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Alexie Pitka was an Athabascan Native and was looking for fresh meat near the Yukon River. The year was 1950. World War Two had ended a few years before and another one was brewing in Korea, but Alexie survived close to the land and was happily distanced from the tribulations of the rest of the world. Hunting for sustenance was a regular part of his day to day life and he was a very good hunter.
He hadn’t been able to find any moose or caribou for a few days but continued to see a medium sized brown bear every once in a while. Having never killed a brown bear before, he didn’t exactly consider them his first option for the cooking pot. He definitely needed to find some camp meat and decided, since it was the only meat he could find, that he would shoot it. He also knew that the brown bears of the area may get hungry and kill you if they were desperate.
He clambered and clawed his way along some willows and bushes and around a small lake until he got within shooting range of the bear. He was now about 200 yards from the bear and could see that it was actually a good sized black bear. Alexie drew down on the bear with his hunting rifle and calmed his breathing so he could place his shot in a vital spot. He fired his 30-30 Savage and the bear piled up in a heap, not even completing the step it was taking.
He was knowledgeable about the bears and how clever they are, so he chambered another round and fired over the bear to see if it reacted. The bear didn’t even twitch so he was relieved to know it was dead and he could approach it. He worked his way through the brush and toward his new supply of camp meat.
Alexie leaned his hunting rifle against a nearby tree as he observed the bear was laying on its side and clearly dead. As he closed the distance to within around ten feet, the bear sprang to its feet and charged. The bear collided with the man with such force that it knocked him temporarily unconscious. The impact sent a dull pain through his body and as he regained his senses, he could see a clouded shape moving above him. An unbelievable stench filled his nostrils and helped bring him back to awareness.
He knew he was on his back and slowly his eyes focused on the blurry mass now standing over him. The bear was staring straight into his eyes from just a few inches away. His mind was racing as to what he should do. He remembered that his knife was sheathed at his side and slowly he reached for it. He had no other options.
Alexie plunged his knife into the bear's gut and then passed out. When he came to a few seconds later, he plunged the knife in again and the bear’s warm blood flowed over him.
At that moment, he called upon his native heritage and started to speak to the bear as a friend, telling it to go away and that he would not hurt it anymore. Then he passed out again. His pain and blood loss was preventing him from completing anything to improve his situation. Each time he came back to consciousness he would pass out again.
After a few seconds of this cycle, he opened his eyes and looked around. The bear was gone. Alexie was barely alive and started to try to regain his feet and compose himself. A short time later he heard the black bear a short distance away throat its death roar and he knew the battle was over, but was not sure if he had actually won.
He had his senses enough to know that he had to get the half mile to his boat in order to live. He began crawling across the forest duff and praying the entire way. His blood was dripping down into his face and eyes. He wiped the blood away but could only see out of one of his eyes.
He had lost all sense of time as he pushed the brush out of his way, slowly creeping along on his elbows. After what was the most painful few hours of his life, he arrived on the bank of the river, near where he left his canoe. He was exhausted and had lost too much blood to stay conscious. His head dropped onto the gravel of the beach.
He wasn’t aware of how much time had passed but it had been 36 hours since he was brutalized. He hadn’t had any water or food for that time and he was immensely thirsty.
As he lay there, his strength had built a bit and he slowly crawled his way toward a brown blurry object just about 30 yards away. He was hoping it was his canoe but his vision was so impaired he couldn’t be sure. After an exhausting struggle, he had arrived at his canoe.
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27 сен 2024
