Chapter 2. The bear: How it all began.

Five of us had left the campsite that morning. The snow had slowed mightily low, down to just light flakes as a miserly sun peeked out from behind the thick overcast sky. Our group had earlier set out to go hunt for hides to trade for food in the government fort. Rolf had begged to be included in the hunt, he was at the age so I agreed for him to tag along. He was kept busy doing chores around the campsite.

A few hours of hunting the bison had finally paid off. We each had gathered a decent number of hides to add to the growing pile and had also secured enough meat to last us through the week. We needed to get back quickly.

On our way back the snowstorm appeared seemingly from nowhere, it blasted us with all the fury of a thousand angry bulls. Clutching the hides tightly, and dragging the makeshift poles of meat, we struggled to keep together, but in the blinding rage of the fast approaching night, visibility was almost zero. Wild animals were our greatest fear at nightfall.

Mortimer stepped into a large hole and broke his leg, yelping with the awful pain, he tried to keep up. Eventually we had to leave him with Theadore in a clustered tree shelter, the other three of us pushed on, hoping to get help and return for them.

As the storm got even stronger, we became separated and the bear and I became acquainted.