenggo could come again and then perhaps he would not be so lucky. He needed to return to his tribe, to Yua. Five days of riding, maybe longer with the child. He could not go in his swift usual pace. 

So while the baby was gently drinking, he went over the preparations in his head. The water had to be sufficient until they reached the Panta Hole. At this time of year both The Fickle Fountain and the Yellow Spring could be dry as a bone. Three of the large flasks would be enough though. As for the horses, Maja would lead but better to keep them on the rope for the first two days. Until they were close enough to home and the horses knew it. The shack would quickly be ready. There was barely anything in it. Stash away the bee's wax and the flint stones. Grease the axe. Wrap the willow mats around the hut. Once he's finished inside he would be good to go.

'... It was almost three moons and the pastures grow brown anyways...', he mumbled as he was looking at the child. 'Right?...', he stopped mid-sentence as it dawned on him that the thing did not have a name. 

'Oh...what should we call you?...hmmm?...Well, Yua will know'. 

She would speak with the Jin and see the boy's name, maybe right away or later in a dream. Suddenly a hot wave gushed into his head. The baby would have to be fed as well while they were traveling. There was only one cup left, and the small flask was almost empty. Jiji was the last mare to still give some milk but Kemujin was not sure for how much longer. Her foal was already six moons and soon enough it would be weaned off. 

'Twice the barley every day and I will keep the foal close to her. That should keep the milk flowing.' He calculated once more: six days, maybe a week. Then he had to be home. 

The child had fallen asleep, softly breathing in and out. Just as when he first had laid his eyes on it under the spruce tree. He put it onto the straw again, checked one last time on his horses and then settled for a short night. At first light he wanted to get going. The days grew short and they were in rough terrain. Not easy for the mares to keep their footing. They had to tread carefully.

When the sun crawled over the horizon, he had them roped up in a line. They were restless and Maja was clopping her foot on the ground impatiently. Kemujin had had an uneasy night. Too many things were flying around in his head and sleep would not come. When he finally felt the Yellow Priestess weaving her veil dark images spooked his mind and a heavy load bore on his chest. With a dry mouth he had woken up, when the child had whimpered. 

He was about to tie the final knot around the willow mats cover, when he quickly changed his mind. Slipping into his hut once more, he grabbed his bow and some arrows. With the first snow on the peaks it was the time the cougars could already come down from the mountains. Better to keep them at a distance than being their prey. Then he finally shut the gate. The baby could barely budge in the tightly wrapped sling on Kemujin's back. It was not a comfortable position, but the only way he had some freedom of movement without worrying where the little one was, or...forgetting it on the way. 
A golden light lay on the cragged crests of the Tenshi Mountains as they finally started to move. The white patches, where the first snow had fallen, were glittering in the cold air. Soon enough the The Green Dragon would send the sun on its path, pushing the ice out of the skies and warming the land. The thought of returning to his tribe gave Kemujin a sense of relief, the thought of holding Yua flushed a warm wave into his chest. He had been by himself for over three moons, except for his horses – and now the child. And even though he could not hope for some conversation, he was happy, that  a fellow traveller was by his side. 'Or rather on my back' he thought. 

-

The first three Tian were rough, with loose pebbles on steep pathways. Some wolves had been howling in the second night but Kemujin had kept the fire burning around their camp. Unless they were desperate, the beasts would stay at a distance from the flames and the smoke. 

Standing on the hills, that roll down into the flatlands he could see the falls of the Yellow River glistening at the foot of the Tenshi Mountains. It looked closer than it was. Another two days of traveling but they could reach Panta Hole by nightfall. Then he could breathe a sigh of relief. Once they got to the river the day after, he would stay on the east side and make his way down south. Hiji was also still giving plenty of milk and Kemujin was in good spirits. The baby on his back was as quiet as a bat and sometimes he would to stop to see if it was breathing at all. But, as far as he could judge, the little one was well every time.

'This child...' Kemujin mulled. It would not be easy to persuade the elders to keep it. Only Jeong were considered worthy of being part of his tribe and with no father, no mother, no ancestry at all he would have a hard time claiming that Jeong blood was pulsing in the boy's tiny heart. 

'I will tell them that he is a fierce fighter. Maybe I will have to make some story up of how I found him....after all, he does not even have a name. He might as well be a Jeong!' - Kemujin tried to convince himself as he patted Maja on her shoulders. 

The trail became easier now and they settled into a comfortable trot and when they finally reached Panta Hole the last rays of the sun were dancing on the mountain crests. There was still plenty of water in the well and he could see the remains of a small fireside. Some burnt wood and the charred bones of a hare. A small party. At most three people. They could be out hunting to stock up for the cold moons. Kemujin was not worried. Probably Jeong, maybe even of his own tribe. Not many knew of this well. So he got a fire going and started settling for the night. By now he had developed a certain routine and after Hiji's milk was warm enough he fed the boy, then rocked him into sleep. The nights were getting cold already and at the foot of the mountains the chill was even more intense. So he made the horses lie around him and the child in a semicircle. That way they would have a little warmth and as the fire was dying down he drifted off into a deep sleep.