American Hunting: Starting with Solitary Life in the Wilderness

Chapter 173 Snow Forest Hunt (It's almost the end of the month, please vote with your monthly tickets!)

After waking up on the seventeenth day.

Lin Yu'an walked to a corner of the shelter and took out a long, thick canvas bag.

Take out the components one by one, including a bow handle and two composite bow arms, and begin skillfully assembling this detachable recurve bow.

"A 60-pound recurve bow, unlike a compound bow, has no complex pulleys and cables, which means that there are almost no mechanical parts that will fail in temperatures tens of degrees below zero."

"It is simple in structure, absolutely reliable, and powerful enough to kill any animal in this land, including moose."

He precisely inserted the end of the bow arm into the slot of the bow handle, and then tightened the fixing screw.

Next, he took out the bowstring and hung one end in the string groove of a bow arm.

He placed the other end of the bow against the inside of his ankle, used his knee to brace the bow handle as a fulcrum, and then forcefully and smoothly bent the bow, easily hooking the other end of the bowstring onto it as well.

The entire sequence of movements was fluid and graceful, demonstrating his unparalleled familiarity with the weapon.

A hunting bow, brimming with power and modern aesthetics, took shape in his hands.

He carefully checked that the arrowheads were secure and the fletchings were intact, then slung his bow over his shoulder, dressed properly, put on his snowshoes, and left the shelter.

He strode forward toward the silent white forest he had never ventured into before.

His goal today was very clear: to take the initiative and search for any possible food sources, especially those animals that could provide valuable fat.

Wearing snowshoes, he moved with great efficiency, quickly crossing the area where he had previously patrolled the traps and entering a completely new zone.

This is a sunny, gentle slope, sparsely covered with low shrubs, mainly willows and birches.

“This is the Thunderbird’s favorite habitat.” He slowed his pace, lowered his body, and spoke very softly.

"They are the most common ground-dwelling birds in this northern tundra and one of the most reliable sources of protein in winter."

"Willow ptarmigans are masters of survival in the north, especially adept at camouflage. They are one of the few birds that undergo seasonal molting to adapt to their environment."

"In summer, their feathers are mottled brown, blending perfectly into the tundra and rocks."

"Now, as winter approaches, they have donned pure white feathers, almost blending into the snow."

"Only their eyes and beaks are black, and the tips of their tail feathers retain a bit of black."

"It's almost impossible to spot them directly in such an environment with your own eyes."

"Therefore, we cannot discover them by 'seeing' them, but by 'reading' them, by reading the information that the snow leaves us."

He began to examine the ground carefully, like a seasoned detective.

He wasn't looking for the birds themselves, but rather the traces of their activities. Soon, he found what he was looking for under a clump of willow trees.

“Look here.” He pointed to a string of extremely fine marks on the snow.

"These are Thunderbird footprints, very typical with three toes pointing forward and one toe pointing backward. Moreover, there are traces of wings dragging next to the footprints, indicating that it stopped here."

“And this too.” He pointed to the bare ends of the willow branches.

"See these neatly cut buds? These are the feeding marks of ptarmigans. In winter, they mainly feed on the tender buds of these willow and birch trees."

He used a small twig to pull a few black, stringy droppings out of the snow.

“Very fresh. This means that a flock of ptarmigans had just been feeding here not long ago. They were in the vicinity.”

Having determined the general direction, Lin Yu'an immediately entered hunting mode!
I began to carefully follow those intermittent footprints.

However, things were not as simple as he had imagined.

He tracked for about a hundred meters, and the clear trail of footprints suddenly ended in a patch of hard, wind-blown snow.

"This is troublesome." He crouched down and touched the snow, which was as hard as ice.

"The wind has hardened the snow here, so the Thunderbirds won't leave any tracks when they walk on it. The trail has gone cold."

He did not give up, but began to conduct a fan-shaped radial search centered on the point where the clues were interrupted.

“In this situation, we can no longer rely on footprints. We must think about where the Thunderbird will go.”

As he searched carefully, he analyzed, "Their natural enemies mainly come from the air, such as gyrfalcons and snowy owls. Therefore, they don't stay in open areas for long."

"Their most likely destination is the next place with food and cover, such as willow thickets, rocks, or dense forest."

