American Hunting: Starting with Solitary Life in the Wilderness

Chapter 149 Hunting Moose in the River!

Like two nimble torpedoes, the two boats did not rush towards the moose herd, but maintained a distance of about 150 meters, keeping parallel to the moose herd that was crossing the river, and moved slowly downstream.

Lin Yu-an's maneuvering was extremely smooth; he consistently maintained a perfect firing angle between the boat and the side of the deer herd, creating a stable firing platform.

On the river, the scene became extremely thrilling! Huge moose were paddling hard not far from them, stirring up huge waves, and their heavy breathing could be clearly heard!
Patton's order came again: "Stan! The leader on the left wing! The biggest angle! He's yours!"

"boom!"

Stan fired without hesitation! The lead beast's body jolted violently, let out a mournful cry, and crashed into the river!
The fall of the lead deer plunged the entire herd into chaos!
They began to change direction; some tried to turn back, while others accelerated forward, causing chaos on the entire river surface!
"Stan, well done! Six more tags, let's finish this quickly!"

"Lin! Your target! The one on the right! The one with the prettiest corner! That's your spot for the non-resident label!" Barton roared.

Lin Yu'an had already locked onto his target, and in the instant the ship swayed slightly, he seized the opportunity and decisively opened fire!
"boom!"

The bullet hit its mark! The male moose fell to the ground!

"Little Eagle!" Patton's voice boomed like thunder.

"See that thing right in front of us? It's facing us! That's yours! Your coming-of-age ceremony! Fire!"

The young eagle's breath caught in his throat! He stared at the male moose directly in front of him, its massive head pointing in their direction, seemingly panicked by the fall of its companion. He raised his gun, his hands trembling slightly with tension and excitement!
"Hold on, son!" Patton's voice came again, this time full of fatherly encouragement.

"Forget everything else! Your eyes should be fixed on it! Aim for the area below its neck, its chest!"

Eagle took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He remembered his father's teachings and placed his finger firmly on the trigger.

"boom!"

A shot rang out! The bullet struck the moose in the chest, splattering blood! The moose let out a painful cry, but still stubbornly dragged its wounded body, trying to swim to the other side!
"He's not dead!" the little eagle cried out in alarm.

"Then fire another shot! Until it falls!"

Patton's voice held no pity: "Only the hunter's most basic respect for his prey is enough—let it die quickly and painlessly! Remember, son! That is mercy!"

Little Eagle quickly pulled the bolt, and the scalding hot cartridge case ejected.

He aimed again at the still-struggling moose and decisively pulled the trigger a second time!
"boom!"

This time, the male moose finally lost all its strength and slowly collapsed into the river.

"Five spots left!" Patton's voice, like a war drum, kept ringing out over the walkie-talkie.

"Don't stop! Keep shooting! Stan, that doe at ten o'clock! She's not with a calf! Shoot her!"

"boom!"

Gunshots echoed through the valley, and hot shell casings were ejected from the barrels one after another, falling into the cabin with a crisp clinking sound.

This was an incredibly efficient yet disciplined group hunt.

They did not kill indiscriminately. Every shot was precisely targeted by Patton, the experienced commander, who only shot adult stags and female stags without calves, never harming any fawns.

In less than five minutes, accompanied by a series of gunshots, eight huge moose fell one after another into the icy river!
The remaining deer scattered in panic, some returning to the shore they had come from, while others successfully reached the opposite bank and quickly disappeared into the dense forest.

On the river, the smoke of battle had not yet dissipated, and eight colossal beasts, each the size of a small mountain, floated silently in the water, turning the clear river water a dark red.

"We succeeded..." Little Eagle looked at the spectacular yet bloody scene and collapsed onto the boat, panting heavily.

“No, Hawk, the hardest work has only just begun.” Barton’s voice was utterly calm.

Looking at the eight enormous beasts in the river, which resembled small islands, he immediately picked up the satellite phone and dialed old George's number.

"George! It's me, Patton! We've got it! In S Bay, eight huge guys! We can't get them back!"

"Tomorrow morning, we need you, Hank, Cody, and the others to bring over all the boats we can to help us transport the meat back!"

After hanging up the phone, he gave the group new instructions: "Support will arrive tomorrow morning. Tonight, our mission is to drag these eight big guys ashore, perform initial treatment, and protect them to prevent them from being stolen by wolves or bears!"

They started the engine and struggled to drag the three giant beasts from the deep water to a wide, shallow pebble beach where the water was just above ankle level.

Patton began to direct: "We'll set up a temporary camp here, completely separate these three big guys, and then transport them back first thing tomorrow morning."

Together, they dragged the moose carcasses one by one from the water to the shore, where they skinned and butchered them right there on the riverbank.

Lin Yu'an walked towards the male moose he had shot himself and began his butchering work.

Barton, with his son who was pale and whose eyes were filled with shock and a hint of helplessness, came to the buck that he had shot down.

