by Bear Grylls
He fastened the bergen with the food and pushed himself to his feet. His legs protested – like him, they had been through a lot that day and had been enjoying the rest. ‘Just have to hang this in a tree, then we can turn in,’ he said.
James turned a puzzled face up at him. ‘Eh?’
‘Food can attract bears. So you hang it up in branches, away from your camp—’
Beck froze as he heard a mighty roar just metres away, on the other side of their branch roof. It was behind where James had been sitting. Beck didn’t even see his friend move, but somehow James was suddenly standing next to Beck, staring at where the bellow had come from.
Then a powerful pair of claws thrust through the branches – and suddenly half the roof wasn’t there any more. A sleek head covered in dark fur lunged towards them. The blunt muzzle opened to reveal powerful jaws lined with teeth that could bite through bone. The creature roared again, with a blast of hot breath that stank of rotting meat.
Beck’s precaution about hanging up the food had come too late.
The bear had already found them.
Chapter 13
The bear leaped down into the hollow. The boys didn’t even hesitate. They were already scrambling up the other side.
The huge beast trampled on the fire and reared up on its hind legs. It had to be a metre and a half high, its fur dark and sleek, like a black cat’s, but with a ragged white V-shaped mark across its chest. Beck’s mental database had already classed it as an Asian black bear. Mostly herbivorous but, when the chance came along, carnivorous as well. They were certainly known to attack humans without provocation. Like this one was now doing.
‘Shout at it!’ Beck yelled. He put his words into action by thrusting his head forward and bellowing with the full force of his lungs. ‘R-aa-aa-aa-rh!’
‘Aaaaah!’ James’s scream joined in a split second later.
Some bears, you played dead with. Beck had done that before. A grizzly bear might attack you, but only because it felt threatened or thought you were attacking its cubs. Lie down, don’t move, and it got the message that you weren’t a danger.
But if a bear was going to attack you for no reason, it wouldn’t be fobbed off with a dead body. There was no point running or climbing. The bear could run and climb better. That just left one thing. Make it think that you were just as bad and dangerous.
The bear rumbled and dropped down onto all fours. It didn’t take its eyes off Beck.
‘That’s right!’ Beck shouted. He banged his fists on his chest. ‘And now push off!’
But instead the bear lunged forward. Beck stepped smartly backwards and his foot caught on a tree root. He tumbled over and the bear lashed out with hooked claws that could have torn him open. He squirmed out of the way and the tips of the claws only caught his leg. It was like someone tearing a red-hot blade through his skin.
And James immediately stopped screaming. ‘Hey, Beck, are you all—?’
The bear rounded on him and lurched up onto its hind feet again.
‘Aaaaah!’ It was hard to tell if that was James playing at being big and dangerous, or James screaming in fear. Beck’s eyes were watering from the pain, but he saw James step forward, clench his fist and swing a punch at the bear’s jaw. The bear gave a surprised grunt and took a step back. It was probably the first time its prey had ever resorted to a right hook.
And then it roared in anger and strode forward again, its front legs raised, claws bared. James had forgotten his brief instant of courage and stood rooted to the spot with wide-eyed terror. He had about one second left to live.
Beck was already on his feet and hobbling forward. The nearest thing that might serve as a weapon was James’s bergen – the one with the food, which he had been about to hang in a tree. He raised it up and swung it at the bear’s head. ‘I said, push off!’
The bear swung round and its claw snatched the bergen out of Beck’s hands. But immediately its attention was diverted. It gave another grunt, as if to say Hey, food! and then flung the bergen down and tore it open, thrusting its head inside.
‘Come on,’ James gasped. He grabbed Beck’s arm and helped him limp away from the camp as fast as he could. Beck had the presence of mind to grab his own bergen and the boys disappeared into the trees, leaving the bear alone with its feast.
Chapter 14
Beck hissed through gritted teeth as James trickled water onto the gash in his leg. ‘Don’t waste it.’
