The cast-iron skillet was heating up nicely, resting on a wire grill over a bed of glowing coals. Jake took two thick slices of bacon and laid them in the skillet, enjoying both the sound and smell as the bacon started to sizzle.
“Feels like beer o’clock to me.” For 50 years, Zack had been his fishing buddy and closest friend. Zack dug in the cooler next to his camp chair and came up with two icy cans of PBR. After 10 hours on the water fishing for walleye, they were welcome.
“Where’s Ian? He’s old enough for a beer now, isn’t he?” Ian was Jake’s son. Since he was 27, a military veteran, married and the father of two, he was certainly old enough. Jake replied, “Ian and his friends went to fillet the fish. They seem like a nice enough couple for city folk.”
“What were their names again? Rodney and Pat. They were good company out on the water — never complained — though I doubt Rodney ever fished or camped before.”
The young people came walking up, Ian carrying a bucket of walleye fillets. “You should see this woman fillet fish!” Ian enthused. “Bet they didn’t teach that at law school.” “No, I learned from my dad. He loved hunting, fishing, kayaking, anything outdoors.”
Jake removed the crisp bacon for later use in a salad. He poured some of the bacon grease into a second skillet, one for fish, the other for hash browns. He said, “By the way, we heard bears have been hanging around camp.”
Rodney reacted with considerable interest. “Bears? Grizzly bears?”
Jake laughed, “The nearest grizzly bear is about a thousand miles west of here. We do have lots of black bears. They aren’t as aggressive as grizzlies.”
“But still dangerous, right?”
Zack replied, “They can be. Mostly, they are shy, retiring creatures who run at the first scent of humans. But they are strong, fast, well armed, and they can have bad days. Anyone who says he knows what a bear will do is asking for trouble.”
Ian was setting out plates and cutlery on the picnic table. “I read somewhere a grizzly attacks because you surprised it, threatened its cubs, or offended its dignity. A black bear attacks because it is hungry and intends to eat you.”
Rodney thought this over. “We have our rented camper van, but you guys will be sleeping in a tent. Aren’t you a bit nervous?”
“Not really. We won’t be bringing any bacon in our tent.” Jake gave the hash browns a stir. “Besides, I have this.” He patted the stock of the revolver he wore in a handsomely carved belt holster. “It’s a Colt .44-40, bought new in the ’80s. Here in bear country, I load it with Buffalo Bore ammunition 200-grain hard cast lead bullets at about 950 fps.”
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