American Hunting: Starting with Solitary Life in the Wilderness

Chapter 131 Deterring Poaching Teams
The three reorganized their equipment and began their journey toward the plateau where the Ram King had fallen.

Although the straight-line distance is not far, a steep canyon lies in front of them, and they must first go down to the bottom of the canyon and then climb up from the other side.

Just as they reached the middle of the canyon, surrounded by towering rock walls, a faint but distinctive buzzing sound suddenly came from overhead.

The three of them stopped in their tracks and looked up.

A white quadcopter drone flew hundreds of meters overhead, heading towards their destination.

"A drone?" Stan's brows furrowed immediately, and his eyes became wary.

"How could something like this be in this godforsaken place at this time?"

"Maybe it's those guys from the University of Alaska who do research," old George guessed.

“I heard that the biology department at the state university is currently studying the impact of glacial melting on alpine vegetation, and they might use this.”

Lin Yu'an also found it a bit strange. He looked at the drone's flight path and realized that it didn't seem to be conducting large-scale mapping, but rather it was moving in a fixed direction with a strong purpose.

Stan said in a deep voice, "The use of drones is strictly prohibited during hunting activities. This is an ironclad rule known to all Alaskan hunters! Hopefully, it really is just for scientific research purposes."

Although a hint of doubt arose in their hearts, at this moment, retrieving the hard-won prey was their only goal.

They didn't discuss it further, but simply kept this little incident in mind and quickened their pace.

When the three of them finally stepped onto the isolated rocky plateau, panting heavily, the sight before them made them instantly forget all their exhaustion.

The majestic Dorgon King lay quietly on the tundra, its body pure white without a single blemish.

Its pair of thick, heavy horns are even more awe-inspiring when observed up close!
Its perfect curves and deep rings silently tell the story of its glorious years as the king of this mountain ridge!

“Martha…look…how beautiful it is…” Old George knelt on one knee, his hand trembling as he reached out and gently stroked the ram’s cold fur.

Stan and Lin Yu'an stood silently to the side, not disturbing the old man's dialogue with his deceased lover across time and space.

They knew that this moment belonged only to George and Martha.

However, this tranquility did not last long.

The sound of tumbling rocks came from below the steep slope they had come from, breaking the silence of the high mountains.

Lin Yu'an's body tensed instantly. He immediately turned around and quietly placed his hand on the Glock pistol at his waist.

Stan frowned and quietly unfastened the holster buckle on his chest.

Soon, three figures appeared on the edge of the plateau, all wearing matching jackets with the words "University of Alaska Department of Earth Sciences" printed on them.

They carried what looked like professional hiking backpacks, but their presence instantly created a subtle atmosphere.

There were three Black people.

This is not surprising in itself, but such a single-ethnic combination is very rare in Alaskan research teams or outdoor groups.

More importantly, none of these three people possessed the slightest bit of the scholarly air that intellectuals or researchers should have.

Instead, they exuded a sharpness and vigilance honed through years of hard work in the lower rungs of society. As their eyes swept over the ram's carcass, a hint of barely concealed excitement flashed across their faces.

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

The tallest of the group, a Black man who appeared to be the leader, spoke up, forcing what he thought was a friendly smile.

“We are a research team from the University of Alaska, and we are conducting research on the migratory habits of Dol goats.”

"We've been tracking this flock of sheep with drones for a long time, but we never expected to encounter locals hunting them! Do you have any hunting permits for Dol goats?"

Lin Yu'an and Stan exchanged a glance, realizing that it was indeed the drone they were using.

The lead Black man continued, "But anyway, congratulations on this being a very rare and top-quality ram."

“Its data is very valuable to our research. Handling and transporting such a large game is very hard work. We can help you turn this burden into a lighter check.”

"Would you be willing to sell it to us? We can offer a reasonable price."

He paused, then held up five fingers: "Five thousand dollars, how about it? Cash."

Upon hearing the offer, Stan almost burst out laughing.

In Alaska, the hunting cost and value of an ordinary, standard-compliant Dol goat, including guide fees and transportation, far exceeds this amount.

The horns of this ram king are clearly not of ordinary size; in the circles of collectors, they would be worth at least between $20,000 and $30,000, or even more.

Five thousand dollars is not even a fraction of that; this is not an acquisition, but an insult.

Old George slowly walked to the front, now regaining the composure and dignity of a seasoned hunter.

He stepped forward, looking calmly at the other men: “Gentlemen, according to the regulations of the Alaskan Department of Fish and Game, hunters must immediately mark the date on their catch ticket and cut off the corresponding mark after successfully hunting large game.”

"Before the prey is transported away from the hunting grounds, the skull and fur must remain in natural connection with the flesh so that law enforcement officers can inspect them at any time."