It was a deep, ragged cut between his thigh and his knee. It was clotting up, but blood still welled slowly out of it. James had given up trying to mop the blood away. Beck thought the best they could do was let it dry naturally.
James’s water canister was back at the camp. The canister he was using was only half full. For the time being it was all the water they had.
‘We can get more water tomorrow,’ James said practically. ‘We can’t get you a new leg. It’s got to be cleaned.’
Beck glumly agreed. Everything on the tip of the bear’s claws – rotten meat, dirt, germs – was in the wound and would fester nicely. The thick fabric of his trousers had saved it from being even deeper. Those claws could have cut through to the bone with no trouble, and then he really would have been in trouble. But even a flesh wound could go bad very quickly.
‘Anyway,’ James added, ‘what else could we use?’
Beck forced a grin. His teeth were already bared but he drew his lips back even further. ‘Urine’s sterile. It’s not ideal but it’ll wash a wound clean.’
James gave him a cold look. ‘First, no way. Second, right now I don’t think I could – and third, no way!’
Beck wondered if he should introduce James to his friend Peter. Peter had trodden on a sea urchin in Indonesia. Spines had been driven into his foot. The best way to clean the wound had been for Beck to . . .
Maybe not. How would he introduce them? James, Pete; Pete, James. James tried to kill me once. I peed on Pete’s foot.
He had interesting friends.
They had kept going, up the slope and into the woods, until they could no longer hear the slurp and snuffle of the bear eating their food. They had settled down at the foot of a large rock, their backs against the hard stone. If the bear came for them, it could only come from one direction. James had already found a stout branch to use as a weapon, and gathered together a small pile of stones to hurl.
Beck’s bergen had the first aid kit in it, and a few clean clothes, in addition to his water bottle. James used a clean T-shirt to mop Beck’s wound and then wrapped the bandage tightly around his leg. Then Beck put his trousers back on, which immediately made him look a lot worse because they were still stained with blood. James made him put the extra T-shirts on too.
‘You could go into shock. You need to stay warm.’
One thing James had picked up was proper first aid training. Beck couldn’t argue. And warmth was going to be an issue. They didn’t have a fire and starting one might attract the bear’s attention again. It was going to be a long cold night.
‘And now sleep. I’ll keep watch.’
‘You can’t stay awake all night,’ Beck protested.
‘Huh. Watch me.’
‘We’ll take turns. Hour on, hour off.’
James shrugged. ‘OK. But I start. Try to get some sleep.’
Beck eased himself down onto the hard ground. He winced as he stuck his leg out straight. A line of pain ran up it, as if the bear’s claws were slicing into it all over again. It throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
Just what I need, he thought as sleep overtook him. This would really slow them down. And a delay against Lumos could be fatal . . .
Chapter 15
Beck prodded the remains of James’s bergen with his toe. It had been shredded by claws like steel. It would not be carrying anything else ever again.
His leg still throbbed and he was reluctant to move. He stood still while James scouted around the remains of their camp. Occasionally – about every thi
rty seconds – he slapped at a midge. Eventually he stopped bothering.
The branches of the roof had been tossed aside. The fire was out. James’s water canister had been bitten in two. The stove had been trampled to bits. The box of matches was ground into the earth next to it. Beck pushed it back into shape as best he could. A dozen or so matches were still intact. He slid the box into the zip-lock bag he kept in the side pocket of his bergen.
James came back with everything he could find. ‘The tahr’s all gone.’ He held up a plastic packet in one hand and a crumpled paper bag in the other. ‘One packet of noodles, and it didn’t think much of the Himalayan candy. And that’s all we have.’
Their eyes met.
They had the food in James’s hand. They had the clothes they stood in, plus a few spares. They had a length of rope. Everything else was lost, including one member of their party. Compared to what they had set out with, it was a disaster.
But they couldn’t go back, and they had the GPS. It had been in Beck’s pocket and it was still there.
‘We have a direction,’ Beck said firmly, ‘and a name.’
