Chapter 624 Dholes Devour Their Own Kind

It is a widely accepted fact that felines are more formidable fighters than canines.

However, canines have one trait that makes them terrifying: they hold grudges.

Jackals, wolves, foxes—each one more vengeful than the last.

The last time Zhao Jun had seen jackals, he went home and told Zhao Youcai about it, who in turn told him a story about a wolf pack besieging a village.

And jackals were even more vengeful than wolves. Their sense of smell was also sharper; they could catch a scent from over three miles away upwind and track it down.

Zhao Jun and Li Baoyu’s Dog Gang was quite strong now, but even so, their big fight with the seven jackals had left six dogs wounded. If Zhao Jun hadn’t arrived in time, more dogs would have been hurt, and their injuries could have been much worse.

This happened even when the Dog Gang was at its peak. If the pack ever weakened and those jackals came looking for them again, it would be a disaster.

That’s why Zhao Jun wanted to give chase again. Even if he couldn’t kill all five remaining jackals, he had to injure them as much as possible.

When Li Baoyu heard Zhao Jun was going after the five jackals, his first instinct was to go with him. But after a glance at the listless Hua Lang, Li Baoyu pulled a lunchbox from his pocket instead.

It contained the steamed buns Wang Meilan had packed for them that morning. They were originally in Jie Chen’s bag, but Jie Chen had left his satchel in the vehicle when they went to check the snares.

Later, when Zhao Jun and Li Baoyu decided to head deeper into the mountains, Zhao Jun told Li Baoyu to pack the food and bring it along.

Now that Li Baoyu was heading home, the rations ended up back with Zhao Jun.

Then, Li Baoyu left, taking the six injured dogs and Cyan Dragon with him.

Da Huang, Xiaohua, and Hua Lang left as soon as Li Baoyu called. Little Bear, San Pang, Cyan Dragon, and Black Dragon, however, refused to leave Zhao Jun’s side.

Zhao Jun had no choice but to force them back, making them go home with Li Baoyu.

Once Li Baoyu had departed with most of the hunting dogs, Zhao Jun was left with only Black Tiger, Big Fatty, White Dragon, and Flower Cat.

Zhao Jun led them down into a ravine and up the opposite ridge. He didn’t go far up the slope before calling the four dogs to his side.

Then, in front of a large linden tree, Zhao Jun sat down with his back against the trunk and pulled the aluminum lunchbox from his satchel.

Opening the lunchbox, Zhao Jun took out a steamed bun, broke it up, and divided it among the four dogs.

He hadn’t brought any cornmeal cakes today, so the steamed buns would have to do for the dogs.

One bun was definitely not enough for four dogs. Zhao Jun was quite generous, though, and ended up breaking apart four buns to feed them.

Then, he ate three buns himself with some strips of pickled vegetables, saving the last one in his pocket just in case.

After finishing lunch, Zhao Jun wasn’t in a hurry to get back on the trail. He cradled his gun, leaned against the large tree, and closed his eyes. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep. As he slept, Black Tiger and the other three dogs rested at his feet.

Zhao Jun wasn’t being reckless. For one, he needed to rest and conserve his energy.

Second, when dealing with gut-shot prey, the more the hunters pursued it, the more energetically it would run, and the farther it would get.

But if the pursuit stopped, the wounded animal wouldn’t run far before finding a place to lie down.

And once it lay down, getting back up would be incredibly difficult.

While Zhao Jun slept, nearly thirteen miles to the southeast, the pack of dogs led by Xue Limin flushed a massive wild boar from under a large Korean pine.

This huge boar weighed over four hundred pounds. A scorched Steel Wire Rope dangled from its neck, and half an Invasion Blade was embedded in its rump.

But despite all that, it was still full of vigor.

The boar scrambled to its feet and bolted north.

If it ran just over a third of a mile, it would run right into the ambush point where Xue Baojun was waiting.

But it didn’t get far. After about a hundred yards, it plunged into a thicket of thorny bushes.

Just as Zhao Youcai had said, this part of the mountain was full of thorny bushes and briars, terrain that greatly favored a wild boar. The clever animal had chosen its own battlefield.

Dogs would only get gored by the finger-thick thorns if they charged in. The boar, however, could still plow right through.

In just a few short minutes, before Xue Limin could even reach the spot, he saw his pack of dogs returning.

Of course, not all six dogs came back. Only four returned; the other two were unaccounted for.

A sense of dread washed over Xue Limin, and he rushed toward the thicket.

He covered the four hundred meters quickly, but by the time he arrived, one of the dogs was already dead, and the other was on its last breath.

Xue Limin went closer and saw that one dog’s throat had been gored open, and blood had sprayed all over the ground.

The other dog had been disemboweled.

Normally, a dog with such an injury could definitely be saved with proper care. But as this one had moved, its trailing intestines snagged on a thorny branch. When the dog pulled forward, it had actually torn its own guts.

There was no saving it now.

Besides these two, the other four dogs were also wounded to varying degrees; otherwise, they wouldn’t have retreated.

Xue Limin now faced two problems: he had to save his dogs, and he had to find out where the boar had gone.

Xue Limin made a snap decision. He raised his gun to the sky and fired three shots.

Hearing the shots, Xue Baojun, Liu Jinyong, and Hong Yuntao, who were all nearby, rushed to rendezvous with him.

On his way over, Xue Baojun noticed a stir in the woods nearby. But it was too far, and his view was obscured by branches and leaves. Unable to get a clear look, he fired a shot in its general direction.

