Whichever it was, here was the warm sun of fortune smiling on me, this sudden shower of forest flesh, and I felt, again, the gratitude I’d felt in that other forest, the moment that wild pig first appeared to me on the top of that ridge. Oh, it can be hard work, hunting and gathering, but in the end it isn’t really the work that produces the food you’re after, this effort for that result, for there’s no sure correlation between effort and result. And no deserving of this: I felt none of the sense of achievement you feel at the end of a season in the garden, when all your work has paid off in
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