Brian’s Hunt (A Hatchet Adventure) Paperback – March 13, 2012 by Gary Paulsen

Description

Author: Paulsen Gary

Brand: Ember

Color: Multicolor

Edition: Reprint

Features:

• Ember

Package Dimensions: 20x208x140

Number Of Pages: 144

Release Date: 13-03-2012

Details: Product Description
Brian sets out on the hunt of a lifetime in this follow-up to the award-winning classic Hatchet from three-time Newbery Honor-winning author Gary Paulsen!

Brian Robeson has stood up to the challenge of surviving the wilderness in
Hatchet, The River, Brian’s Winter, and
Brian’s Return. Now, while camping alone on a lake in the woods, he finds a wounded and whimpering dog. As Brian treats her wounds, he worries about who or what did this to her. His instincts tell him to head north, quickly, to check on his Cree friends. With his new companion at his side, he sets out on the hunt.

Gary Paulsen expertly delivers a riveting story that brilliantly combines two of his great themes: the human animal’s place in nature, and the mysterious and wonderful bond between humans and dogs.

“The Brian books reveal nature and humankind’s place in it with spare prose that seems ideally suited to the setting and plot.” —
VOYA

“Based on real incidents, this well-written sequel to Hatchet and its successors will be gobbled up by the author’s legions of fans.” —
Kirkus Reviews

Read all the Hatchet Adventures!

Brian’s Winter The River Brian’s Return Brian’s Hunt
About the Author
GARY PAULSEN is the distinguished author of many critically acclaimed books for young people. His most recent books are
Flat Broke; Liar, Liar; Masters of Disaster; Lawn Boy Returns; Woods Runner; Notes from the Dog; Mudshark; Lawn Boy; Molly McGinty Has a Really Good Day; The Time Hackers; and
The Amazing Life of Birds (The Twenty Day Puberty Journal of Duane Homer Leech).
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1

He was in his world again. He was back.

It was high summer coming to fall and Brian was back in the far reaches of wilderness–or as he thought of it now, home. He had his canoe and bow and matches and this time he’d added some dried food, beans and rice and sugar. He also had a small container of tea, which he’d come to enjoy. He had a small cook set, and a can to make little fires in the middle of the canoe; he put leaves on to make smoke to drive the flies and gnats and mosquitoes away. He had some salt and pepper and, almost a treat, matches. He still could not get over how wonderful it was to just be able to make a fire when he wanted one, and he never sat down to a cook fire without smiling and remembering when his life in the wilderness had begun. His first time alone.

He dreamt of it often and at first his dreams sometimes had the qualities of nightmares. He dreamt he was sitting there in the small plane, the only passenger, with the pilot dying and the plane crashing into the lake below. He awakened sometimes with sudden fear, his breath coming fast. The crash itself had been so wild and he had been so out of control that the more he had grown in the years since, the more he had learned and handled difficult situations, the more insane the crash seemed; a wild, careening, ripping ride down through trees to end not in peace but in the water, nearly drowning–in the nightmares it was like dying and then not dying to die again.

But the bad dreams were rare, rarer all the time, and when he had them at all now they were in the nature of fond memories of his first months alone in the bush, or even full-blown humor: the skunk that had moved in with him and kept the bear away; how Brian had eaten too many gut berries, which he’d later found were really called chokecherries (a great name, he thought); a chickadee that had once landed on his knee to take food from his hand.

He had been . . . young then, more than two years ago. He was still young by most standards, just sixteen. But he was more seasoned now and back then he had acted young–no, that wasn’t quite it either. New. He had been new then and now he was perhaps not so new.

He paused in his thinking and let the outside world come into his open mind. East edge of a small lake, midday, there would be small fish in