But he took the same purpose.

He was to go north. To become the same as the northwind. To always travel north and he stroked out of the inlet and turned east to start in that direction. But late in the day a wind had come up, out of the northwest so that he was paddling into the wind, and the moon-currents took him slightly back until it seemed that no matter how hard and fast he paddled he was almost going backwards.

It became clear that with nature against him he could not move forwards very well, and he went into the next inlet to the east that presented itself to wait out the wind and current.

This inlet was more a deep canyon, with steep sides, that went in a long way and ended in a slightly curved, narrow stone-ledged outlet. A stream cut across the side of it and spilled into the sea. It did not have a gravelly fan to its front but as he drew closer he could see salmon pushing up into the rapids that flowed over a rocky edge. They were not in a full run, thick together with backs nearly touching, but certainly enough to allow him to take some and fill his cavernous-feeling gut. Here and there in the brush that led up and away from the steep-sided stream there were blackberry bushes. Although not as numerous as the ones he had worked before, the deep colour of the berries hanging in the brush – added to the sight of the salmon nosing at the stream outlet – made him almost weak with hunger.

No bears. He could see no bears nor sign, even old sign.

Still, bears were potentially everywhere, both black and the giant brown bears. And because of the inlet’s layout, if he tied off to the brush and went in any distance, he could be caught dead-cold away from escape.

It was of course possible a bear would not hurt him – as had happened with the black bear he had come face-to-face with in the berry patch earlier – but it was not something he wanted to chance and if it did happen to turn sour . . .

He needed a way to get in and get out quickly. Grab and run, he thought, and in the same moment he realized he didn’t have to leave the canoe. He could come in on top of the salmon trying to swim up into the creek, work over the side with the spear until he had several in the boat, then paddle out of the inlet to find a more deserted, small – bear-free – island to make a fire and eat and smoke fish and sleep.

Which is exactly, or nearly exactly, how it worked, or could have worked . . .