The Siberian Dilemma

by Martin Cruz Smith

  “And if any one of us scores a kill,” said Benz, “fire two shots into the air to let the others know. Our goal is to fly out of here by nightfall. With five pairs of hands, that should give us plenty of time to dress a bear.”

  “Four pairs of hands. I’m having nothing to do with it,” Tatiana said.

  “What if we don’t find one by then?” Arkady asked.

  “That’s simple. If you’re willing, we can stay overnight. But first things first. An extra outhouse is over there by the blue beacon. Carry a flashlight and rifle at all times, even if you don’t think you need one. It will make us all feel better. You, too, Tatiana,” Benz said. “Remember, a bear can run faster than you can, and where there’s one, there may be two or, more dangerous, there may be cubs. Either way, if you wound it, you kill it.”

  “You could set a trap for it,” Georgy said.

  Benz laughed. “We’re not here to fucking trap bears; we’re here to hunt them.”

  “Somebody will be up to replace me, right?” Georgy asked Benz. “My ass has been sitting on that stove for the last six months. And it’s just getting colder and darker.”

  * * *

  As they started out, Arkady and Bolot headed in one direction, while Benz and Georgy headed in another.

  “I want to take a look at that rig we passed. Any objections?” Arkady asked.

  “As long as we get to the bear before they do.”

  It took half an hour to make their way through the snow before they reached the broken rig. Snowshoe prints packed the snow around it. A drill pipe lay on the floor. Arkady and Bolot dug around the hole to reveal a cap of cement.

  “This had to be a group effort,” Arkady said.

  “Why can’t they just drill the cement out and replace the oil pipe?” Bolot asked.

  “I think it would be impossible to drill out twenty feet of cement.”

  “Okay, shall we go? According to my compass, north is that way.” Bolot pointed to the darkness of deep woods. “Look for scratches on trees. They love stretching and clawing; they’re like cats that way.” Bolot spoke with authority. “In lean years bears hibernate in haystacks or fallen trees. When hungry, they’re alert to anything passing by. Then there are ‘rovers’: bears that keep searching for a place to hibernate. And the female bears have their cubs in these caves. They let them out for periods of time in the spring before herding them back into the cave.”

  “Good mothers.”

  They had been snowshoeing for an hour and Arkady was out of breath.

  They trudged on until they heard a rifle shot. Then two more in quick succession.

  “There’s our signal. Benz must have found something,” Arkady said.

  They moved in the direction of the sound and saw Benz and Georgy standing over the body of a deer.

  “I thought we were bear hunting,” Bolot said.

  “My instincts took over,” Georgy said. “Hard to pass up fresh meat.”

  “How much time do you want to spend dressing it and hauling it back?” Bolot asked.

  “It won’t take long,” Georgy said.

  “Why don’t we leave it for a hungry bear to find?” Benz asked.

  “I have a better idea,” Georgy said. “Let’s cut it up, take some of it back to the cabin, and leave some here. That way we’ll be able to find tracks in the morning if it doesn’t snow in the meantime.”

  “What’s to prevent another animal from eating it?” Arkady asked.

  “I brought along bags that are supposed to keep animals from smelling food,” Georgy said.

  “It might work for other animals but not for bears,” said Bolot. “Their sense of smell is unbelievable, at least a thousand times better than ours. They can smell a carcass from twenty kilometers away.”

  The four men skinned and cut up the deer, leaving a major part of the carcass in two of the food bags. They stuffed the other two with meat to take back.

  “Well, we won’t have to worry about food for a while,” Benz said. “We have to take this back to the food bin. Otherwise we’ll have more than one bear following us.”

  “I already have the sense that someone or something has been following us,” Georgy said.

  “I didn’t see any other footprints on the way,” Benz said. “Let’s go.”

  They turned to walk back.

  “You’ve shot a bear, haven’t you?” Arkady asked Bolot. He touched the bear’s tooth that hung on a leather thong around his neck. “Is this the real thing?”

  “Yes, it’s the real thing,” said Bolot.