When the father and son finally met up and Xue Baojun saw the dead dogs, he knew the situation was dire.

This boar had been cornered by dogs and shot at before, yet it had escaped every time. In hunter’s parlance, it was an animal that had slipped both dogs and guns.

It also bore a wound from a Steel Wire Rope snare and the gash from Niu Guoliang’s blade in its rump. An injured boar like this would be exceptionally wary of the slightest disturbance.

A boar like this would be incredibly difficult to hunt.

But Xue Baojun refused to give up. He asked Liu Jinyong and Hong Yuntao to help Xue Limin take the wounded dogs back to the New Logging Camp for treatment.

As for Xue Baojun, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and set off alone to track the boar.

His pursuit confirmed Zhao Youcai’s earlier prediction: the boar ran north for over half a mile, then descended the slope, crossed the Wood Transport Route, and climbed the hillside on the other side.

Then, it vanished into the forest.

Back in the area around Zhao Jun’s family home, the leaves didn’t fall until the end of September.

The foliage wasn’t as thick as it was in summer, but it was still enough to obstruct a hunter’s line of sight.

Xue Baojun followed the boar’s trail but saw no sign of it. Following the route Zhao Youcai had laid out, he made a large loop that eventually brought him right back to the older man, all to no avail.

Zhao Youcai was taken aback when he first saw Xue Baojun.

He had heard Xue Limin’s gunshots earlier, but he hadn’t expected this outcome. He’d assumed the three shots meant either Xue Baojun or Xue Limin had killed the boar.

Now, after listening to what Xue Baojun had to say, Zhao Youcai fell into deep thought.

He, too, knew this boar would be a difficult hunt.

And even if it could be done, it wouldn’t be for a mere two hundred yuan.

Especially with no snow on the ground, an animal could pass by without leaving tracks. Trying to trail it with men alone, without dogs, was incredibly difficult.

“Youcai,” Xue Baojun pleaded with Zhao Youcai, “everyone says your son is an amazing hunter. Why don’t you get him to come and help me?”

Xue Baojun said this without any ulterior motive; he just wanted to avenge his nephew.

But as soon as Xue Baojun finished speaking, Wang Qiang quietly tugged on Zhao Youcai’s sleeve. Although Wang Qiang didn’t hunt with dogs, he knew that in this kind of terrain, it would be a waste of time even if Zhao Jun brought his pack.

They’d end up with nothing but injured hounds.

But before Wang Qiang could say a word, Zhao Youcai refused. “Bao Jun,” he said, “my son can’t make it. He’s out hunting specimens for the Forest Farm.”

“What? Hunting specimens now?” Xue Baojun had also worked at the Forest Farm, so of course he knew specimens were always hunted in the winter, before New Year’s Day.

He’d never heard of anyone hunting for specimens at this time of year.

Zhao Youcai patiently explained the situation to him, not wanting any misunderstanding to grow between old friends.

After hearing Zhao Youcai’s explanation, Xue Baojun accepted it and couldn’t help but remark, “I figured that after we left, the job of hunting specimens for the Forest Farm would fall to you. I never expected your son would become so skilled.”

A shadow crossed Zhao Youcai’s face at Xue Baojun’s words, but he didn’t bicker with his old friend. He simply joined Xue Baojun and Wang Qiang, and together they shouldered their rifles and resumed circling, searching for the boar.

Meanwhile, Zhao Jun, the subject of so much discussion that morning, finally woke up.

He opened his eyes, touched his burning ears, then picked up his rifle, slung it over his shoulder, and stretched lazily.

The moment Zhao Jun moved, all four dogs scrambled to their feet, their tails wagging as they looked up at him.

Without a word, Zhao Jun held his rifle and started following the blood trail.

He hadn’t gone far before he raised his rifle and fired a shot into the air.

This was to scare off any other beasts along the path, ensuring the four dogs wouldn’t be distracted.

In other words, Zhao Jun was only hunting this pack of jackals today. He would ignore any other prey, no matter what it was.

After another four or five hundred meters, Zhao Jun raised his rifle and fired again.

The shot echoed through the surrounding mountains, and the wildlife within took cover.

Zhao Jun pressed on. His pursuit of the Jackal Pack was different from Zhao Youcai’s group tracking the boar.

Zhao Youcai’s group was tracking the boar without so much as a footprint to guide them; it was a completely blind pursuit.

Zhao Jun, on the other hand, could see a clear trail of blood on the grass and low-hanging branches.

The blood had already turned from bright red to black—a sign of a grievous wound.

Even so, Zhao Jun maintained a steady pace. But suddenly, Black Tiger and the other three dogs bolted ahead.

Zhao Jun quickly raised his rifle and broke into a run.

He hadn’t run far when he saw them: Black Tiger, Big Fatty, White Dragon, and Flower Cat were gathered around the base of a tree, circling something on the ground.

Zhao Jun drew closer and saw a dead jackal lying beneath the tree. Its abdomen and hindquarters had been torn open. Its internal organs and all the soft flesh from its belly and rump had been completely devoured.

This was definitely not the work of Black Tiger and his dogs. Zhao Jun knew at once: the Jackal Pack had eaten the one Li Baoyu had wounded.

‘These bastards are ruthless, eating their own wounded companion.’

But Zhao Jun felt no great emotion, merely casting his gaze ahead.

‘Four left.’