I blew the rescue whistle in my hand, and the loud and sharp sound forced me to cover my ears as well.

The whistle sounded and echoed for a long time in the valley.

After blowing the whistle for a while, I stopped and listened quietly to see if Pat would respond.

Perhaps because the mountains were too deep, I could not hear any other sounds except for the echoing whistle.

At this moment, Top also pricked up its ears and listened quietly to the feedback coming from all around. Soon, a look of joy appeared on its face, and it pointed to a place and squeaked at me.

I looked in the direction Top was pointing; that was where we had escaped from yesterday. Pat could very well still be active in that area, because the last place he found me was in that direction.

After waiting a while, I saw a familiar black dot flying towards me high in the sky again, its shape exhibiting the standard circling motion of eagles and falcons.

Pat has excellent eyesight, and with the rare sunshine today, the thick fog has dissipated. Now that large areas of trees have been uprooted by the mudslide, the surroundings are quite open, and it's only a matter of time before he discovers Top and me.

Soon, the figure circling high in the sky seemed to have identified Top and me, and immediately flapped its wings to adjust its direction and glided toward us.

Pat, who had spotted us, seemed quite excited and even let out a hawk-like cry at high school. I blew the rescue whistle again in response to Pat.

However, after only two or three minutes, Pat returned to my side.

Standing on my right forearm again, Pat let out a soft hawk-like cry. The sound was no longer fierce; instead, it was like a child's affectionate murmur.

Pat seemed very happy to see me again after a night.

Pat kept nibbling at my hand with its beak, but it didn't bite hard. It was just like a pet dog playing around by putting your finger in its mouth, not intending to bite you.

I touched Pat's smooth feathers and took out some roasted bear liver that I had brought from home from my basket.

Yesterday, a landslide caused a mudslide. I imagine that the animals in the vicinity either escaped to other places or, like me, were trapped in their burrows.

The animals that have been frightened in the last day or two will definitely not come out again, so it will be quite difficult for either Pat or me to hunt any animals in this area.

However, what I didn't know was that due to the unique geological structure of this area, there was a possibility of landslides whenever it rained, only the scale of the disaster was minor.

The slightly larger animals had long since abandoned this place as their home, for a simple reason: they were just out there trying to make a living.

I don't want to live in this kind of thrill every day, because who knows when a heavy rain might come and bury my whole family while they're still sleeping in their nest.

This place is now a place even rabbits avoid. Apart from a few tenacious mountain rats and wild birds that occasionally forage and rest here, no other animals would venture into this place.

This is the real reason why I was able to travel smoothly without encountering a single predator attack, even though the fog was very thick.

Pat hadn't eaten since yesterday, so he must not have found any food in the mountains. Now, he doesn't refuse the roasted bear liver in my hand at all, and immediately starts eating it in large mouthfuls.

After Pat finished eating, I pointed northwest and gave him my usual instructions.

"Pat, patrol!"

As soon as I gave the command, Pat, having eaten and drunk his fill, obediently flapped his wings and took off, soaring into the high sky to the northwest.

Before long, Pat hovered in the air at a height of twenty or thirty meters, and began to scan everything on the ground with its scanner-like eyes.

Seeing Pat slowly circling and flying away meant that there were no large wild beasts ahead, and it was safe to continue.

We continued our journey in the northwest direction, as most of the trees had been knocked down, making walking much easier.

However, the layer of mud on the ground, which was often tens of centimeters thick, made walking extremely difficult for us.

Although the mud had settled overnight and stopped flowing, the time was still too short, and the mud was too soft to support my weight.

Each step you take leaves mud at least up to your calves, and you have to pull it out with force before you can move on to the next step.

The road, which appeared relatively open without any bushes blocking its path, wasn't as easy to walk as I'd imagined. Fortunately, it was only about a kilometer long.

However, even this short distance of just over a kilometer took me more than half an hour to walk. My legs felt as if I had walked dozens of kilometers, and they were incredibly sore and weak.

Top wasn't wearing shoes, so the resistance when he pulled his legs was relatively much smaller.

It's doing quite well now, and Top is jumping up a tree to look around at things with great curiosity.

I remained vigilant throughout, keeping my shotgun firmly in hand, ready to respond to any unexpected situation.

We continued on our way cautiously for about an hour, and then I heard that huge roar of the rapids crashing against the rocks again.

It seems my judgment was correct; the deep canyon is indeed to the northwest. However, judging from the decibel level of the sound, we are at least two or three miles away from where the water is.

What I heard now wasn't the kind of deafening sound; I had to listen carefully to find its trace.

Thinking of this, I quickened my pace; the journey wasn't too far yet. If we walked a little further, we'd definitely be able to see that grand canyon.

As they drew closer, the powerful sound of the water gradually became clearer.

I could tell that the volume of water flowing out was enormous; it might be the ten-meter-wide stream I had accidentally discovered when I was hunting wild ducks with a blowgun.

There must be more than one stream like this in the vicinity, just like in my hometown. It's just that the situation here is exactly the opposite of my hometown.

Back in my hometown, I had already reached my residence in front of that giant lake, so I knew that the other waterways were draining water from the lake.

Here, however, it's the opposite. The deep underground canyon gathers all the nearby water systems here, in this depression...

It's certain that there are large rivers, but I don't know how big these rivers are, or how they compare to the Yellow River and the Yangtze River in my memory. This inevitably arouses my curiosity.

After a while, I finally saw the great river, and it was a very large river, wider than most rivers I had ever seen.