  “How did you come by it?” asked Benz.

  “When we were kids, about fifteen or sixteen, my brother and I went to hunt a bear that had been stealing food from our village. We told our parents we were going, and of course they told us not to. They thought if they hid the rifles, we wouldn’t dare go. We took wooden spears with sharpened tips to hunt the bear and drank a little vodka for courage. We approached the bear’s cave. One bear came out, then two. We thought we were dead. Nobody believed it when we dragged two dead bears into the village. Your amulet comes from one of those bears.”

  “I’m honored.”

  “In the Buryat culture there’s a whole ceremony with a shaman and much fanfare in praise of the bear and the hunter. It’s serious business,” said Benz.

  “We feasted for days and smeared ourselves with the fat from the bear,” said Bolot. “We felt like bears. Strong and fearless.”

  The sun was straight overhead, and as they neared the cabin, they saw large paw prints overlap the prints left by Georgy and Benz.

  “I think you were right, Georgy,” Arkady said. “You were followed by a bear. I wonder where it went.”

  They all stopped and searched for more prints.

  “The cabin,” Arkady said. He lurched ahead, running as fast as snowshoes would permit.

  The lean-to over the bear box had been torn apart and thrown aside. The food box itself was overturned, which was almost impossible, since it weighed at least a hundred kilos and was bolted to the ground. So far, no blood.

  “Tatiana!” Arkady yelled. He opened the door of the cabin to what appeared to be an empty room. From the corner he heard a sound. He pulled the couch out, pried an iron skillet from Tatiana’s hand, and lifted her up. She clung to him, her face buried in his neck.

  “She okay?” Bolot asked.

  “She’s okay,” Arkady said. Anger and relief overwhelmed him. Why had he allowed her to come up here?

  “It was huge, bigger than any bear in the zoo,” Tatiana said as Arkady helped her onto the couch.

  “You saw him?” Arkady asked.

  “When the crashing began, I peeked out the window. He was furious. I was sure he would break into the house, because he wasn’t getting anywhere with the bear bin. He must have stopped because he heard you.”

  “You didn’t want to use your rifle?” Benz asked.

  “I wasn’t thinking. I grabbed what was there.” She laughed.

  Benz sat on the couch next to Tatiana. “I know we planned to stay just one day, but we’ve laid a trap for the bear. Do you feel you can stand being here one night? We should be able to follow his trail in the morning.”

  “Yes, of course I can.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” Arkady said.

  “Or I’ll come with you,” Tatiana said.

  “Is it too early for dinner?” Georgy asked. “Or maybe we should try to pull up the bear box and bolt it more firmly to the ground.”

  “How about pouring cement over the bolts?” Bolot asked.

  “Not a bad idea,” Benz said. “If we can find cement.”

  The three men left and Arkady moved next to Tatiana. She leaned against him and closed her eyes.

  27

  The next morning Benz and Georgy pushed through the snow as Tatiana followed at a slower pace with Bolot ahead of her and Arkady behind her.

  “What have you got in that second backpack?” she asked Bolot.

  “
In one I have food and extra clothes for the expedition, and in the second I have emergency gear.”

  “Like what?”

  “I have one knife and a whetstone for cutting up a bear. Then there’s a handsaw, leather thongs, and game bags.”

  “What are you expecting to happen?” Tatiana asked.

  “Remember,” said Arkady, “Napoleon lost Russia because he didn’t bring along enough supplies.”

  “I notice you brought a pencil and pad. Your supplies?” Bolot asked Tatiana.

  “And a pencil sharpener.”

  “You expect to do some writing?” Bolot asked.

  “I hope to,” she said.

  Conversation came to a halt as they approached what was left of the deer. The bear had, as Georgy predicted, ripped open the food bag and dragged the carcass into the woods. Benz, Georgy, and Bolot followed the bloody trail. Arkady and Tatiana trekked one behind the other through dense woods, sometimes losing sight of the men ahead.

