I don't know how much research I did for this chapter.

Fauna, flora and weather of Alaska. Flora and fauna of Australia. How to hunt on the snow. How to sleep on the snow. How to build shelter and make a bonfire on the snow. From how long you can hear a shot. How to skin and quarter an animal. Etc.

I hope I did a decent job for any real hunter reading this.

CHAPTER 4 – The hunting

TSince the team had moved to this new base, Sniper hadn't gotten the chance to enjoy the true colour of the ground. Every time it looked like the snow would make him the favour and completely melted down, it timidly snowed again during the night. By now, a good inch of everlasting snow covered the scenery and Sniper had given up on his wishful delusion. It would only get worse. He had done his research.

During the last month, Sniper had bought new equipment and supplies he never thought he would need back in Australia. He had also had to learn how to place snow chains to his dear van. That had been a very enlightening afternoon but only in the metaphorical sense of the word. The hours of light were getting shorter and shorter. For the first time that he reached to remember, he had turned on the heating system of his van. Nightly temperatures under the freezing point of water had forced him to. Had he stated already how much he disliked this weather?

From the bottom of his heart, he utterly disliked it.

One evening, shortly after the end of the Sandwich war, Sniper lifted his head from the kukri he was sharpening and admired, through the chick of his curtains, the rain of delicate snowflakes. It was 7 PM, dark already, cold and absolutely white outside.

Other people might have seen the beauty of it, but he did not. Instead, it made him feel homesick and miserable.

Trying to cheer himself up with memories of his dry and hot land, Sniper realized he hadn't gone hunting since arriving here. He had spent most of his weekends in his van or travelling around the area by road. Truth be told, he had taken on a couple of walks through the forest during the first weeks but he hadn't gone hunting for a full weekend like in the previous base. If he wanted to do so, this was the right time. The more he waited, the worse weather he would get and the less inclination to go out he would have. It was now or never and what a better way to get familiarized with this appalling environment than forcing himself to survive on it for 36 precious hours.

He was going to hate each minute of the experience.

Sniper double-checked his backpack for the fifth time. It could also be said that he fifth-checked it. He usually only re-inspected it three times but on this particular occasion, he wanted to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. The weatherman from the radio had promised a sunny weekend and Sniper had decided to trust his words. It didn't matter if that nasal voice with a quirky American accent was right or not, there wasn't much the Australian could do regarding the weather except being prepared for the worst. However, he wished with all his might that the man's prediction was spot on.

An hour after sunrise, Sniper got out of his van, glanced at the snowy forest awaiting him, sighed and took his first step towards his auto-imposed challenge.

After two hours of walking through the pure snow, he realized how tedious it was. The layer of snow wasn't that thick compared to the previous month, but it was thick enough to make a difference in his gait. It was forcing him to lift his feet higher and take shorter strides. Being a considerable tall man as he was, it meant completely changing his way of walking.

Sniper hadn't noticed this on the battlefield because he usually didn't walk that much but it really annoyed him now. On top of that, he was constantly looking down to make sure he knew where he was stepping and he was being particularly careful in the areas where frozen rocks might be beneath. Therefore, he was advancing slower than he would have imagined but he had planned his route with plenty of room for delay so he wasn't concerned at all about reaching the river before sunset. At least, the exercise was keeping him relatively warm. It wasn't as bad as standing still on one of his nests.

Around lunchtime, Sniper found a relatively small, yet welcoming, forest clearing and took it as an invitation of Mother Nature to have his noon meal. The sunlight generously poured through the area and Sniper smiled at the blue sky that seemingly vowed to remain clear for the rest of the weekend. While eating his snack in the middle of that icy calm, Sniper realized how silent the forest was.

With his own struggle and grunts, he hadn't pay attention to it before but hardly any birds could be heard. He remembered more activity from his first walks. Or at least, that's what he believed. He had read that many of the bird species of this climate were migratory but he hadn't expected such absolute desertion. He understood the birds, though. If it hadn't been specified in his contract, he would have refused to move to this new base. There must have been other teams on other warmer locations where he could have been sent to. Surely there must have been another Sniper who would have happily exchanged places with him. But here he was, learning about an environment he never thought he would have to suffer.

"Perhaps, in a decade or so, I won't hate it so bloody much." He thought to himself and snickered to his own cynicism.

Before resuming his hike, Sniper set some rabbit traps around the forest clearing. He had caught sight of what he believed to be rabbit footprints and if he didn't hunt anything by the end of the day, he might get some rodents in his way back tomorrow. He was definitely planning on having tomorrow's lunch in this spot again. He had to remove his gloves to do tie the traps and after that, he spent the following hour cursing under his breath of how cold his hands had gotten in such a short period of time.

