Unshaken: An RDR2 Story

Chapter 12

Living the life of wanderer, never settling down, living off what I could find, was much more peaceful than I had anticipated. For the most part, I avoided trouble, only going into populated areas when absolutely necessary.

In fact, the only real trouble I got into during that time was when I stumbled upon a grizzly bear and her cubs. I hadn't been paying attention, leaving Scout at camp while I trekked downhill a bit to fish in the nearby river. 

I was drawing in my journal, a gift Arthur had given me months ago, my fishing rod propped up beside me. I wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention, knowing I was far enough away from the path to avoid humans, but it never occurred to me I had stumbled upon bear territory.

I heard a low growl across the stream, my head shooting up immediately. Directly across from me was a huge brown bear, complete with scars across her face, and two small cubs. I gulped in fear, grabbing my journal and standing up slowly, backing away. I wasn't sure what the best way to avoid being attacked was, but no sudden movements seemed like a good way to go.

Unfortunately, I was a klutz. A complete and utter klutz who couldn't walk forwards without faceplanting, let alone backwards. So, in typical Evie style, my foot caught on a branch and I went sprawling to the ground.

The roar was ear shattering. I could hear the huge paws thumping against the ground as the bear charged, my sudden collapse perceived as a threat. I rolled onto my stomach, my hands going to the back of my neck to protect it, praying to god that the bear wouldn't actually attack.

Play dead. Was that a myth or would it really save me? I had nothing to lose as the bear got closer, my heart pounding in my chest as I knew I had seconds before it was upon me. Was this it?

The weight of it was crushing, I was winded immediately as the paws crashed down on me. The sharp claws tore at my back, the leather coat I wore providing some protection. Tears stung at my eyes as I felt the claws pierce the skin on my arm, I bit my lip to keep from screaming. If I stayed still, she'd stop. Even if she didn't, trying to run was a death sentence.

But the attack was over as soon as it began, lasting perhaps fifteen seconds. Seeing I was no longer a threat to her cubs, the bear moved away from me, I heard her heavy footsteps retreating. But I didn't move yet, fear keeping me in place until I was certain I was safe.

When I did make it back to my camp, I assessed the damage. My leather coat was torn to shreds, and while I was sure I had some red marks on my back, the skin wasn't broken. My right arm was slashed in one place, but the short attack had focused on my back so I was surprisingly uninjured.

I poured water on my wound, hissing in pain due to the stinging, before wrapping it tightly with a bandage in Scout's saddlebags. Once I had done that, I quickly packed up my things to move camp, not keen to encounter another angry bear.

On that moment, I really wished I had one of the boys to help me - I was sure I wouldn't have been attacked with their help. I knew I wasn't cut out for living rough, that encounter had solidified that, though I had to suck it up for the good of the gang. But I was thankful that the only troubles I had were down to animals, not people. 

Of course, I should have known by then that life in 1899 was never smooth sailing for a female, especially not one on her own. I had done well for a month, managing to avoid other travellers, setting camps up far enough off the beaten track that I never had visitors (minus the bear). But my luck ran out eventually, a week after I had seen Arthur.

I was warming myself at the fire, camped north of Lagras and away from the swamps when it happened. I had convinced myself it was an alright place to camp, close enough to the settlement that I wouldn't run into trouble.