He looked up, scanning the surrounding terrain like a radar. To his left front, about three hundred meters away, was a denser thicket of bushes, close to several huge rocks.

"That's the place with the highest probability."

He immediately changed direction and walked towards the bushes. This time, he no longer looked down to look for footprints, but focused all his attention on observing the environment as a whole.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to quietly reach the edge of the bushes.

Instead of approaching immediately, he first found a leeward spot, hidden by rocks, and concealed himself. Then, he began a long period of patient observation.

Time ticked by, and the world was silent except for the whistling of the wind through the treetops. Just when he thought he had misjudged the situation, his gaze finally caught a tiny, almost imperceptible movement!

In a small patch of snow deep in the bushes, a white, slightly raised snowdrift moved unusually!
"found it!"

Instead of acting immediately, he spent another five minutes carefully observing the area.

He not only confirmed the location of the single thunderbird, but also discovered several other nearly indistinguishable thunderbirds around it—it was a whole flock of thunderbirds!

At the same time, he was also planning his offensive strategy.

"The straight-line distance from here to their location is about fifty meters."

"This distance is too far. Although my bow and arrow can reach it, the accuracy will be greatly reduced, and it will also be greatly affected by the wind."

"I must reduce the distance to within 20 meters, preferably 15 meters."

"But there are a few problems with this route. It's an open snowfield with no cover whatsoever."

"The wind was blowing from my side and rear towards their diagonal front. Although it wasn't a headwind, it was still possible for it to carry my scent and sound over there."

He devised an extremely bold yet patient plan.

He only took his bow and arrows, and retreated, making a large arc, until he moved to a lower-lying spot where a small snowdrift could completely conceal him.

Now, he will begin the most difficult part of the entire hunt: crawling and stealthily moving through the snow.

He slung his beloved recurve bow across his back with a thin rope to prevent it from getting wet or damaged by the snow while crawling.

Then, he lay face down on the cold snow and began to crawl extremely slowly on his elbows and knees.

This process is extremely physically demanding and also extremely mentally taxing.

The icy snow kept seeping into his collar and cuffs, melting into icy water and taking away his precious body heat.

But he didn't care at all; his whole world consisted only of the bushes ahead and his desire for prey!
He would stop for half a minute after advancing one meter, listening to the wind and observing the surrounding movements.

As he crawled into the open area with no cover, he became even more cautious.

He pressed his body even lower, almost completely flat against the snow.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to go from fifty meters to twenty meters, a mere thirty meters.

When he finally reached the bushes that served as his last cover, he felt his body was almost frozen.

He lay motionless in the snow, letting his breathing and heartbeat return from heavy panting to absolute calm.

He slowly raised his head and looked ahead through the gaps in the bushes.

About twenty meters ahead of him, those few inconspicuous little snowdrifts still stood quietly.

They were completely unaware that death had already come to their side!

This is an excellent range.

He slowly and silently took the bow off his back, then drew an arrow from the quiver at his waist and gently nocked it on the bowstring.

He moved from a prone position to a kneeling position in an extremely slow, almost slow-motion manner, perfectly concealing his body behind the bushes.

He slowly drew back the bow, the bowstring stretched to its fullest extent, and the sharp arrowhead gleamed with a chilling killing intent!
Just as he was about to release it, an accident happened!

A sudden gust of wind blew the bare branches of the bushes next to him, making a few soft "pattering" sounds.

The Thunderbird closest to him instantly became alert! A pure white head suddenly popped out from the snow!

Lin Yu'an knew he couldn't wait any longer and released the supplies immediately!

"call out!"

The arrow shot through the air! But the startled thunderbird had already jumped half a second earlier, and the arrow grazed its claws as it flew past!

Then it plunged deep into the distant snowdrift, leaving only the fletching at the tip trembling slightly!

"boom--!"

The entire snowfield seemed to explode! The remaining Thunderbirds, terrified, soared into the sky, flapping their wings and emitting cawing cries, before scattering in all directions.

The first opportunity was missed just like that.

Lin Yu'an did not immediately retrieve the arrow, but instead knelt quietly on the spot, carefully observing the direction in which the flock of birds flew away.

"It was a mistake."

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.

(Good morning! It's almost the end of the month, so please cast your precious monthly votes for me before they expire!)

(End of this chapter)