Chapter 429: Chapter 240: Potential Threats!
"Did you see those exceptionally robust roosters? Their meat is very good, and their growth cycle isn’t too slow either, offering the best quality protein for your table."
"They look fantastic." Lin Yu’an genuinely praised. That’s why he initially chose this breed of chicken for farming. Together with Stan, they adeptly caught these clucking creatures one by one into transport crates.
When they placed the last crate, Stan leaned against the door frame, lit a pipe, took a deep draw, and the exhaled smoke condensed into a cloud in the cold air.
Lin Yu’an looked at Stan and said, "Stan, have you... recently noticed anything strange in the woods?"
Stan paused his smoking hand: "You’ve felt it too?"
"I just saw it on the way here, about a kilometer away from your place, stumbled upon a hunting scene."
"Oh?" Stan immediately frowned, turned his head to look at him, "Tell me about it."
"A pack of wolves hunted a deer," Lin Yu’an said in a deep voice, "The pack consisted of at least a dozen wolves, and the alpha is very large, the footprints are a size larger than those of gray wolves."
Stan’s expression turned serious, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke: "That’s not unusual. In the Brooks Range, there are always a few of those monster-like wolves."
"Exactly." Lin Yu’an nodded.
Then he voiced his biggest concern: "But they are too close to us, they didn’t even finish their prey, as if intentionally leaving the site for us to see."
Upon hearing this, a chilling gleam flashed in Stan’s cloudy yet exceptionally sharp eyes. He shifted his gaze to the crates full of chickens.
"Chickens." He slowly squeezed out the word through his teeth.
Lin Yu’an instantly understood Stan’s implication.
Stan knocked the ashes out of his pipe against the door frame, his tone becoming exceedingly grim: "You know better than I do how sensitive wolves’ smell and hearing are. A cabin with the scent of poultry, to them, is like a beacon in the night, "
However, Lin Yu’an’s brows were furrowed even more tightly; his thoughts weren’t just about the safety of his own home.
"Stan," Lin Yu’an’s tone also became grim, "You have at least forty chickens here, right? And it’s closer to the place they hunted. If they are truly so bold due to food shortages, then this is their primary target."
Stan understood Lin Yu’an’s concern, and the weathered face showed a trace of comforting smile, yet his gaze became more resolute, like the perpetual rocks of the Brooks Range.
"Kid, are you worrying about this old man?" He grinned, "Don’t worry. I’ve survived on this land for thirty years and dealt with wolves for half a lifetime."
He pointed to a row of enormous moose skulls hanging under his cabin’s eaves, then pointed to the old but well-maintained Remington Model 700 Rifle leaning in a corner.
"They know I’m not to be trifled with here, but your place is different." Stan’s expression returned to seriousness. "You’re new here, your house is new, the scent is new. They’ll probe to see if you’re tough or an easy target."
Lin Yu’an said solemnly: "I will be doubly cautious."
"Being careful isn’t enough." Stan shook his head, "Your wooden cabin is beautifully built, very solid, can withstand the wind and snow. But remember, only when its man can protect it at all times, can a house be called a home."
"You can’t let the wolf pack think your chicken coop is an open lunch box. You must let them know how formidable you are before they make their first move."
"I understand, Stan." Lin Yu’an nodded formally, a cold fierceness flashing in his eyes.
"It’s crucial to guard against people, and just as crucial to guard against wolves." Stan’s tone softened a bit, offering some advice from experience.
"This is the time they are hungriest and boldest. Ensure your defenses, and don’t let them savor any benefit."
He spoke, but didn’t rush Lin Yu’an away, instead led him around his cabin and barn.
"Kid, follow me, I’ll teach you some old Alaska tricks." He pointed to the ground around his cabin, faint traces could be seen under the seemingly random accumulation of snow.
"Wolves have keener noses than dogs, and they define territories by odor. They detest the scent of other large canines, especially that of threatening males."
He looked up at Lin Yu’an, asking: "Your big dog, called Whiskey, right? Is it male?"
"Yes, a Bernese Mountain Dog." Lin Yu’an promptly replied.
"That’s correct." Stan nodded, "Bernese Mountain Dogs are large enough, and their scent is sufficiently intimidating."
"You can lead it around your house and chicken coop, meticulously walking in a circle, leaving its ’mark’ at every critical corner."
Stan’s gaze turned earnest: "This is a strategic scent patrol. You’re using your dog to declare to the wolf pack that a powerful opponent has claimed this area."
Lin Yu’an nodded seriously.
Then Stan pointed to the barn’s corner, where some black grease-stained rags were piled.
Continued saying, "Just the dog’s scent isn’t secure enough. Around your chicken coop, every ten meters, set a one-meter high wooden pole."
"Then tie these strips of rags dipped in a mixture of motor oil and diesel atop the poles."
"Wolves hate this pungent industrial scent; it forms a second-tier scent barrier they won’t easily approach."
Lin Yu’an memorized these simple yet highly effective methods.
Stan halted, his gaze turned exceedingly severe: "The last point, and the most important one, show no mercy."
He looked at Lin Yu’an, speaking deliberately, "If, just if, you notice wolves begin to disregard these warnings and continue to linger and test around your house."
"It means they’ve already considered you and your family as prey. When that time comes, don’t wait any longer."
"Lin, before they launch their first attack, you must shoot. Kill or wound the leader, let them know you’re formidable, know there’s a threat of death here. Only blood and death will truly teach these beasts a lesson."
Stan’s words were filled with the ruthless and straightforward survival laws of the Alaskan frontier.
He squinted his eyes, looking towards the distant mountains, a cold smile belonging to a hunter curled at his lips, "When the days lengthen a bit in one or two months, the weather stabilizes."
"Then it’ll be our turn for a response, organizing a community wolf hunt, to thoroughly teach these reckless beasts a lesson."
"Hurry back, it gets dark early." Stan’s face reverted to a cheerful smile, as if those murderous plans had never transpired.
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