The Bear Hunt

The Bear Hunt

‘I tell you what Mike, you might think a dog has a good sense of smell, but a bear, now he can really sniff you out,’ said Jack

The locals really weren’t fans of bears. They were often spotted rooting through the bins in town (the bears that is). Only recently a young girl had been attacked by a particularly hungry one. Her throat had been ripped clean out before the animal had dragged her away into the bushes. The bear had fully intended on making a meal out of her, but his plans had been thwarted when scared away by a gang of locals, armed with picks and shovels. By then of course, it was too late for the girl; she’d not suffered. Dead in the time it took for her brain to be starved of its oxygen rich blood; moments, by all accounts.

Now Mike and Jack had been tasked with hunting the ‘killer bear’ down. The do-gooders wanted it tranquillised and moved, but they both knew that wasn’t going to happen, any time soon. They had all the gear though: a tranquilliser gun, sat-phone to call the vet; a team of people at the ready, even a fucking helicopter. They also had a very powerful hunting rifle with them. They both understood which gun was the preferred option. They’d just say the bear had found them first, was about to charge, so they had to shoot it. Simple. Fucking killer bear.

Little did they know how right this version of events would prove to be

Unseen, the bear was quietly, stalking them. He could smell them. To the bear they left a trail so obvious and telling, it was as if they were advertising their presence, on a huge billboard. If the bear could think, he’d be thinking: You fucking amateurs.

If this bear could also talk he’d tell them a sorry tale. One that had now become a quest for revenge. He’d tell them of the time he and his brother were cubs. He’d tell them of how humans had come across his mother and shot her dead. They’d hidden in the woods whilst their mother had made a last stand. She lost to the guns of course. Both cubs had only just been old enough to make it through without her.

The winter had been hard, very hard, but they’d made it, and now here he was, stalking two creatures who smelt exactly like those who’d shot his mother. A bittersweet smell that stirred opposing feelings. Firstly there was the feeling of fear instilled so long ago when they’d taken his mother. This feeling served to hone the skills to cautiously and quietly stalk them. Then there was that strange longing driven by the hunger in his belly; a raging lust to avenge his mother. More than anything, it was that smell, the smell of salted meat.

‘So how old was the girl he killed?’ asked Mike

‘Ten,’ came Jacks blunt reply.

‘If you don’t mind me asking why was she out alone at the time the bear took her? I mean, five thirty in the morning is an odd time for a ten year old to be out, isn’t it?’

‘To be honest Mike, I don’t give a flying fuck why she was out at five thirty in the morning, all I want to do, is shoot the fucking thing, and skin its stinking hide.’

They’d camped for the night and where now sitting on a log drinking coffee in the failing light. It was a small clearing in the woods, big enough to hear any approaching bears, by their reckoning anyway. There was a small stream nearby, Mike stood, stretched his aching muscles, and went down to the steam to take a leak and wash out his mug. The bear was waiting.

It wasn’t a bite to the neck that killed Mike he died through drowning. As he’d bent down at the water’s edge the bear had rushed him from behind. As he was violently smashed into the water, the only sound that emitted from his lips came from the rush of air, punched from his lungs. The bear just used his weight to hold him down. All to easy, fucking amateurs.

It wasn’t long before Jack started to wonder where Mike had got to

‘Mike!’ he shouted. ‘Don’t fuck about Mike, we need to get some shut eye, it might be a long day tomorrow!’

No it won’t, thought the bear.

After, what had remained of Mike’s body drifted off downriver, the bear had circled back around the perimeter of the camp. He kept his distance from the firelight and waited.

Jack was becoming increasingly agitated. He’d been down to the stream to investigate. He was a fairly good tracker, but he’d not needed such subtle skills, to see that a small struggle had taken place near the water’s edge. There weren’t any crocs near here, so it hadn’t taken long for Jack to come to the obvious conclusion that his worst fears had been met; the bear had been stalking them all along. He wasn’t sure using the sat-phone for a rescue was wise. He didn’t want to look a fool.

It was now the dead of night; the fire had gone out; Jack suddenly woke

He was about to die. He’d nodded off whilst sitting with his back propped up against the log near the fire. If he’d lived beyond that moment, the image that then met him, would have been emblazoned into his mind for ever. It was the grainy image of a massive bear on all fours rushing towards him. He just had time enough to raise his rifle and get a shot off, before his bowels loosened, and the bear’s teeth literally crushed his face, exposing the front of his brain, to the chilled night air.

The bullet had struck the bear, bounced off a rib, nicking an important artery deep in the chest cavity. It took a little longer for him to die. As he did, he had time to sniff the air. It didn’t smell any sweeter.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

The media do like to whip up a storm don’t they?

They love to generate feelings, especially the negative kind. Anger and resentment are the stock-in-trade of the media, and the more they can generate this, the better. On the surface, the vast majority of people aren’t really that bothered about what’s happening in other parts of the country, or world for that matter. Why would we be, we have problems enough, of our own. So in order to sell interest in themselves, journalists and the media in general, look to stir things up through the words they use, and the extreme stories, they cover. If there isn’t enough interest they embellish these stories or simply make stuff up.

I’m fully aware of my addiction

Yes, I’m addicted to the news, and know for the sake of my mental health, I need to cut it from my life. Because of the additional time this will free, other things, will start to happen for me. Watching and listening to all the extremes and vile activities of mankind will soon cease as I drift into a world of my own making. This must happen if I’m to survive and do anything of value with the rest of my life.

Filling our minds with feelings of anger is, in the long term, counterproductive

You might be surprised at what I’ve been angry and incensed about of late. It’s the attitude and behaviour toward each other that’s driving me insane. The way we still insist on the childish mentality of the witch hunt. The way we still insist on being the bully and not the lover. In this respect our emotional maturity is being stunted by those in positions of power. Be this the media, politicians, lawyers, religious leaders or the wealthy, we’re being kept in the dark, through their terrible example.

We cannot continue to think, that the policy of creating further suffering, is going to heal the damage

It’s the mentality of a bullying child to think that because we suffer, others must suffer, in return. It’s not working. The only thing that will work is when we start to take proper responsibility for ourselves and our children. If someone has harmed us, seeking to then inflict suffering in return, is similar to the situation of the circling bear. It kills us all in the end. There is no revenge, peace of mind or justice, these things are illusions. They’re illusions created by the lawyers, judges, and so on. Think of the story. Those, who wished for the bear to be tranquillised and moved, were close to the solution. To find a way to educate the bear is closer still. To educate humans about responsibility is the ultimate solution. We all have a responsibility to each other.

Rather, than going around in constant and ever decreasing circles, we have a responsibility to seek better answers

We can never expect to repair damage through inflicting more. We repair the damage when we accept and take responsibility for our failings. To seek revenge and justice only adds to it. Peace of mind is achieved when we understand and accept our failings.

Image Credit: Pixabay