Surviving Bear Island Read Online Free Page B

horizon. I had maybe a couple hours of daylight left and I needed firewood. Tomorrow I’d climb the steep point south of my cove and keep looking.
    I hiked back over the point and rebuilt my fire under the same massive spruce tree, then collected more wood. It started raining lightly. I mean, you couldn’t even tell unless you stepped out onto the beach and tilted your head up; only then could you feel the mist on your face.
    I dumped some wood next to the fire.
    I was already hungry again. And even though I wasn’t freezing like yesterday, I still wasn’t warm. Warm like I’d been with a tent and sleeping bag. And dry. I still wasn’t dry.
    I took the emergency blanket out of the wrapper. It was silver and thinner than tin foil but really flexible. You could scrunch it up like a plastic bag and it wouldn’t rip. And it was big—seven feet long and about four feet wide.
    I draped it over my head and shoulders and pulled it around me like a cape.
    But the fire burned down and I got cold, so I shed the blanket, added wood to the fire, and then searched behind camp for more.
    I stepped over a rotting log and my foot sank and made a sucking noise, like I’d stepped into deep mud.
    Fresh bear scat. A huge mother of a pile.
    I twisted my foot out of the crap, then noticed another mound beside it. Now my heart was pounding. I scanned the forest for movement.
    â€œRelax,” I said. “Relax.” But my heart kept pounding.
    I looked at the scat again, and eyed some purple dots mixed in with the dark brown. Whole blueberries. Somehow they’d survived the journey through the bear’s digestive system. I didn’t want any part of myself making that journey. I glanced around. Gulped some air.
    But the berries. I touched my empty stomach.
    Food and firewood. I needed both.
    â€œBerries. Okay. I’ll eat berries,” I said. “I’ll eat a boatload of berries—whatever I can find before dark.”
    I hiked across the slope to a tangled mass of deadfall, where several trees had fallen, one on top of the other, and began pulling branches out, making a pile. I glanced toward camp, then I looked upslope and side-to-side, searching for bears in the twilight.
    I scrambled farther up the deadfall and there they were.
    Blueberries.
    I plucked one from the branch. Dark blue and round. I rolled it around in my hand and popped it into my mouth.
    Most blueberries in Prince William Sound have little white worms in them. They really grossed your mother out. She refused to eat them. But it’s a good protein source to know about if you need it. And, you can’t even taste the worms.
    â€œWorms or no worms,” I said. “I’m hungry. Bring them on.”
    I attacked the bushes, eating every berry in the small patch.
    Maybe this is how it is. Move along. Find a berry patch and eat. Fill up your gut with worms. Just like the bears.
    There it was again—in my mind—bears.
    This place is full of bears. But it’s full of food, too. Rarely will a bear prey on a human. Most bear attacks happen to people who are alone. We’ve got each other.
    I pulled more branches from the deadfall and made another pile of wood. I kicked at the ground. We didn’t have each other—not right now.
    BEFORE THE ACCIDENT
    Usually we hugged the shore. That way you had more chances of seeing land animals close-up on the coastline, plus it was safer. But along this stretch, after that group of sea lions left us, we were cruising a couple hundred yards out to avoid an endless minefield of rocks poking up from the bottom. It was my job to spot them.
    Off in the distance, I caught a glimpse of a big black fin. I twisted my neck so my dad could hear me. “Over there.” I pointed with my paddle. “I think it’s a whale.”

CHAPTER 5
    THE NEXT morning I woke to strands of fog. They reached into the forest and settled around me. I knew I needed to get over that