"This is most likely an Eastern Forest Wolf, one of the top predators along the Labrador Coastline. They’re intelligent, tenacious, and exceedingly patient."
Lin Yu’an gently touched the edge of the footprint with his finger, the snow crystals were still clearly defined, showing no signs of being smoothed by the wind.
"The footprints are fresh, no more than three hours old."
This ant that while he was rejoicing on the Ice River, this lone Wolf was ticulously "visiting" his ho.
He followed the footprints and found that the trail extended from the distant mountains and forests, circling around his shelter several tis.
There were even signs of a stay and digging at the "snow well refrigerator" he used to store food.
Apparently, it slled the stored food. After discovering it couldn’t open the 55-gallon barrel buried deep under the snow and weighed down with heavy objects, the Wolf headed back towards the mountains.
But this place had already caught the attention of this uninvited guest—it could co back at any ti!
Lin Yu’an stood up, casting his gaze towards the distant ridge line. Though there was nothing there, he felt a strong sense of being watched.
The feeling was like a thorn in his side, a gaze perceived by every skilled Hunter from another predator.
He knew the Wolf likely hadn’t gone far; it was probably on so vantage point, quietly observing his shelter, observing him, and the fish-laden drag sled behind him.
Lin Yu’an’s expression beca exceptionally grim: "It has certainly rembered this place, and with so many fish I’ve brought back today, it will undoubtedly co back again!"
A strong, combative impulse, belonging to a Hunter, surged within his veins!
He instinctively tightened his grip on the axe handle, and his mind began to plan the tracking route. He longed to imdiately take up his bow and arrows, follow that clear trail of footprints, and hunt down this lone Wolf.
Killing it would not only eliminate this huge threat but also bring him a complete Wolf pelt and dozens of pounds of the red at he’s been dreaming of! The temptation is imnse.
But he quickly forced himself to suppress this impulse with reason.
He looked up at the sky, the sun had already sunk below the southwestern horizon, and the sky was rapidly transitioning from bright pale to deep indigo.
Another hour and a half at most, and night would fully descend.
He shook his head, speaking to the cara, like convincing himself, "No, it’s already too late now."
"To track a Wolf that has an advantage over in the dark right now isn’t hunting; it’s suicide. Plus, my primary task now is to protect the food I already have."
This discovery and inner struggle made him realize that the accumulation of food he’d gathered wasn’t capital unless he had strong enough force to protect it; otherwise, it was a death sentence.
He didn’t linger further, instead took imdiate action.
Dragging the sled to the "snow well refrigerator" he had previously dug. This snow well, a ter deep, contained a 55-gallon blue plastic barrel.
First, he laboriously moved the heavy stone slab resting on the barrel lid aside, then unscrewed the lid to reveal the empty mouth of the barrel, containing only so mussel at and a few frozen fish.
"Alright, fellas, let’s start storing. I won’t move all the fish into the shelter; it would wreak havoc with the sll inside and attract unnecessary attention."
"Most of the food reserves will be stored in this sturdier, more hidden outdoor vault."
He began throwing the Red Spot Salmon from the sled, one by one, swiftly into the barrel. The frozen fish clashed against each other, making a "clang, clang" noise.
Once all the Red Spot Salmon were stored, he didn’t imdiately close the lid.
From the shelter, he took a few large pieces of previously burnt, completely carbonized charcoal, crushed them, and evenly spread them over the topmost fish.
He explained, "This is the first line of defense, scent isolation. Charcoal is an excellent adsorbent; it can absorb most of the fishy sll emanating from the fish."
"It can minimize the chance of scent leakage to the greatest extent, a technique old Hunters use to preserve at jerky and prevent animal harassnt."
Then he tightly secured the lid on the barrel, placing a piece of wood atop it.
Finally, he laboriously returned the massive stone slab, weighing dozens of pounds, to its original position, pressing it firmly on the board.
"This weight is enough to counter any flipping and prying. Even a Polar Bear would have to spend considerable effort opening it, giving ample ti to react."
After completing all this, he used a large amount of accumulated snow to completely cover the entire snow well.
——————
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