Nike was a wheel dog who was directly in front of the sled (雪橇) and take most of the force. Whether little Nike had been named after the athletic shoe or the Greek goddess of victory, I would never know. He came into my life due to an injury in one of his legs which prevented him from making the team for the Trail Sled Dog Race.

My lifelong dream was to become a mountain man. So this winter, my wife Cheryl and I headed into the mountains with supplies to live for five months. In January, we had begun pushing east toward an untraveled area of the Yukon River. The trapping prospects there looked promising. We returned to our main cabin and made plans for me to use Cheryl’s dogs, hooking (钩) them together to form a large team. The idea was to bring supplies several miles down the river and establish a permanent camp.

That meant I’d be traveling alone and driving a sled loaded with around 300 pounds of goods, which meant extra hard work for my wheeler, Nike. The first serious challenge in our trip came where the path went down a steep valley that led to the river. As we started down, I stood on the brake with all of my weight in an attempt to keep balance. But the heavy sled began overtaking the dogs, and they picked up their pace to stay ahead of it. The sled became faster and faster until we came to a sharp turn at the bottom of the hill.

Eventually, the dogs got entangled (缠结) with each other and the sled got stuck in a crack in the river ice. I emerged from a large snowdrift and assessed the damage. I expected to find my dogs and a broken sled. But the sled was fine, and the dogs had jumped over each other, freeing themselves from the tangled ropes. Nike emerged from’ the snow, shook himself off, looked at me with encouraging eyes and made me smile.

Now I have to save myself from the icy river.

I had begun to accept that this was how I was going to die, but Nike wouldn’t have it.

African elephants are in trouble. Their numbers have fallen violently from as many as ten million a hundred years ago to as few as 400,000 today. Losses are largely from poaching（偷猎） for the illegal ivory trade, and also because of the smaller living space for elephants, as people open up land for farming and development.

Killing some elephants to help save the species is one suggested strategy for preserving them. Here’s the thinking: Invite rich hunters to pay generous fees to shoot specified numbers of elephants, and use that money as sources for various conservations.

Some people claim that trophy hunting can provide generous financial support for people to conserve and restore wild elephant numbers, protect wildlife from poaching, and to help give local communities a boost in economy. Doing that, the theory goes, poor villagers won’t need to poach elephants to feed their families.

To look into the new business closely, the trophy hunting industry does not provide significant benefits to the communities where it occurs. Across Africa, there are only about 15,000 hunting-related jobs created by the business—a tiny number, especially considering that the six main game-hunting countries alone have a population of nearly 150 million.

Besides that, it is true the total income from trophy hunting is substantial. Take an unnamed area for example, the total income to wild conservancies from trophy hunting, amounted to $165,000. Six years later, this is expected to increase almost tenfold to $1,330,000. Yet after various kinds of processing fees and expenses are reduced, the local communities make an average of only ten cents a hectare (25 cents an acre) from trophy hunting. The return is so small that it justly explains locals’ lack of interest in preserving hunting areas and their continued poaching.

The Christmas holidays were fast approaching, and we had ordered many gifts online. So, when the doorbell rang, I was sure some of the packages had arrived. I ran to the door and swung it open, but no one was there. I sensed something and looked down, only to find a beautiful calico kitten (杂色猫) sitting there, looking up at me with big, intelligent eyes. There was no way that she could have rung the doorbell by herself, was there?

We figured that someone had found the kitten somewhere and left her there, and then rang the doorbell and ran away. They accurately guessed we would welcome an additional family member and take care of her.

My husband called her our little angel, so we named her accordingly. She had a calm aura (气质) about her as she walked straight into our home and hearts, fitting in perfectly. It seemed as if she was always meant to be in this big house with us. She was an old soul and turned out to be the perfect companion. Always by my side, she was more like a puppy than a kitten. Wise beyond her years, she enjoyed wandering through the tunnels and mysterious rooms as much as I did, but with much less fear. Angelica the calico was courageous.

So, I took a page from her book and decided to be brave, too. There was an underground stone cellar (地窖) I had been eager to explore. The only way in was down a rickety (摇晃的) ladder to its murky depths. I guessed it was an old root cellar, probably twelve feet deep.

I had promised my husband that I wouldn’t explore dangerous areas unless he or someone else was around. Though I knew I was stretching it, I figured that Angelica would count as my companion. I was ready to explore this cellar, and so was she.

I equipped myself with a good flashlight and warm clothes, and carefully started down the rickety ladder while Angelica was looking down at me from above. Faint crack and sudden crash were what I could remember.