Chapter 87: Chapter 87: Brown Bear Group, A Perilous Survival

He had thought the volume of the Yukon River would be enough to transmit the vibrations through the ground, but it seemed he had oversimplified things.

The sound of the river alone wasn’t enough to carry the vibrations to his position.

Fortunately, this wasn’t his first time harvesting potatoes. Plus, he had spent nearly every day fishing by the river earlier on, so he had a relatively clear understanding of the nearby river’s course.

Combining the dampness in the air with the faint, almost imperceptible sound of flowing water, he quickly found the right direction to the riverbank.

’If I remember correctly, the first time I saw a brown bear was in this direction, too. Andre was right beside me back then. Looks like the bears’ habitat is somewhere around here.’

The closer he got to the river, the stronger his sense of unease grew.

He didn’t rush out. Instead, he found a random tree to hide behind and peeked out.

The gurgling sound of the river echoed in his ears, and vast sprays of silvery-white water reflected a dazzling, shimmering light.

In the middle of the wide, shallow river, three gigantic brown bears were strolling leisurely, their heads lowered as they stared at the current below a small slope, looking for who-knows-what.

’King Salmon?’

A familiar name surfaced in his mind.

While he was lost in thought, a black shadow suddenly leaped high out of the water, disappearing into the upstream current in the blink of an eye.

The nearest brown bear instinctively craned its neck, but seeing it couldn’t reach, it didn’t bother to move its paws and turned its attention back downstream.

They were positioned right at a slope about half a meter high, where the water cascaded down like a miniature waterfall, creating an endless spray.

If one looked closely, many dark shapes could be seen among the waves, quietly swishing their tails.

’They’re hunting salmon, just as I thought. Now this is a problem.’

With the Yukon Wolf Pack ahead and a small group of brown bears behind, could he even make it home today?

If he wanted to avoid both, he would have to take a long detour downstream.

’But going downstream presents new problems. I know nothing about the environment over there—the water depth, the current’s speed, the local wildlife, and so on. Of course, there’s also the biggest issue: I might not have enough time or energy.’

He had already been wandering outside all morning and was carrying twenty kilograms of potatoes. If he spent another two or three hours hiking downstream to cross the river, then traveled upstream along an unfamiliar path back to his shelter...

He dismissed the possibility the moment he played the plan out in his mind.

He lifted his head, his gaze falling back on the three brown bears.

They were still staring intently at the river below, their massive heads bobbing up and down. They occasionally took a step to adjust their position but showed almost no intention of moving.

SPLASH.

Another black shadow leaped high out of the water.

A brown bear’s eyes lit up. It opened its massive jaws and moved closer. Without any discernible action, the falling salmon flew right into its mouth.

Its sharp teeth clamped down, and crimson blood dripped from the brown fur on its lower jaw into the river.

Having caught its delicious meal, the brown bear flopped down with a PLOP, submerging most of its body in the icy river water. It held the plump salmon with its thick paws and began tearing into it with gusto.

The other two brown bears remained completely unfazed, not even turning their heads. They stayed focused on the patch of river in front of them.

’Maybe... it’s not impossible?’

He recalled his first encounter with the brown bears alongside Andre. They had acted the exact same way then, with eyes only for the salmon. Even after spotting them, the bears couldn’t be bothered to move.

So, if he moved a little farther away and was quiet enough, could he sneak across the river?

At this thought, he held his breath, glanced at the ground behind him, and slowly lifted his foot to step back onto a spot clear of fallen leaves and dry twigs.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

He patiently moved away from the river at an extremely slow pace, gradually picking up speed as the distance grew.

A brown bear’s hearing is similar to a human’s, but its sense of smell is incredibly sensitive—at least 2,100 times more powerful—allowing it to easily detect the scent of rotting flesh from thirty kilometers away.

If he and the bears weren’t both upwind, with the river carrying the air downstream and away from them, his scent would have been exposed. That, combined with the strong smell of salmon acting as a distraction, was likely the only reason he hadn’t been detected yet.

However, based on what he knew about brown bears, the probability of them attacking a human was less than one percent.

The conditions were: don’t threaten their cubs, don’t provoke them, don’t enter their territory during mating season, and know that their aggression increases when they are starving.

As long as he avoided these things, even if he made eye contact with a brown bear, it wouldn’t necessarily take an interest in him.

’With such high-quality fat available so effortlessly, they probably won’t be aggressive toward me, as long as I’m quiet enough.’

’Farther... a little farther...’

He only approached the river again after putting a good 100 to nearly 200 meters between them.

Looking from afar, the three brown bears were still standing firm on the natural river weir.

’This distance should be about right, shouldn’t it?’

He took a deep breath, pulled his gaze away from the bears and toward the opposite bank. After scanning it to confirm there were no dangers, he cautiously stepped onto the riverbank.

It made sense when he thought about it. This was the brown bears’ territory; what other animal would be foolish enough to stir up trouble here?

The familiar, bone-chilling cold shot up from his ankles. He hadn’t taken off his boots this time, letting the river water soak them through.

If he ran into an emergency, he wouldn’t have time to put his shoes on. To be safe, it was better to cross with them on. The worst-case scenario was he’d have to stay inside and dry them for half a day when he got back.

SPLASH.

SPLASH.

The current relentlessly washed over his calves, so cold his teeth couldn’t stop chattering. Veins pulsed at his temples, and his hands were clenched into fists, trembling slightly.

As he walked, he kept his eyes locked on the three brown bears in the distance. He only looked ahead when he moved, while also sneaking glances at the opposite bank.

Whether it was good luck or something else, the three brown bears never once looked back the entire time, right up until he successfully reached the other side.

*HUFF... HUFF...*

’I can’t linger here. I have to leave, now!’

He plunged into the forest, moving diagonally along the bank. He walked for a good ten minutes before he dared to stop for a short rest.

He didn’t stay idle while resting. Leaning one hand against a tree trunk, he scanned his surroundings, first sweeping his gaze over the more conspicuous clumps of vegetation, then looking down at the ground.

It was initially just an unconscious action, but when he made out a patch of dark brownish blood in the grass two meters away, his eyes narrowed, and he immediately moved closer.

The grass in this area was trampled and askew, as if some animal had passed through. But because it had walked on the grass, it hadn’t left any tracks, making it impossible to discern any specific information for the moment.

Following the trail for a dozen or so meters, a white feather suddenly caught his eye.

The feather looked rather strange. It didn’t seem to have come from an animal; instead, it looked like the kind that had been artificially processed.

’Wait, an artificial feather?’

A bold thought flashed through his mind, and his right hand subconsciously reached for the quiver at his waist.