  They had just caught up to Benz and Georgy when nine hundred pounds of ferocity came barreling through the trees. The men raised their rifles, took aim, and shot. A regular firing squad, Arkady thought. Though badly wounded, the bear continued to hurl himself at them through the snow. Benz moved fifty feet around him for a better angle and aimed at the ruff of his neck. The bear finally dropped.

  They stood in awe around the immensity of the bear’s body sprawled in front of them.

  “My God,” said Arkady.

  “You mean, ‘My Bear,’ ” said Benz. “Tatiana, do you think this is the same bear you saw at the cabin?”

  “Has to be,” she said.

  Benz was obviously elated that he had fired the winning shot, maybe a record shot. He took a tape measure from his backpack and, giving Georgy one end at the bear’s short tail, paced the distance from head to toe.

  “This bear is nine meters long. That’s a hell of a big bear,” Benz said. “Too big to carry back.”

  “Let’s just take the head as a trophy,” Georgy said. “We already have enough venison in the bin to feed a family for the rest of the winter.”

  “Isn’t that contrary to the hunter’s code?” Tatiana asked.

  Georgy gave her a disdainful look.

  “You might not want to carry back the meat,” Bolot said, “but there are others who live around here who will be happy for it.”

  “Who lives around here?” Tatiana asked.

  “You may not see them, but they’re here,” Bolot said.

  “I’m going back to the cabin with Georgy,” Benz said. “If you want to look out for the natives here, that’s your business. But don’t take too long.”

  “I don’t think we should split up,” Arkady said.

  “Why? What are you afraid of?” Georgy asked.

  “Not afraid; just too many nasty surprises happen up here.”

  “Forget that,” Georgy said. He borrowed Bolot’s handsaw and set to work quickly separating the bear’s head from its body and bagging it.

  “We’ll have a fire going for you when you return,” said Benz. “Remember, we want to fly out tonight. It’s one o’clock now. Do you think you can make it back by three?”

  “At least by then,” Bolot said.

  The two men disappeared into the woods.

  Meanwhile, Bolot knelt next to the bear. “There’s a quick and easy way to do this. By just cutting out the muscle from outside the ribs, we don’t have to deal with intestines and all the organs.”

  Tatiana pitched in with Arkady and Bolot in rolling the bear onto its side. With a broad razor-sharp blade, Bolot made a slit from the sternum to the groin and cut through the hide from the inside of the right front leg and from the inside of the right back leg. Together they pulled the hide back to the spine, exposing the flesh from one whole side of the bear’s body. Bolot cut off the muscle meat. He handed the pieces to Arkady and Tatiana, who swiped them with snow before putting them into one of Bolot’s bags. They rolled the bear to its other side and Bolot again cut the hide from inside the left front and back legs, and together they pulled it back to expose the muscle from the other side. The meat filled another large bag.

  “Do we want to keep the hide?” Bolot asked.

  “I don’t see how,” Arkady said. “We have too much to carry as it is.”

  “We can make a sled with branches,” Bolot said, “like a troika, but we’re the horses. Then we can cover the branches with the hide.”

  Arkady appreciated the way Bolot was able to turn obstacles into solutions.

  “You’re a very handy man to have around.”

  Bolot grinned. “People tell me so.”

  They found three strong branches thick with smaller branches and pine needles, cut off smaller branches from the ends, and lashed the branch ends together with the leather straps that Bolot carried in his backpack. They laid the hide on top so nothing could fall through. Now they had a sled, Russian-style.

  Arkady grabbed one of the three branches and together with Bolot they heaved it over rough terrain. Tatiana followed.

  Finally, enough snow began to fall to smooth the passage of the sled through the woods.

  Bolot’s relief was obvious. “See, this is what they should have had for the talent portion of the beauty pageant: a Buryat woman making a sled and pulling it across a snow-covered stage.”

  “No,” said Arkady. “It should have been a beautiful Venus in a bearskin pulling a two-hundred-pound man on a sled.”

  Tatiana couldn’t help but laugh, then stopped.

  Two bodies lay in puddles of blood and snow, their faces covered with white ice crystals. The bear head had rolled five feet away.