‘Yeah. Sangmu. Who is Sangmu? Or what?’ James puffed out his cheeks. ‘We could ask, I suppose.’
‘Sangmu? Anyone seen Sangmu?’ Beck shook his head. ‘They’d call the police and that would be the end of it.’
‘You think the local police work for Lumos?’
‘They don’t need to. Anyone who came across two lost kids would do the same, anywhere in the world. But, yeah, Lumos would get to hear of it. The one thing we can’t do is look lost or attract attention.’
‘So we keep heading for the coordinates Ian gave you. And we look out for Sangmu.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Beck concluded.
‘Sounds like a rubbish plan.’
‘But it’s the only one we’ve got.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ James slid his arms through the straps of the surviving bergen and waved a hand at Beck’s leg. ‘How is it?’
Beck took a few steps. When he woke up that morning – cold and stiff, because James had insisted on keeping watch all night without disturbing him – his leg had been on fire. It had now died down to a dull glow, or maybe he was just getting used to it. He had tried walking with a stick but it was too slow. If he just threw himself forward, and made his legs work like they usually did, and ignored the pain, then he could keep going at almost a normal walking speed.
‘It’s fine.’
He could tell that James didn’t believe him.
‘’Kay.’ James held up the remaining water canister. He also waved a fly away from his eyes at the same time as Beck slapped at another midge. ‘Well, first thing we need to do is fill this up.’
They emerged from the trees and looked up at the sky. Early in the morning birds tended to circle watering holes.
Beck already knew there had to be water nearby. The biggest clue was the flies and midges that were buzzing around. They loved to swarm near water. But birds were easier to spot . . .
And then there was the evidence of their ears. Beck held up a hand and they paused. Then they looked at each other and smiled. The chuckling sound of water running over rocks brushed against their hearing. They started walking again, and after five minutes they came to the river.
The water was cool and clear, fresh from the mountains. It hadn’t had time to slow down yet and it ran past them quickly enough to make waves. It was three or four metres across, and Beck wouldn’t have wanted to try and cross it.
‘Ta-dah!’ James looked so pleased you might have thought he had produced it personally. ‘And it should be safe to drink, so close to the source. Nothing’s had time to make it dirty yet.’ He took a step forward to kneel down beside the water.
Beck put out a hand to stop him. ‘We don’t know there aren’t any dead animals upstream.’ A rotting animal could be quietly sending poison downstream and they wouldn’t know until they got ill.
James squinted up the river. ‘How far?’
‘Say, five hundred metres? Five minutes’ walk.’
‘Fine. I’ll walk for five minutes and tell you if I see anything. You rest.’
Gratefully, Beck sat down with his leg straight in front of him. James set off at an eager saunter. A hundred metres upstream, the river came round a corner out of a side valley. James went round the corner and disappeared.
Soon afterwards he reappeared and waved. He looked especially pleased with himself as he approached Beck.
‘Not a dead animal in sight, and I’ve got an extra surprise for you.’
‘What?’ Beck asked cautiously.
James just smiled even more widely and shook his head. ‘All in good time, Master Beck!’
Chapter 16
Beck let him play his game. He allowed James to remove the bandage from his leg, and wash the wound – now clotting nicely – with fresh water, and put a new bandage on.
He looked moodily down the valley. They didn’t know where they were and only had a vague idea of where they were going. How far could they travel that day? He didn’t know that either.
‘We need to get breakfast,’ he said. ‘We need to stock up on energy.’
‘Breakfast is part of the surprise.’ James tied the bandage in place with a final tug and stood up again. ‘You rest here.’ He gave Beck an extra big smile. ‘Hey, why the long face? Cheer up. You’ll enjoy the surprise. And look. You’re always going on about nature – well, there’s a fantastic rainbow.’ He waved a hand in the general direction of the horizon, and set off while Beck was looking.
