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    Explain the thoughts and feelings the writer has during his encounter with the bear.

    There was a sound of undergrowth being disturbed - a click of breaking branches, a weighty pushing through low
    foliage - and then a kind of large, vaguely irritable snuffling noise.
    Bear!
    I sat bolt upright. Instantly every neuron in my brain was awake and dashing around frantically, like ants
    when you disturb their nest. I reached instinctively for my knife, then realized I had left it in my pack, just outside
    the tent. Nocturnal defence had ceased to be a concern after many successive nights of tranquil woodland repose.
    There was another noise, quite near.
    ‘Stephen, you awake?’ I whispered.
    ‘Yup,’ he replied in a weary but normal voice.
    ‘What was that?’
    ‘How the hell should I know?’
    ‘It sounded big.’
    ‘Everything sounds big in the woods.’
    This was true. Once a skunk had come plodding through our camp and it had sounded like a stegosaurus.
    There was another heavy rustle and then the sound of lapping at the spring. It was having a drink, whatever it
    was.
    I shuffled on my knees to the foot of the tent, cautiously unzipped the mesh and peered out, but it was pitch
    black. As quietly as I could, I brought in my backpack and, with the light of a small torch, searched through it
    for my knife. When I found it and opened the blade I was appalled at how wimpy it looked. It was a perfectly
    respectable appliance for, say, buttering pancakes, but patently inadequate for defending oneself against 400
    pounds of ravenous fur.
    Carefully, very carefully, I climbed from the tent and put on the torch, which cast a distressingly feeble beam.
    Something about 15 or 20 feet away looked up at me. I couldn’t see anything at all of its shape or size - only two
    shining eyes. It went silent, whatever it was, and stared back at me.
    ‘Stephen,’ I whispered at his tent, ‘did you pack a knife?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Have you got anything sharp at all?’
    He thought for a moment. ‘Nail clippers.’
    I made a despairing face. ‘Anything a little more vicious than that? Because, you see, there is definitely
    something out here.’
    ‘It’s probably just a skunk.’
    ‘Then it’s one big skunk. Its eyes are three feet off the ground.’
    ‘A deer then.’
    I nervously threw a stick at the animal, and it didn’t move, whatever it was. A deer would have bolted. This
    thing just blinked once and kept staring.
    I reported this to Katz.
    ‘Probably a buck. They’re not so timid. Try shouting at it.’
    I cautiously shouted at it: ‘Hey! You there! Scat!’ The creature blinked again, singularly unmoved. ‘You
    shout,’ I said.
    ‘Oh, you brute, go away, do!’ Katz shouted in merciless imitation. ‘Please withdraw at once, you horrid
    creature.’
    ‘Oh thank you,’ I said and lugged my tent right over to his. I didn’t know what this would achieve exactly,
    but it brought me a tiny measure of comfort to be nearer to him.
    ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘I’m moving my tent.’
    ‘Oh, good plan. That’ll really confuse it.’
    I peered and peered, but I couldn’t see anything but those two wide-set eyes staring from the near distance
    like eyes in a cartoon. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to be outside and dead or inside and waiting to be
    dead. I was barefoot and in my underwear and shivering. What I really wanted - really, really wanted - was for
    the animal to withdraw.

    Stuck on this question for English HW. Please help me
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    (Original post by Karnan)
    Explain the thoughts and feelings the writer has during his encounter with the bear.

    There was a sound of undergrowth being disturbed - a click of breaking branches, a weighty pushing through low
    foliage - and then a kind of large, vaguely irritable snuffling noise.
    Bear!
    I sat bolt upright. Instantly every neuron in my brain was awake and dashing around frantically, like ants
    when you disturb their nest. I reached instinctively for my knife, then realized I had left it in my pack, just outside
    the tent. Nocturnal defence had ceased to be a concern after many successive nights of tranquil woodland repose.
    There was another noise, quite near.
    ‘Stephen, you awake?’ I whispered.
    ‘Yup,’ he replied in a weary but normal voice.
    ‘What was that?’
    ‘How the hell should I know?’
    ‘It sounded big.’
    ‘Everything sounds big in the woods.’
    This was true. Once a skunk had come plodding through our camp and it had sounded like a stegosaurus.
    There was another heavy rustle and then the sound of lapping at the spring. It was having a drink, whatever it
    was.
    I shuffled on my knees to the foot of the tent, cautiously unzipped the mesh and peered out, but it was pitch
    black. As quietly as I could, I brought in my backpack and, with the light of a small torch, searched through it
    for my knife. When I found it and opened the blade I was appalled at how wimpy it looked. It was a perfectly
    respectable appliance for, say, buttering pancakes, but patently inadequate for defending oneself against 400
    pounds of ravenous fur.
    Carefully, very carefully, I climbed from the tent and put on the torch, which cast a distressingly feeble beam.
    Something about 15 or 20 feet away looked up at me. I couldn’t see anything at all of its shape or size - only two
    shining eyes. It went silent, whatever it was, and stared back at me.
    ‘Stephen,’ I whispered at his tent, ‘did you pack a knife?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Have you got anything sharp at all?’
    He thought for a moment. ‘Nail clippers.’
    I made a despairing face. ‘Anything a little more vicious than that? Because, you see, there is definitely
    something out here.’
    ‘It’s probably just a skunk.’
    ‘Then it’s one big skunk. Its eyes are three feet off the ground.’
    ‘A deer then.’
    I nervously threw a stick at the animal, and it didn’t move, whatever it was. A deer would have bolted. This
    thing just blinked once and kept staring.
    I reported this to Katz.
    ‘Probably a buck. They’re not so timid. Try shouting at it.’
    I cautiously shouted at it: ‘Hey! You there! Scat!’ The creature blinked again, singularly unmoved. ‘You
    shout,’ I said.
    ‘Oh, you brute, go away, do!’ Katz shouted in merciless imitation. ‘Please withdraw at once, you horrid
    creature.’
    ‘Oh thank you,’ I said and lugged my tent right over to his. I didn’t know what this would achieve exactly,
    but it brought me a tiny measure of comfort to be nearer to him.
    ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘I’m moving my tent.’
    ‘Oh, good plan. That’ll really confuse it.’
    I peered and peered, but I couldn’t see anything but those two wide-set eyes staring from the near distance
    like eyes in a cartoon. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to be outside and dead or inside and waiting to be
    dead. I was barefoot and in my underwear and shivering. What I really wanted - really, really wanted - was for
    the animal to withdraw.

    Stuck on this question for English HW. Please help me
    I remember this question, a few points:initially) frightened/then relieved (as bear turned awayfrom water) 7. expected attack/lucky to be armed/realised gun wasbest chance of survival



    1. felt that being downwind of bear had bought him time
    2. scared/physically shaking/trying to prepare himself
    3. the sight of the bear left a lasting impression
    4. mistakenly thought bears moved slowly/ludicrous to



    think of outrunning it
    12. felt light-headed with relief when bear disappeared into



    scrub
    13. reluctant to shoot the bear/attempted to scare it by



    shouting/ /tried to anticipate bear’s movements
    14. wondered how long he could keep his cool (for long



    enough to fire a shot)
    15. thought he was very fortunate when the bear moved off
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    Sorry for the bad layout



    my computer is messed up
    • Thread Starter
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    (Original post by gortz1o1)
    Sorry for the bad layout



    my computer is messed up
    Haha it's cool bro :P Thanks for ya help
 
 
 
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