  Horror descended on them. Tatiana and Bolot stepped back in disbelief.

  Arkady pressed his fingers against Benz’s carotid artery. “No pulse. There won’t be any fingerprints, but we know it wasn’t an animal that killed them. They were shot from a distance.”

  “Who?” Tatiana asked.

  “Good question,” said Arkady. He looked at the snowshoe prints surrounding the body. He walked in a circle around them.

  “I see a number of tracks, but I don’t think there was any struggle. Benz and Georgy had rifles they could have used, so it must have happened all at once. Their backpacks and their guns have been taken. Bolot, will you take Tatiana back to the cabin? I want to follow these snowshoe tracks before they disappear under more snow.”

  “How do we know the killers aren’t back at the cabin?” Tatiana asked.

  “There’s a logic to what she says,” Bolot said.

  “Leave the sled,” Arkady said. “We’ll stay together and follow the tracks, but we have to move quickly.”

  They began following the snowshoe prints, which became fainter as snow continued to fall. Bolot ran ahead and out of sight. Within minutes he reappeared at the top of a ridge pointing to smoke billowing into dark clouds.

  “The cabin,” said Tatiana.

  Arkady waved Bolot back. “Could you tell if the snowcat was still up there?”

  “I didn’t see it.”

  “Okay, let’s head for the helipad.”

  This time Bolot handed Arkady one of his two backpacks and ran in the direction of the helipad.

  Arkady held on to Tatiana’s arm as they followed. They had been trekking since dawn and she could no longer lift her snowshoes without catching snow on them and falling.

  The first thing they saw as they came out of the woods was that the helicopter was gone but the snowcat was there. Bolot was poking around in its engine.

  “Someone must have driven it down from the cabin and taken the keys with them. The carburetor is gone too,” he said.

  Arkady looked at his watch. “It’s going to get dark soon. We have to find shelter before nightfall or we’ll freeze to death. I don’t think Tatiana can walk another step.”

  “Bear meat. I’m going back for the sled,” said Bolot. “Then I’ll check to see if anything’s left of the cabin.”

&nb
sp; “Do you happen to have any extra clothing in that second backpack?” Arkady asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Do you mind giving it to Tatiana?”

  “Not at all.” Bolot pulled out a fluorescent orange hoodie. “And you have matches?”

  “I have a lighter. Any extra sandwiches?”

  “In here.” Bolot tossed him his other backpack and left.

  Arkady led Tatiana to the cab of the snowcat and bundled her up in Bolot’s orange sweatshirt.

  They sat in silence. The immensity of Boris Benz’s death was only now sinking in. It was impossible to believe he was dead because, despite his faults, he was a man who was bright and damnably charming.

  “Would a bear attack us here?” she asked.

  “He would have a hard time getting inside the snowcat, and generally bears go out of their way to avoid humans.”

  “Why did he attack today, then?”

  “He must have been surprised and threatened.”

  “Would a bear attack for a sandwich?”

  “He might try, but we won’t let him get it.” Arkady wrapped his arms around Tatiana and held her close. “Right now I should get out and start building a fire.”

  “You think just being inside together won’t keep us warm?”

  “Not once the sun goes. And we’ll want to cook some of the bear meat when Bolot gets back.” He looked around the snowcat’s interior for anything that might be useful in building a fire and found official-looking papers in the glove compartment.

  “I have notebooks.” Tatiana dug into her backpack.

  He had to laugh. “Great, and the pencils will make good kindling. I’ll bring you back twigs to whittle down with your sharpener. Shavings will help start the fire.”

  Arkady emptied his backpack, hooked that and his rifle over his shoulder, and stepped out of the truck to a blast of cold air. He looked for dead trees and bushes that had not fallen into the snow and, using Bolot’s knife and handsaw, cut branches and twigs from them and placed them in his pack. From fir trees he cut pinecones and low, small dead branches that were shielded by the bigger ones above and had not yet touched snow on the ground. He rushed to the snowcat, where Tatiana set to work with her pencil sharpener.