At some point in the afternoon, Sniper spotted a deer of middle size. However, in the time and effort that took him to unstrap his rifle and get into position, the animal became aware of his presence and fled before he could take the shot. Sniper hadn't had many expectations regarding his hunting this weekend but it was a little more than frustrating to acknowledge how such a relatively simple prey for him, had been able to escape due to his clumsiness in this environment. He grunted and secured his rifle on his back again. He reminded himself that the primordial objective wasn't returning to his van with a nice catch but to understand better his surroundings so he could improve for the next occasion. That didn't help to soothe his feeling of amateurism. This snowy forest was refreshing his memories of a young hunter from a more shameful perspective.

A little earlier before sunset, Sniper reached his destination. The river resembled more a stream than a proper river but he shrugged it off. It would serve the purpose of his visit nonetheless. Despite the Australian's carefulness, he slipped on the ice that had formed next to the shore. Fortunately, his quick reflexes saved him from a sore fall against the icy ground and he subsequently opted for crawling the last yards. After all, he was already on one knee.

To be able to properly refill his canteen, he picked up a rock and broke the fine icy that had crystallized around the border. He didn't want his gloves getting wet by using his fist. He drank from the freezing water and his gums immediately screamed back at him in pain. He still swallowed without making a fuzz of it. This was just another little inconvenience he was determined to get over.

Sniper stayed there, lying in the snow for a while, observing the forest from the perspective of the ground. The sound of the stream made a beautiful background noise. It was better than the absence of singing birds. After some minutes, he noticed a column of smoke over the crown of the trees ahead, no farther than three miles away. The sharpshooter got a little excited. It had to belong to a local hunter who also was camping outdoors that night. Sniper made sure to memorize the exact direction of the alleged bonfire and stood up to his feet as the sun began setting down.

He contained his enthusiasm as he got out of the treacherous icy shore. He almost fell again in the process but this time he didn't grunt in complain.

"Small strides." He simply reminded himself.

Sniper would have been a liar if he had denied that he wasn't a little concern about how he was going to spend the night. He had brought a sleeping bag, expressively bought for this weather, but he hadn't found yet a single sleeping spot that suited his preconceptions. He had expected to find a small cave or a rock elevation where to make his nocturnal nest but he had realized a little late that he probably should have headed up the hill, towards the mountain, for a better chance. He was convinced that this other hunter must have had his own way of setting an improvised shelter and was looking forward to learning from him.

Or her.

Female hunters were uncommon but they still existed. As a matter of fact, the bonfire perhaps belonged to a group of hunters or a local family. He personally preferred if it was only one individual, for social and logistic reasons, but he would adapt to whatever he found when he got there. He always found easier to befriend or kill a single person.

Before it could totally get dark, Sniper got his flashlight out of the bag and pointed it to the ground. Having to walk through that arctic tundra forest during the night might have soured his mood in other circumstances but his new goal kept his mind occupied with plans and theories regarding this unknown hunter. He started feeling hungry at halfway there but that only motivated him more to keep going.

Almost one hour later, Sniper spotted a glimmer of light between the trees, more or less where he had predicted it will be. As he got closed to the bonfire, he discerned some kind of bushcraft shelter behind the figure of what it seemed to be a big man, kneeling in front of an enormous animal. That sight made Sniper smiled a little behind his scarf. That hunting catch was, most surely, a moose.

There weren't any moose in Australia. He had seen a couple of them during the night along the roads but this would be his first time examining one from so close. If he was allowed by the other man, of course. Sniper wished that the hunter had just started quartering the animal. He would like to watch him do it. Perhaps, even try himself. It couldn't be much different than a camel, right?

Before taking any more steps, Sniper loosely hung his rifle to one of his shoulder's side so he could easily reach for it if the meeting went south. He also checked that his kukri wasn't stuck on its sheath, ready for any undesirable action he might encounter. Sniper didn't want to fight this man but he might have to. Danger takes all forms and usually comes without warning. You can only prepare for it and hope to react fast and wisely. Another of the numerous lessons he had learned back in the Outback.

When his precautious preparations were concluded, Sniper announced his presence with a friendly tone.

"Wow, mate! That's an impressive kill."

He waved at the man to make sure he didn't look threatening or shady. He knew from experience that starting with a compliment would increase his chances of being invited to join but he got ready to dodge behind a tree in case the man started shooting at him.

The big man lifted his head from the moose he was cutting into smaller pieces and stood up from behind the animal to receive Sniper. The sharpshooter was struck by how hefty the man was. He was almost as tall as...

No... It couldn't possibly be...

"Heavy?"

"Sniper?"

Did you know that there are feral camels in Australia?

Now, you know.