Read Village E3: Survival of the Human Spirit for Free Online

slicing another thin
hunk from the partially cooled leg. Since waking up on the beach, he couldn't
recall ever having this much food. His stomach couldn't hold as much as it used
to but he continued to eat, bite after bite, long after his stomach let him
know he was full.
    His mind turned to the deer hide. He
wasn't sure what he would do with it, but it was a resource that he couldn't
let go to waste. He had skinned mule deer back in Colorado, but never thought
of keeping the hide. He wasn't exactly sure what to do to save it, but he knew that
he had to get as much flesh off of it as he could.
    He laid the skin, fur side down, on a
flat rock. Holding his knife by the back of the blade, he began to scrape away
any remaining flesh from the skin. He remembered hearing people talk about
doing this and the only advice he could remember was scrape the hide well, and
then salt it. He didn't have any salt. Without salt, this might be a waste
of time, he thought. He continued the tedious job, not knowing if his
effort would be rewarded. Before he was finished his wrist and forearm were
aching. He stuck his knife in the ground, then got up and hung his thoroughly
scraped hide across a limb in the sun.
    Tired, and with a full belly, John
was thinking about calling it a day. He had enough water for the next day, so
there wasn't anything left that he had to get done. Gathering up his knife and
his spear in one hand, and his water container in the other, he managed to grab
his cooking pot with the hand that held his weapons.
    He didn't care that there was
probably an hour or two of sunlight left, it was time for bed. With skillful
carving, many hours of labor, and some sturdy vines, he had crafted a frame
that was about seven feet long, and three feet wide. On it, he had a pile of
leaves, which he changed about once every two weeks. On top of the leaves, he
put his coveralls, for extra padding.
    On some nights, it got cool enough
that he wore the coveralls for a few hours. His main concern was getting up off
the ground, and his rough looking handiwork accomplished that. He placed his
knife and spear in the exact place he put them every night. Next to them, he
kept his bug out bag, which stayed in the hut most of the time now.
    After getting everything situated,
John walked over and secured his door. He hadn't used the door since a week or
so after he'd built it, but tonight he was glad that he had it. Spotting a
small spider slowly crawling across the floor, John squashed it with his bare
foot, without hesitation. It was something he wouldn't have thought of doing
just months before but now, in many ways, he was a different person.
    It was as if he had been born here,
destined to occupy this place, in what seemed like a lifetime ago, his old life
ended, and this new one began. He was still in mourning for the loss of his old
life, but was determined to give this life his full effort, at least for now.
There were some days he wanted to quit, but those days don't come as often as
they used to.
    Climbing into bed, John let himself
relax. He was so tired that his mind was unusually calm, and not working
overtime as usual. Within minutes, he was asleep.

Chapter 3
    John woke up early, removed his door
and stepped out. The sun wasn't up yet, but it was getting light enough to see
the sky above. Checking the sky was the first thing he did each day now. He was
always wondering when the next rain would come. The next thing in his daily
routine was to check the fire.
    He went into his hut and got some dry
grass that he kept there. All he needed was a few live embers, and he could
usually get it going. He probed the ashes with a stick, and found some hot
ones. He placed the grass next to the fire pit, then gathered a few small twigs
and sticks. Placing the grass directly on the live embers, the smoke started
immediately. He blew on the grass several times, and suddenly it burst into
flames. With the skill that comes from much
practice, he placed