Dream Life Chapter 40.2: “Hunter”

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“I was testing to see how well Young Master Zacharias could walk in the forest. Joan and Ted didn’t want you coming only to get tired on the way. I told them I was fine, but they just couldn’t believe it…” (Rob)

“Raise your head. Joan and Ted have every right to be worried. If I can’t walk at least as well as Davy it’s no good, right?” (Zack)

　Joan and Ted bowed their heads to me, looking embarrassed.

　I waved my hand as if to say, “Forget it,” and motioned to Davy.

“But Davy is amazing. He can keep up with the adult hunters. I’m going to have to work even harder.” (Zack)

　I pat Davy on the shoulder as I say this.

　He is surprised by my action.

“No it’s not true. I’m really exhausted. I’m surprised by Young Master Zacharias. I thought you’d complain…” (Davy)

　In fact, Davy seemed to be exhausted as well. But he didn’t let it show on his face at all, out of stubbornness towards me.

(He’s pretty competitive, isn’t he? You have to be that competitive to be a hunter?) (Zack)

“It’s okay to just call me Zack. It’s hard to talk to me if I’m Young Master Zacharias, right?” (Zack)

　With that one word, their faces break into smiles. I guess they were a little nervous because they were dealing with the son of a lord. They seemed a little relieved by my casual attitude.

　I don’t know if it was because of this or not, but on the way back home, they seemed to be more relaxed than they had been in the forest.

　On the way back to the village, we asked questions about hand signs and tips on how to walk, and returned to the village in companionable air.

　The next day, after morning training, I headed to Rob’s house.

　Mel and Dan were yelling at me to let them go with me as usual, but I was not about to give in on this one. I’m sorry to say, but I’d be a real liability to anyone but myself, and that would be a problem for Rob and the others. Maybe even I’ll be a nuisance, but I’ll be able to make up for it with my Recovery Magic.

　Rob and the other hunters have a house near Black Rough near Black Pond in South Hill.

　It is convenient for hunting migratory birds in winter.

　We meet up with the four of them at his house. Joan and Ted both smile at me, a change from yesterday. Davy’s expression is still stiff, but I don’t mind too much because at his age it would take him a while to get himself together.

“Today we are going to the South Forest. There aren’t many monsters in the South Forest, but sometimes there are bears…” (Rob)

　Rob seemed uncomfortable using honorifics, so I told him there was no need to use them.

“I was glad to hear that. I’m sorry, Master Zack, but I’m going to talk to you casually. There are bears in the South Forest. They’re grizzly bears usually, but even so, they’re a pretty bad match with our bows…” (Rob)

　According to him, there are many wild boars, deer, and rabbits in the South Forest, but bears can get into the forests, so we had to be careful. He said it is quite difficult to take down a bear with a bow alone, so even if he finds one, he stays away from it and only calls the Village Patrol.

(Even a black bear seems to be hard to kill with a bow. The bullets used to shoot bears were made of lead, and I guess you would have to set a trap for a gray bear larger than that.) (Zack)

　I had an uncle who was a hunter like a Matagi [T/N: Ancient Hunting tribe in Japan], specializing in boars and bears. He kept three ferocious Akita dogs that never missed finding me, and from late fall he would go into the mountains every day, half-farmer, half-hunter. I once saw a bear that my uncle had killed. It was a rather small bear, just over one meter long, but I remember its rough fur well.

　The five of us crossed Black Pond by boat and entered South Forest.

　The vegetation was not much different from the East and West Forests, but the trees seemed a bit smaller. There were many fallen trees and the undergrowth was quite dense.

　I was told later that when the village of Rathmore was established, about a hundred years ago, there was a large forest fire. At that time, most of the trees were burned and there were no large trees over a hundred years old.

　Fortunately, because of the Woodford River, Black Pond, and the Black River, and because the wind direction was to the north, the fire did not jump to Rathmore Village.

　We walked at a slow pace through its dense forest.

　Occasionally, rabbits and pheasants would appear, but they had escaped several times.

　We did not force our way as we did yesterday, and after about two hours, we took a short break.

　We don’t get any game, but we do get quite a bit of wild fruit–plum-like berries and cherries. I ask what they do with them, and they say they sell them to Scott’s distillery.

