In the jungle, scenes like this were quite ordinary. However, Jack suddenly came to a serious stop. Fletcher, who was following behind, asked, “What’s wrong? Did the GPS signal something?” Jack shook his head. “No, it's not the GPS. Besides the usual signs of animal fights, there are traces of human activity. Look at that tree over there; it has cut marks, and so do these animal bones. The wounds from animal attacks are different from those made by sharp blades.”
Jack was an exceptional scout, able to uncover the truth from the subtlest details. The remains seemed to be from a boar, devoured by predators, yet Jack noticed something unusual. Fletcher's heart leapt with hope. “It must be Stuart; he was here.” But as he surveyed the bloodstained ground, his elation gave way to a somber expression.
Jack, wearing gloves, examined the area, then stood up. “Let’s move. Stuart went in that direction. He killed this boar first, and then it was eaten by other animals.” “I wonder how Stuart is doing?” Fletcher mused. “He’s injured, but not seriously, at least not here. Those footprints over there are steady, not the erratic steps of someone fleeing in panic.”
Fletcher nodded, feeling a bit relieved. The pair continued, one familiar with the wilderness and the other with Stuart, both convinced they were on the right path. Yet, their anxiety grew with each step. The wilderness posed immense danger; despite meticulous preparation and teamwork, they had faced numerous perils, both sustaining injuries.
They didn’t doubt Stuart’s survival instincts, but he had left in such haste that he was not fully prepared. After trekking a while longer, Jack halted again. “Why have we stopped? Did you find something else?” Fletcher questioned. “No, it’s getting dark. Traveling through the wilderness at night is too risky. This place has good terrain; we should camp here tonight.”
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