Never Cry Wolf

I just jumped at the opportunity to go,

without even thinking about it, really,

because it opened the way to an old and very naive childhood fantasy of mine.

To go off into the wilderness

and test myself against all the dangerous things lurking there.

And to find that basic animal I secretly hoped was hidden somewhere in myself.

I imagined that at that point I'd become a new man,

with a strength and courage that I'd never known before.

As I traveled north, it was on about the third day

that the reality of what I was about to try to do began to seep into my bones

and gather in a knot in the pit of my stomach.

Then [finally reached the end of the line, Nootsack.

The sheer bulk of the supplies the department sent along set me back,

as I had to get not only myself but all this stuff

another 300 miles into the wilderness.

So. You think north of here?

The place is crawling with 'em.

But you wouldn't wanna go up there. Son.

Got nothing to eat up there now.

There's nothing but ice and snow and trees and...

You would be the only fresh meat around there.

They'll come after you. Son.

Just for the ugly fun of tearing you apart.

I'd heard some of the tales about the Arctic,

The mad trappers, Diamond Tooth Gertie, the ice-worm cocktail and all that,

so I was prepared for things to be a little weird.

You found the bayonets. I knew you would.

Shame.

That's much better. Much better, Francis. Keep practicing.

The only plane in Nootsack belonged to a part-time bush pilot,

gambler and real-estate tycoon named Rosie Little.

While negotiating our deal, he introduced me to this drink that he'd invented.

Known locally as Moose Juice,

it consisted of equal parts Moose Brand beer and ethyl alcohol.

Before I knew it, my old fear of flying evaporated,

and I spent all the money I had left on 24 cases of beer.

Too much weight, Tyler.

Hang on

Whoa... Nelly!

Come on. Something else out of there now. The big, heavy ones, Tyler.

I really had no way of knowing exactly what of the department's gear

we donated to the people of Nootsack.

That big wooden box there. Get rid of it. Go on. You don't need that.

But by our third attempt at takeoff, it was a lot of what I might really need.

I tried not to think about it. In fact, I tried not to think at all.

This one is it. I can feel it.

With my eyes still shut, I realized that I was still alive.

But this was only the beginning.

It's funny how I keep thinking back to that going-away party.

All the toasts by Dr Spivey and Dr Showwalter,

and everybody singing old Johnny Horton songs.

And the cake with all the coconut frosting, with the plastic snowshoes on top.

But, then, why me?

Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.

Maybe my name just somehow got onto the wrong page.

It might have been a typo, or maybe somebody spilled a cup of coffee,

shuffled a couple of pages, and there I was.

I can't go on with this. This is suicide.

But I can't turn around now. I'd be a laughing stock.

Still, I wouldn't last six hours down there, let alone six months.

Uh...

How do you...?

Don't worry about a thing.

I feel my way through these mountains blindfolded all the time.

Tell me, Tyler...

what's in the Valley of the Blackstone?

What is it? Manganese?

Can't be oil.

Is it gold?

It's kind of hard to say.

You're a smart man, Tyler. Keep your own counsel.

We're all of us prospectors up here, eh, Tyler?

Scratching for that one crack in the ground

so we'll never have to scratch again.

I'll let you in on a little secret, Tyler.

The gold's not in the ground.

The gold's not anywhere up here.

The real gold is south of 60.

Sittin' in living rooms, stuck facing the boob tube, bored to death.

Bored to death, Tyler!

Ah.

What was that?

Oh. Lord!

Darn!

- What's wrong? - Take the stick.

Arrrrgh!

What's wrong?

Boredom, Tyler.

Boredom, that's what's wrong.

And how do you beat boredom, Tyler?

Adventure.

Adventure, Tyler.

Where are you going? Rosie!

Rosie. What are you doing? I can't fly this thing. What do I do?

Catch the updraft there, Tyler. That's it.

Right in the middle. Good.

- Oh! - Ah!

Tyler, easy, easy, easy!

- Back the other way! Turn it the other way! - What?

Tyler, back. Tyler! Tyler!

Easy! Tyler!

The other way. That's it.

That's it. Good, Tyler.

That's it. You learn fast.

Whoo!

Rosie. It's freezing.

Keep moving, Tyler. Gotta keep moving.

- You'll be fine. - Gotta take it easy with some of this stuff.

Oh. Uh...

Mind your toes!

Speed. Speed is of the essence, Tyler.

Especially when you don't know how much fuel you got.

You got any last messages for the world, Tyler. You better let me have 'em now.

That's sneaky, Tyler. Very sneaky.

Wait. Rosie! Rosie!

- Rosie. - What?

Hey?

Remember my position. Will you?

Sure. I'll stop by for a drink sometime. Huh?

Rosie! Rosie!

What?

- What is my position? - It beats the hell out of me, Tyler.

I just hope I can find my way home.

Good luck, Tyler.

Yeah.

Well, interesting.

Now, what are the possibilities here?

The possibilities...

are many.

Gotta stay rational, be objective and...

plan out all the proper procedures before doing anything else.

Make a list of priorities, remembering, of course, to take into account variables,.

And the fact that, inevitably, some problems could arise that...

...inevitably, some problems could arise that are completely unexpected.

Get a grip on yourself.

Section 3C of my instructions reads as follows:

"You will proceed immediately, by means of canoe and utilizing local waterways,

to establish a base camp."

Section 4: "You will note that you have been provided

with the following material requirements."

"Food supplies, sufficient until local sources can be utilized."

"Various appropriate requisition forms, documents and vouchers."

"And all technical equipment pertinent to the completion of the study."

Ooh! Eeh!

Hey!

March 23. 5am.

First report from Project Lupine.

Spent the night in a crate.

At daylight I'll try to get off the ice.

But I'd like to go on record as stating

that those who planned this expedition made significant misc...

...made significant miscalculations,

staggeringly incompetent...

Oh!

Hello.

Uh...

Excuse me. You sort of...

Could you give me a hand with some of this equipment. I wonder?

Ya!

I have a lot of equipment here. I really can't leave it. If you could...

Hello?

Ootek.

Ootek?

Ootek?

There are problems recording the events of the past day or days.

The man has disappeared, although his face remains vivid in my mind.

I've decided to stay here until I get my bearings

and I've sorted out what constitutes reality.

April 1.

Temperatures soaring to 41 degrees Fahrenheit.

For the first time in three days I emerge from my sleeping bag

and begin trying to do my job.

So far I've collected the following specimens:

five baby mice, one millipede

and something that looks suspiciously like fleas.

My instructions are to track down a specimen of Canis lupus,

dispatch it with a rifle and examine the contents of its stomach.

April 16.

Warm days bring a kind of peace and stillness.

If there are any remaining fears,

they stem only from the recognition of my own staggering insignificance.

May 3. In pursuit of phantoms.

I hear them every night, have seen their tracks and collected their scat.

So they must be real.

Agh!

Canis lupus arcticus.

The largest and rarest of the wolf species.

And its den.

The rules of the game are to choose an observation post downwind,

out of the animal's field of vision,

gain your position and maintain it without ever revealing your presence.

Outmaneuvered on all counts, I opt to change the rules.

Reasoning that we're suspicious of what we don't understand,

I decide to reveal as much as possible about myself,

make a display.

I haven't seen the wolf in two days.

I know I was violating the distance principle, moving so far into his territory.

But since he hadn't seemed afraid of me, I hoped that I could...

I didn't take it personally.

This was a matter of principle, a territorial dispute.