Today was also a misfortune for much different reasons than the 17th. The hunters set out today, as usual. I began checking for frostbite. Nothing was wrong or different at first. I started talking to Lawrence, who stayed back from hunting. He said something odd that I just had to record in here.

  "You fought me so well, you rustled my feathers. You got to show me a little bit of how you fight now. You're obliged," he told me along with several other things I don't remember. I don't stop him on his rants. There is no point. However, I did ask him what he meant when he said "rustled my feathers". I have never heard of this before.

  "Means you made me nervous that I wasn't gonna win yesterday. Yeah?" Lawrence explained. I nodded a little and he kept ranting about fighting.

  That was the exact moment that we heard a rather large commotion in the stretch of trees just a ways from us. We both stood and made our way over there. The suppliers ran ahead of us with a spare rifle. Mosao was told to stay back and watch the supplies and camp in case of an unlikely raid. By the time we arrived, the scouters were already there. There was a group of the boys around someone I couldn't quite see at the moment. For the next several minutes, I fought my way to the front of the group to get an idea as to what happened.

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  I pieced together that there was a hunting accident. Simon's gun hadn't loaded right. He had a mussel, not a regular rifle like the rest of us. He put too much gunpowder in it and he fired. The, bang. Simon was on the ground. I checked his pulse, his breathing, everything I could. Nothing stopped the fact from coming to light.

  Simon is dead.

  He has no pulse, no breath; he is cold. There is nothing that I can do. If there was, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I cannot fathom the death of another. We are officially two men dead. We cannot continue like this. Simon was a good man and an even better hunter. He died doing what I was told he wanted to do for the rest of his life. I have worked all day from that point on. I can no longer write. I am too exhausted.