True, it wasn’t a bad rainbow, Beck thought. It was many miles away and it arced up above the level of the mountains. Despite the distance he could clearly pick out the vibrant bands of colour.
The day was warming up. The sound of running water was soothing. Beck felt he could very easily just lie down here and doze. It would do his leg good.
Unfortunately dozing was what he couldn’t afford to do. They had to move on. Lumos wasn’t going to come to them. What was keeping James?
He looked at his watch, and was surprised to see that it was getting on for half an hour since James had left. If this surprise meant just sitting around and waiting for something to happen, then it wasn’t worth it. And if James had gone and fallen into the river or over a cliff or . . .
Beck muttered under his breath and pushed himself to his feet. His leg had seized up again and he had to force it into motion. As before, once he had got his body into a rhythm, then it was almost like walking normally.
He followed the route James had taken. The banks were lined with thick rhododendron bushes. The air was scented with their pollen. There was no sign of James, but that wasn’t surprising because he couldn’t see more than a few metres ahead. The river continued to curve, and Beck was walking along a narrow strip of ground between the water and clumps of flowers taller than his head.
Then Beck paused, and sniffed. He could smell smoke. Wood smoke, strong enough to block out the smell of the flowers. For some reason it just added to his unease.
There was a sudden loud buzz in his ear, and a moment later he felt something settle on his hand. He was about to brush it away – and then his hand froze, just a couple of centimetres away from a painful sting.
One of the largest bees he had ever seen sat on the back of his wrist. He recognized it as a Himalayan honey bee, the largest bee in the world. It was a good three centimetres long, with a brown-gold body and wings. It crawled over his skin for a moment and he felt the tickle as it probed for pollen. Eventually it decided that Beck wasn’t some unusual flower and took off again.
The drone of its wings didn’t die away. It blended into a hum that had been there in the background for some time without Beck realizing it. A hum caused by many hundreds, perhaps thousands of bees . . .
The sense of foreboding grew stronger and Beck hurried forward.
He came out onto a stretch of flat rocky ground where the bushes stopped. The river r
an along one side. On the far side was a low cliff. James stood with his back to Beck, craning his neck up at something on the rock face. Next to him a pile of burning rhododendron branches belched out a column of thick grey smoke.
And in between, the air was thick with angry bees, growing angrier by the minute.
Chapter 17
Bees flew past Beck’s head like buzzing bullets. He forced himself not to flinch. Bee vision was based on movement. If you stood still, they assumed you were part of the landscape.
James didn’t seem to have noticed the bees or Beck. He was still staring intently at something above his head. Beck followed the line of his gaze, and his heart thudded. Halfway up the rock there was an overhang, and below it hung a golden mass twice the size of a human head. Its surface was crawling with more bees. It was a bees’ nest. It was made of slabs of gooey honeycomb, glued onto the rock and dripping with natural honey. It was big enough to house several thousand bees, and James had managed to upset them all.
Beck took a breath, intending to shout, James! What the heck are you doing! – and then he let it out very gently. Bees also homed in on carbon dioxide in exhaled breath.
Unfortunately he couldn’t stop breathing altogether, so he just spoke quietly, making the question calm and mild. ‘James . . .?’
‘Oh, hi, Beck.’ James turned round casually and recoiled as he saw the swarm for the first time. ‘Whoa! Where did they come from?’
‘Uh – from the nest?’
‘Oh. Yeah. I was reading about Nepalese bee hunters. They use smoke to calm the bees down. Don’t worry – they recover once the smoke’s gone. But they calm right down, and then you can get at the honey safely.’ The first shadow of doubt began to creep over his face. ‘Uh . . . They don’t look that calm, do they? Maybe I haven’t used enough smoke. Hang on.’
He threw another branch onto the pile. The buzzing of the bees was now a vibration that seemed to go through Beck’s body. He could swear it had just gone up a notch. Any moment now they would stop faffing about and go on the offensive. The poison from that number of stings, all at once, could send him and James into toxic shock. They would die, slowly and painfully.
