In June, the beginning of summer, the snow-capped mountains began to have oases, and our life in Coulter Village was also very smooth.
Although everything is still frozen, the number of animals around us has increased visibly, and our food is guaranteed. One day, Catherine found a group of fish with blue-green bodies and light orange heads somewhere in Spider Canyon. Thomas, who has fishing experience, said that they might be bluegill sunfish swimming from Lake Isabella. From then on, our Another source of meat.
Like countless mornings here, the sun rose warmly and cast a faint pink light on the white snow. John lay on the easy chair and meditated, starting a new day of life.
Mr. Fowler wandered outside the door for a while, looking around at the repair status of the house, then opened the door of the room where John was and walked in.
"Good morning, respected gentleman." Mr. Fowler has done a lot for the gang in the past few days. John said this mostly out of respect and a little bit of joking.
"Haha, I'm sorry, but the climate here is more pleasant than I thought." Mr. Fowler raised his hand and smiled.
"Yes, we can resist most of the cold here by putting on our cotton-padded jackets and burning firewood. But sometimes I can't help but cough. I think it's best not to take the temperature here lightly."
Mr. Fowler nodded: "Well, I heard a story about the threat of hypothermia. A young tailor from the city went to the north to tailor dresses for guests. He opened the doors and windows of the room before going to bed because he was too sleepy. He fell asleep without closing the window and a frozen body was found in his bed the next day."
"Did he freeze to death?" John couldn't help but shuddered after hearing this, and then wrapped his clothes tightly.
"Yes, at first the local sheriff mistakenly believed that the guest family had murdered the tailor. He was forced to accept the truth only after a similar case occurred."
"This incident should serve as a warning to us. Sometimes nature is more dangerous than bad guys with guns."
"The threat is always there." Mr. Fowler rubbed his hands, and then took out several bags of brown-black powder from the lining of his coat. "I bought some coffee powder from a passing merchant. I had some free time. Cook a little and drink it every now and then to expel the cold air from your body."
John took the coffee powder handed to him and secretly marveled at Mr. Fowler's thoughtfulness. If he hadn't reminded him in time, he might not have been able to sleep one night and ended up in the same situation as the poor tailor.
"Oh... By the way, Mrs. Manstar expressed to me her willingness to do something for the gang. I came to you to ask if there is anything she can do."
John smiled. With his understanding of Stritch, he would not let her only do some simple and easy jobs.
"She doesn't stick to 'what she can,' Mr. Fowler."
"Hey, John, I said I can trust your knowledge of the gang members. In fact, she wanted me to take her hunting, and I found you because I knew you were the best candidate." Mr. Fowler patted John's hand. said the shoulder.
John took the supplies and weapons. He knew that with Stritch's marksmanship, he would have no problem catching all kinds of prey. He didn't understand why she had to drag Mr. Fowler or himself.
"Let's go, I just need some hunting time."
Stritch had already fed the horses and was waiting outside the door. She had a bandolier on her shoulder and a roller-locking rifle on her back. From her excited look, it could be seen that she was looking forward to the hunt and was fully prepared. preparation.
"Mr. Fowler, can we leave now?"
Mr. Fowler smiled awkwardly, and then hammered the arm of John next to him, "This strong gentleman is taking you there. I hope you will come back with a fulfilling day."
Stritch's eyes brightened. She glanced at John, then turned and mounted her horse without hesitation. After a while, two horses, one white and one black, walked out of Plow Village and headed towards the snowfield in the north.
After walking for a while, John handed Stritch his map, which clearly marked the distribution of nearby animals.
"What kind of game are you going to hunt? Mrs. Manstar."
Stritch pushed the map away with disdain, something John didn't expect.
"Except for tigers and lions, I think we can handle the rest. In this case, to achieve the meaning of hunting, I think we should use some skills instead of wandering aimlessly and waiting for lost animals to bump into us."
"It's good to lure fish to the bait." John put the map back into his saddle bag.
"I brought some herbivore bait. Let's play a game. Put the gun back on the horse, take only a dagger, and kill the prey with just stealth and sneak attacks. Mr. Coster, do you dare to compete with me?"
John felt that the Stritch in front of him became interesting, so he readily accepted the challenge, "Why not? I'm not the kind of person who is spoiled."
"Stay away, kids."
John left the weapon on the horse and drove him and Stritch's mount away. After all the work was completed, he turned around and said to Stritch who was waiting next to him.
"Actually, you can keep a pistol, ma'am."
Stritch gave me a contemptuous look: "Why do you think I will lose to you?"
John and Stritch were in ambush behind two rocks. The bait was placed at the same distance from the two of them. John held the horn-handled knife tightly and maintained a posture of jumping out at any time. He knew Stritch's strength cannot be underestimated.
Not long after, a gray rabbit poked its head out of the hole curiously. After confirming that there was no danger, it came to the bait, picked up the bait, and walked back. John kicked his hind legs on the stone and aimed the tip of the knife at the hare's belly. He wanted to see Stritch jump out from behind the stone, as fast as a cheetah. The next second, the hare had been pierced by her dagger, and blood flowed down her side. arms dripping down.
"How's it going? John." Stritch took the rabbit off the knife and put it into his satchel.
John wiped the sweat from his forehead. He didn't expect Stritch to be so fast.
"I was careless, come again."
This time, five minutes after the bait was rearranged, a stumbling deer came running here, but it didn't take a fancy to the bait. Instead, it sniffed here and there, as if looking for something.
John knew he couldn't delay this time, so he followed the established rules. When the deer just stepped over the bait, John ejected like a bullet and stabbed it hard in the neck.
"You're not bad either." Stritch stood up behind the rock.
"This is a big guy. It's a bit troublesome to dismember. I'll put it aside and let's continue this game." John pulled out the knife and said.
Rather than saying that the two hunters were very skilled, it was better to say that Stritch's bait was really miraculous, attracting animals one after another, including a stray pronghorn, as well as countless rabbits, badgers, and squirrels. Waiting for small animals, John tried his best, but still ended up tied with Stritch.
"These should be enough to eat." After the last chinchilla fell in a pool of blood, Stretch said looking at the few remaining baits.
John kicked the first fawn he caught: "We have to cut off this guy's limbs for today's lunch."
Just as John's knife fell on the deer's front hooves, the ground suddenly shook violently, and then a roar came from the woods. John looked up subconsciously.
A huge black shadow is coming out of the woods...
