Survival Of The Fittest

I held the axe over my head, then swung it down, striking it on the wood. The forest floor was no longer an obstacle to me. With the right tool in hand, everything here could be mine.

The scent of the pines wafted into my nose. The smell reminded me of my childhood, perennially spent outside. I was always eager to receive what nature had to offer me. I summoned my energy and the gods of the jungle to help me to my home, which was hours away on foot. The camouflage colors I wore protected me from most predators. But in the Cascades, some of them stood on two feet and were barely human, and viewed me as a threat to their existence. 

I left the chopped wood behind to mark my trail, in case I got lost. It happened a year ago, and my poor sense of direction nearly got me killed by a grizzly bear. I moved hastily through the deep brush, making it to a nearby stream, where I stopped to spoon water into my mouth with dirty hands. The water reflected my face, unshaven since I found myself in these woods. It had been a lifetime since I remembered anything other than this. My perspiration clung to my back, and my long hair did not help the situation. The idea of cool water on my body was welcome, yet also alerted mosquitoes to my presence. An arranged line of boulders spanned the stream’s width, the other side indicating the mouth of a trail. The rubber-like soles on my feet gripped the rocks as I jumped across the stream. A lifetime of carrying dead animals and trekking long distances had built the muscle I needed for the hike I was about to take. 

Immediately, I caught sight of a bipedal creature heading towards my direction. I hid behind tree clusters and under brush until they passed by. I knew about these animals, and did not want to be their next mate or meal. Once I could no longer hear them screeching, I promptly left the area. My pace quickened as I held my silence, plodding forward on the trail, my axe in its sheath on my hip. 

I stopped in my tracks, and looked down at my feet, no longer able to discern my body from the ground that it touched. The imprint I had left on this territory was clearly visible. The creatures living around me now had to contend with who I had become. 

Still a few miles from my habitat, I spotted a deserted campsite surrounded by wild blackberry bushes. I grabbed a handful of berries with my dominant hand, quickly eating them before any predator could take them away from me. Home still my destination, I found the trail once again, hacking away branches as I moved forward. 

As the moon rose, I saw my family waiting for me in the distance, on top of the mountain. I recognized their scent from a mile away. I climbed the steep, rocky hill to the cavernous cave where we dwelt. My youngster ran to meet me as I ascended the final few steps. They took me by my calloused yet gentle hand, and led me inside, where the rest of them waited around a fire. 

I threw down the bear cub hanging around my neck, and wielded my axe one final time for the day. We each stabbed our own stick through the raw meat, then held it over the flame. The scent of bear meat reached my nose, once again bringing me back to the days of my youth when I was sent out to hunt on my own. 

I knew I would find myself in the corners of those woods again, and soon. Looking at the faces that stared into the fire that night, I knew we had fought hard to survive this season, as animals went into hibernation and the weather already began to turn to ice and snow. I singed the thick hair on my legs as I walked close to the fire to sit in its presence. I knew one day, future generations would understand they could not only survive tough seasons, but thrive and evolve despite them. I looked around at my loved ones, and took another bite of the cooked meat on my stick. The taste of victory and bear was never so good. ⚢