(I guess Rob and his friends were taking the raw materials for fruit wine. Surely, with such a rich forest, there is no shortage of raw materials. …There are quite a few cherry trees. This one can be used for smoking…)

　We start walking again and are soon stopped by Rob’s hand sign.

　His hand sign was that there was a pheasant or mountain bird ahead.

　We crouch quietly in place. Then we stayed like that for a minute or two to get rid of our presence, and slowly prepared they prepared their bows.

　I followed their movements with my eyes and did not move. I don’t move to get in their way.

　Rob makes almost no sound as he moves through the grass. He has a knack for it, and the grass is barely moving. Soon he disappears and time stops for a minute.

　The only sounds around him are the chirping of cicadas and the grass shaking in the wind. There is no sense that there are four hunters within ten meters.

　The silence is broken by the sound of Rob and the others getting up.

　The sound of arrows being shot and the high-pitched cry of a bird echoes through the forest. Soon the buzzing sound of birds struggling could be heard, followed by the sharp voices of Rob and the others.

　Rob returned with a pheasant with beautiful feathers.

“It’s a fine pheasant. It’s for the mansion,” he says with a smile, showing it to me.

　After that, we kill two rabbits and a pheasant and then take a break.

　During the break, I ask Rob how to get rid of my presence.

“Move slowly so you don’t knock over the grass. And never take your eyes off your prey…” (Rob)

　I couldn’t understand his explanation even as I clearly listen to him.

“The prey can be anything small. If you find something, will you let me do it? I want you to tell me what’s wrong with how I did it.” (Zack)

“All right. I’m feeling good today, so you can do it as many times as you want.” (Rob)

　After a short break, we continued deeper into the forest.

　After about 20 minutes, we spotted a partridge-like bird foraging on the ground, and Rob motioned for me to go.

　I gave a small nod and approached the quail, which was about 30 meters away.

　As I rake through the grass, I hear a rustling sound of grass rubbing against my ear. The sound startles me more than the quail, and I involuntarily stop moving. I look at the quail and see that it is still unaware of my presence, and it continues to move even lower. As I gradually get closer, the quail raises its head and begins to become alert.

(Is it sensing the echoes coming from the ground rather than the sound of the grass?　Or is the sound of this grass being moved through no good? Let’s just get as close as we can.) (Zack)

　I was willing to let this quail get away from me. I was going to try to minimize my attacks in order to test how close I could get to it.

　I cautiously took five minutes to get within ten meters of it. The quail had not noticed me yet, but it seemed to sense something was wrong, so it stopped looking for food and kept looking around.

(It must be sensing my presence. Maybe it is assessing the direction in which it should flee. It’s about time…) (Zack)

　I quietly cast [Swallow Cutter] and release it quietly just as the quail turns to face the other side of me.

　The swallows silently slip through the grass.

　The quail finally noticed my attack and flapped its wings in a panic, but as it stretched out, it was decapitated by the magical swallow.

　Behind me, I heard Rob’s voice say, “Master Zack, you’ve done well.

　Again I failed to notice Rob’s approach. I was so focused on the quail that I didn’t pay attention to what was going on around me.

　I was more shocked by Rob’s approach than elated by my quail kill, but I picked up the quail and handed it to Rob.

“You’re walking is a little slow, but it’s not bad. It’s enough if you can do this within the day.” (Rob)

　Rob and his team then succeeded in killing a high perching wood grouse, although a rabbit with a good ear escaped.

　Rob and his team also killed one more fox.

　We crossed Black Pond listening to the 4:00 p.m. bell, and the day’s hunt was over.

　I returned to the house with a quail and a wood grouse that I had killed myself.

(Detection and Stealth are learned through experience, I suppose. Strictly speaking, there must be a theory to learn, but there is no place that teaches such theories unless it is a training institute for assassins.) (Zack)

　The next day, in addition to sword training and accompanying me on forest scouting, hunting with Rob and the others was added to my training menu.

　While teaching his son Davy, Rob also taught me useful skills such as setting traps, animal behaviors, and even how to drain blood.

　My skills in Detection, Stealth, and Trapping improved quickly.

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