I was especially riveted by an amateur photograph in Herrero’s book, taken late at night by a camper with a flash at a campground out West. The photograph caught four black bears as they puzzled over a suspended food bag. The bears were clearly startled but not remotely alarmed by the flash. It was not the size or demeanor of the bears that troubled me — they looked almost comically unagressive, like four guys who had gotten a Frisbee caught up a tree — but their numbers. Up to that moment it had not occurred to me that bears might prowl in parties. What on earth would I do if four bears came into my camp? Why, I would die, of course. Literally shit myself lifeless. I would blow my sphincter out my backside like one of those unrolling paper streamers you get at children’s parties — I daresay it would even give a merry toot — and bleed to a messy death in my sleeping bag.

Black bears rarely attack. But here's the thing. Sometimes they do. All bears are agile, cunning and immensely strong, and they are always hungry. If they want to kill you and eat you, they can, and pretty much whenever they want. That doesn't happen often, but - and here is the absolutely salient point - once would be enough.

If I go to sleep and the fires die down, who knows but wild beasts may come upon us and kill us before we can seize our arms.

Be scared. You can't help that. But don't be afraid. Ain't nothing in the woods going to hurt you unless you corner it, or it smells that you are afraid. A bear or a deer, too, has got to be scared of a coward the same as a brave man has got to be.

If I could drown in sleep as I drown in fear I would be no longer alive.

I probably would have killed myself. There was a 90% chance. That's how toxic that place was

If it had been a bear it would have bit you.

If there was just - just - a purple monster sitting in a corner, waiting for me to walk over it, I would shit myself dry. I would absolutely lose all control of my bowels!

If I could not walk far and fast, I think I should just explode and perish.

If the oxygenator breaks down, I’ll suffocate. If the water reclaimer breaks down, I’ll die of thirst. If the Hab breaches, I’ll just kind of explode. If none of those things happen, I’ll eventually run out of food and starve to death. So yeah. I’m fucked.

The sidewalk was in trouble and the bears were in trouble and I broke it up.

I arrived in the camp having thrown up more than I ever had, so somebody said drink some water. We went to our respective beds and the bush toilet was a long way away and the kerosene lamp had gone out. So I did what any camper does and thought I'll just step this way closer to the bushes and go to the loo - slightly forgetting that everything was recorded and on infra-red camera. I was extremely unwell and thought that rather than throw up over camp I'd go for a quick wee-stop in the jungle.

Is there any death here in our camp? Yes, yes! Three hundred and fifty thousand soldiers, the noblest band that ever trod the earth, died to make this camp a camp of glory and of liberty forever. But there are no dead issues here. There are no dead ideas here. Hang out our banner from under the blue sky this night, until it shall sweep the green turf under your feet. It hangs over our camp. Read away up under the stars the inscription we have written on it, lo these twenty-five years.

I had as well be killed running as die standing