There was no salt, no seasoning of any kind—the roasted wild rabbit meat didn’t taste good at all, but for the sake of survival, the two of them forced themselves to eat it. Sarah Lane hadn’t expected Andrew Clark to be able to eat it too, and to look completely unfazed while doing so. This showed that he must have eaten like this many times before, which made her even more curious about Andrew Clark, though she didn’t ask further.

A plump wild rabbit was split and eaten clean between the two of them. By the pond, Andrew Clark washed his hands and said, “Can you help me find my lost marching pack?”

“Yes,” Sarah Lane nodded affirmatively.

Andrew Clark sensed that Sarah Lane’s attitude toward him had changed a little. Looking closely, her expression was still as cold as frost, and her speech was still as brief and direct as ever—he couldn’t tell what was different. He didn’t dwell on it and said happily, “That’s great. There are supplies in there. If we find it, we won’t have to worry.”

“It’s useless,” Sarah Lane said, her eyes turning westward, her face heavy.

“Huh?” Andrew Clark was about to ask why, but when he saw Sarah Lane’s expression, he swallowed his words. Suddenly, he realized that the enemy would also need supplies—they must have taken it. He gave a wry smile and said, “True, I’m afraid there’s nothing left.”

“Let’s go,” Sarah Lane resumed her frosty demeanor and stood up.

Andrew Clark saw that Sarah Lane could barely stand and quickly said, “A few more minutes won’t hurt. Wait a bit.” He looked around, and under Sarah Lane’s curious gaze, rushed nearby, picked up a branch, used his army knife to quickly strip off the twigs, and fashioned a simple walking stick, which he brought back and handed to Sarah Lane.

“Thank you,” Sarah Lane took it and tried it out—it fit perfectly. Her face flushed hotly, and she quickly lowered her head and hurried on. She hadn’t expected Andrew Clark to be so thoughtful, even considering her height when making the walking stick. For some reason, her feelings for him deepened, but when she thought of her family background, she quickly pushed away these unrealistic fantasies.

The two set off, one in front and one behind. Sarah Lane, leading the way, said, “I’ll teach you the first lesson of jungle warfare: finding your way back when lost. In deep mountains and dense forests, you can lose not only your sense of direction but also the path itself. If you realize you’re lost, don’t panic, and definitely don’t shout or run around. Calm down and carefully recall landmarks you’ve passed—springs, rocks, big trees, streams, caves, peaks, forks in the road, and so on. Then, using your memory, look for your own tracks and retrace your steps to your original route. Try to remember.”

“It was too dark last night, and I was too busy running for my life to pay attention,” Andrew Clark said with an embarrassed smile. As a former hunter, forgetting the path he’d taken was an unforgivable mistake.

Chapter 13: Teaching Combat Skills

“At all times, you must remain calm. This is the most important thing in wilderness survival. If you can’t remember the way, there’s another method: analyze the terrain and landforms, and judge which paths wild animals might take. Sometimes, animals think like humans—they instinctively look for a path through the deep forest. If you find an animal trail, you’ve found a path that people might have taken too. You know how to look for traces of animals, right?” William Lane said coldly.

Andrew Clark realized this made sense. Animals don’t run around aimlessly in the forest; they instinctively head in a safe direction. Humans are the same in this regard—there’s no real difference between people and wild animals in this instinct. If you find the path animals have taken, you can figure out the route people might have used. It’s not 100% accurate, but it’s logical.

Finding animal trails wasn’t too hard for Andrew Clark. Trampled grass, broken branches, droppings—all were clues. Then he heard Sarah Lane’s cold voice again: “Whether you’re in a forested mountain or on a grassy slope, if you look down close to the ground, you won’t find any tracks. Only by looking from a distance—dozens of meters away—can you vaguely make out a trail where the grass blades are slightly bent, the leaves are tilted, or the undersides of leaves are turned up. Then, by comparing near and far, you can distinguish the path.”

Andrew Clark understood—Sarah Lane was teaching him skills, and he made sure to remember them carefully.

The two walked and learned as they went. Before they knew it, it was noon, and they arrived at the site of their previous battle. Along the way, Sarah Lane had picked some herbs and applied them to her wound, stopping the bleeding and containing the inflammation. This put Andrew Clark at ease. Being able to find their way back so smoothly made him happy—it showed that Sarah Lane’s methods worked. He quickly searched the area but didn’t find the marching pack; it had probably been taken by the enemy. However, the machete was still there. After having Sarah Lane sit down to rest, Andrew Clark started preparing a wild pheasant he’d hunted along the way.

There was no water nearby, so he couldn’t wash or clean it properly, and he couldn’t make a fire either, which made him anxious. When he used to hunt, he always carried fire-starting materials, so he never had to worry about making a fire. Not far away, Sarah Lane seemed to see through Andrew Clark’s predicament and said calmly, “Now I’ll teach you the second trick of wilderness survival: making fire from nothing.”

“Oh, great!” Andrew Clark was delighted. He’d been curious about the fire Sarah Lane had made last time, but hadn’t asked out of respect for her privacy. Now that Sarah Lane was offering to teach him, he listened intently.