Hatchet Ch 8-9
Storyboard Text
- I can't take this anymore. I'm alone and in the dark and I have no fire. I can't do this. I can't. I can't!
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- That's it! This is what they want to tell me. The hatchet is the answer. I can make fire using the hatchet!
- Brian woke up to a really bad smell. He was terrified. Then he heard the sound of something on the ground, so he kicked and threw the hatchet at it. The hatchet missed. He felt intense pain on his leg. A porcupine had attacked him. He had to pull each needle out of his leg. It was very, very painful. So he cried and cried until he can't cry anymore.
- What makes fire? What am I doing wrong? How can I make a fire? There had to be a way!
- So close... so close!
- Brian learned the most important rule of survival. Feeling sorry for yourself does not work. After he cried and cried, his leg still hurt and he was still alone in the dark. His self-pity accomplished nothing. That night, he had a dream. His father was trying to tell him something. Terry was pointing at a barbecue pit with fire. Brian does not understand it.
- Fire! I've got fire! I need to feed it. I need to get more wood to keep my fire going!
- Brian knows that he needs fire, but he does not know how to make one. He saw his hatchet on the floor where it fell. He examined it and found a chip on it. He should take care of the hatchet because it is his only tool. He went outside and the sunlight flashed against the metal blade. Brian remembered that when the hatchet hit the wall, it created sparks.
- Hello, fire...
- I wonder what my father is doing... I wonder what my mother is doing...
- Brian found it was a long way from sparks to fire. He tried to use dried grass and small pieces of wood to ignite it. He tried his shredded 20-dollar bill. He tried some paper-like bark he got from trees outside his shelter. Nothing worked. Nothing happened. After thinking about what he learned about fire in school, he realized he needed to blow some air on it.
- Finally, the paper fuel burst into flame. Brian was so excited. He put some more wood on top of the paper. He had to get small pieces of wood and big pieces of wood. He did not stop to relax until the work was done. Then he leaned against the opening of his shelter and he smiled.
- So much from a small spark. Now he has a friend named fire. The fire will also guard him from animals like the porcupine and the bear. He looked around and wished he had somebody to tell about what he had done. But there was nobody. Nothing but the trees and the sun and the lake. With a smile on his face, he thought about his parents.
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