"Secondly, although the law allows residents to sell the inedible parts of their prey, they must hold a special permit and submit a detailed transaction report to the Department of Fish and Game." "But one thing is absolutely prohibited: the sale of edible meat. Any use of wild game for commercial transactions is a serious crime."

Old George looked at them, then changed the subject: "So, do you want to buy its horns, or do you want to buy the meat along with it?"

This question was like a sharp knife, instantly piercing through the disguise of the other researchers.

The Black man in the lead changed his expression slightly, but still forced a smile and said, "Of course we're following the rules. What we mainly need is a skull specimen for research..."

"Then there's nothing to talk about."

Old George interrupted him abruptly: "This sheep was hunted for my wife; its horns are to be hung on our fireplace. I will not sell any part of it. Now I expect you to leave my prey and not interfere with our subsequent processing."

After saying that, he subtly adjusted the Remington 700 rifle behind him to an easier angle to reach.

"Old man, you'd better think this through!"

The shortest of the three, but the most menacing-looking black man, couldn't hold back any longer. He stepped forward, his tone full of threat.

"You two old men, plus this yellow-skinned kid, think you can get this three hundred-plus pounds of stuff down the mountain? This place is deserted. If something happens, the police and the law won't be able to help you!"

The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere instantly plummeted to freezing point.

Lin Yu'an didn't say anything, but slowly pulled the wood pump of the Mossberg 590A1 in front of them.

That crisp, loud "click" sounded like a battle alarm in a silent valley, carrying an undeniable warning.

Stan chuckled, took off his gloves, and slowly breathed on the barrel of his enormous Luger Super Red Eagle revolver.

Then he carefully wiped it with his cuff, as if admiring a work of art.

Those six dark, gaping .44 Magnum missile pods looked like six disciples of Satan, ready to seize lives at any moment!
The three people opposite them clearly did not expect this group of old, weak, sick and disabled people to be so tough. They felt the ruthlessness of someone who dared to fight for their life in the wilderness!
The leader, a Black man, stepped in again to smooth things over, raising his hands to signal his companions to calm down.

"Alright, alright, gentlemen, calm down. We're offering twenty thousand dollars! That's practically the highest price on the market!"

"We just didn't want such a good specimen to be handled poorly by laymen; that would be such a waste."

This was their final offer, and the price was incredibly tempting.

But old George just looked at them coldly and shook his head.

"This is the last time I'm warning you to leave." His voice gradually took on a fighting tone!

"Under Alaskan law, intentionally interfering with or lingering in the presence of others while they are lawfully hunting or handling game is considered 'hunter harassment' and is illegal!"

"I have the right to demand that you leave immediately, otherwise you will have to bear the consequences yourselves!"

He paused, a resolute ruthlessness flashing in his eyes.

“We two old men are no longer afraid of death. It’s up to you three to see if you’re willing to fight us here for these two thousand dollars.”

This final warning completely shattered the other party's psychological defenses.

The black leader gave old George a deep look, then glanced at Lin Yu'an, who was standing guard with a gun, and Stan, who looked indifferent.

He knew that this group was definitely not the kind of tourist-guide team that could be intimidated. If he continued to argue, they might actually open fire.

"Okay, we were being presumptuous."

He finally gave in, putting on a fake smile again: "I hope this hasn't caused any misunderstanding. We'll be leaving now. Good luck."

After saying that, he turned and walked back the way he came, accompanied by two unwilling companions.

Lin Yu'an remained in a guarded position with his gun, his eyes fixed on them.

Only after the three figures had completely disappeared on the other side of the ridge did he slowly engage the safety on his shotgun and eject the 12-gauge shotgun shell that was ready to fire from the chamber.

"Phew, those damn bastards, they really think we're easy targets?" Stan said, exhaling.

"Well done, kid!" Old George walked over and gave Lin Yu'an a hard thump on the shoulder, his eyes full of approval.

"That cocking maneuver just now was perfectly timed and executed! Remember, in Alaska, you absolutely cannot back down! If you back down even once, every jackal will want to tear a piece of your flesh from your body!"

Lin Yu'an nodded. He had been trying hard to control his boundless killing intent! Several times he had wanted to raise his gun and pull the trigger.

He felt he might need to study psychology, because he wasn't sure if his heightened murderous intent was normal.

It is very likely a lingering effect of the accidental killing of the motorcyclist some time ago.

"Alright, let's not let those few bastards ruin our mood."

Old George took a deep breath of the mountain air, as if to expel all the hostility he had felt during the confrontation.

His face once again radiated a pure, almost childlike joy, a simple smile of harvest.

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(In six chapters, could you please write about the interactions with Emily, everyone?)
(End of this chapter)