Naked in Dangerous Places - Cash Peters [107]
So, against my better judgment, I change my mind and agree to go.
The windshield wipers flap lazily, flicking a confetti of frost into the morning air as the van plows deeper into the flat, featureless wilderness, following the line of a pure white highway barely distinguishable from the land around it or the sky above.
On the approach to Point Barrow, we start filming.
“Do the people here live in mortal terror of polar bears?” I ask Bunna.
“Not mortal terror.” His face is expressionless as usual. “We're just aware of them.”
“We're cautious,” Morgan adds from the back seat. “People don't understand, these guys are filled with nothing but teeth and claws. They're not cuddly, they're not friendly, they're wild. Nature is unpredictable. Some days you can walk right by the bears. Other times you have to run away from them.”
“Oh—look!” Bunna cries out, but quietly because bears startle easily. “I see one!”
Easing off the gas, he allows the van to putter to a stop, clearing condensation off the window with his sleeve. Now, finally, his eyes come alive. There's a current of electricity flowing through his body that wasn't there ten minutes ago. Tracking these bears is way more than a job to him, that much is obvious. He has an affinity for them, is fascinated by every aspect of them—their look, their gait, their habits and behavior—and treasures every second he can spend alone here at the Point, more so than ever right now, now that they're on the fast track to extinction.
“Oh, wow, that's a big one!”
“Where?” A quarter of a mile to our left is the Bone Pile, the bits of excess whale meat and bones that the Eskimos dump here to draw the bears away from the town.
“D'you see it?”
Squinting into the blinding white emptiness, I'm able to pick out an object the color of dog pee.
The longer we look, the more objects appear. Soon there are three. A female and two cubs. They saunter up to the bones and begin chomping, the female gazing around the whole time, looking very nervous.
“Why would they think they're in danger? They're in the middle of nowhere.”
“A mother with cubs always thinks there's danger,” Bunna drops his voice to a cautious whisper. “If she comes across a male, he'll first try to kill the cubs, then he'll impregnate her with his genes. It's survival of the fittest.”
I understand. It's not very different from working in television, really.
“I've always maintained,” I say, “that Nature is just things eating other things.”
“Yeah.” And he adds with a barely perceptible wry smile, “Hopefully it won't be us today.”
Hopefully?
There are two facts about polar bears I didn't know. Actually, plenty of facts, but two really big ones that differentiate them from other animals, in particular raccoons.
First, as well as being one of the most vicious predators on the planet, polar bears happen to be particularly fast on their feet. If they spot you and see you as a threat, they'll quite probably charge after you. And when they move they can reach speeds of up to twenty-five miles per hour. Forty-five if they're on a moped!
Second, don't think you can escape by hiding in your truck. Their claws are can openers; they'll charge the vehicle, tear you a new sunroof, and pick you off one by one inside. You don't stand a chance.
These two facts together have me very nervous indeed. But that's okay, we're due to leave anyway I've seen a polar bear now. Job done. No point hanging around.
“Okay, come on.” Bunna makes a move. Only, instead of firing up the engine, he reaches behind his seat and produces a shotgun. “Get out of the van,” he says, confusing me with MacGyver. “But carefully.”
What???
Fat Kid leads the way, followed by Eric and the others. Mark, displaying not a scintilla of reservation or fear, tiptoes across the ice and sets up his tripod within clear view of the bears, which, more frighteningly, gives the bears