“Little Eagle, you see, this is hunting. It’s not just about pulling the trigger, but more about all the bloody, tedious, but respectful work that follows.”

He handed the eagle a sharp, upturned skinning knife.

“In our Athabasca tradition, for a boy to become a true hunter, he must personally handle the first large prey he hunts.” “This is your respect for its life, and your commitment to your future! You fired the shot, and it became your prey. Today, this stag will be your prey. We will teach you, but you must do it yourself.”

Barton's voice was steady and clear: "Start with its hind leg ankle, make a circular cut down to the bone. Then, along the inside of the leg, make a straight line upwards all the way to the midline of the abdomen."

"Remember, always keep the tip of your knife pointing upwards. Use the blade to pry open the skin, not the tip to stab. Otherwise, you'll cut through the muscles and stomach below."

The young eagle took a deep breath and, following its father's instructions, made the first cut.

The smell of warm blood and fat made him feel uncomfortable, but he persevered anyway.

“Very good,” Barton encouraged.

"Now, grasp the edge of the skin and start peeling it down. When you encounter a fascia connection, gently cut it with the tip of the knife. Don't use brute force, use a skillful touch."

Under Patton's guidance, the eagle's movements gradually became more skillful from their initial awkwardness.

When he personally peeled off the entire huge, thick, still warm moose hide, he let out a long sigh of relief. His face was covered in blood, but his eyes became incredibly bright.

Meanwhile, Lin Yu'an moved with lightning speed. Using the same method, he skinned his moose completely within an hour.

Patton switched to a thinner, longer boning knife and began to teach more core techniques.

"Our goal is to break this behemoth down into several main parts that we can transport, rather than a pile of scraps, so as to preserve the meat's integrity and freshness to the greatest extent possible."

He first demonstrated by inserting the knife precisely into the joint where the hind leg connects to the pelvis, and then used a clever leverage to easily dislocate the entire hip joint.

“Look, little eagle, the key is to find the gaps in the joints, not to hack at the bones. Anatomy is a required course for every hunter.”

He handed the knife to the eaglet: "Now, you take over. Find the joint of the other hind leg, feel it, and then cut it."

When Eagle personally disassembled his first hind leg, which weighed over a hundred pounds, his face no longer showed fear, but was filled with focus and a sense of accomplishment!

Through their combined efforts, the giant beast was perfectly dissected into four legs with bones, two huge backs, two tender tenderloins, neck meat, ribs, and other scattered pieces of meat.

While they processed their prey, Patton followed an even older tradition.

He carefully removed the still slightly warm heart and a whole liver from the belly of the first moose that had been gutted.

He took the two items to the riverbank, carefully washed them clean with the cold river water, then sliced ​​them into even, thin pieces, skewered them with several sharpened willow branches, and roasted them over a small campfire.

He didn't add any seasonings, just sprinkled a little salt on top.

Soon, a primal aroma of meat, a blend of the unique scent of offal and the smell of smoky firewood, filled the air.

"This is our respect for the spirit of the moose."

He explained to the curious David, “Its heart gave us courage, and its liver gave us strength. Before we take it home, we must stay where we are, share its first gift, and thank it for giving us life.”

He handed the first skewer of grilled, slightly salted deer liver to the little eagle, who was sweating profusely after finishing the cutting.

"Eat up, son," Barton said with a touch of warmth in his voice.

"This is your spoils of war, and also your rite of passage into adulthood. Eat it, and you will gain the power of a moose."

The little eagle took it and ate it heartily. The scalding hot and wild flavor made him instantly forget his fatigue.

As night fell, they lit a huge bonfire, illuminating the entire riverbank.

On the riverbank, four moose that had already been preliminarily processed and cut up were covered with huge waterproof tarpaulins. The other four moose had only had their internal organs cleaned; there simply wasn't time for them to undergo more detailed processing.

The four men took turns keeping watch, drinking hot coffee and keeping a watchful eye out for any uninvited guests who might be attracted by the smell of blood in the darkness.

The next morning, just as the sun was rising, the roar of the support fleet's engines could be heard from a bend in the river in the distance.

Four ships of varying sizes formed a massive V-shaped formation, sailing upstream against the current, cutting through the water towards them!
Leading the pack was old George's most spacious 18-foot Crestliner fishing boat, followed closely by Hank and Cody's Jon boat.

What was even more surprising was that the dog trainer Ryan also followed in a speedboat, and on his boat sat a man with a big beard and an extremely burly build.

"Hey! Patton! You guys, have you stirred up a moose's den?" Old George shouted from afar, his voice full of excitement.

As the five ships docked one after another, everyone jumped onto the riverbank. When they saw the eight giant beasts that had already been partially processed, even the most knowledgeable among them were awestruck by the magnificent sight.

"Oh my God..."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

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(End of this chapter)