Ujurak let out a cry of terror as the Senator stepped forward and picked him up. Tiinchuu grabbed the man’s arm, but his companions pushed the healer away.
‘I’m going to see the boy gets the help he needs,’ the Senator said, thrusting at the hut door with one shoulder and carrying Ujurak out into the open. ‘As for the rest of you people, it’s time you woke up and joined the real world!’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Lusa
Lusa poked her head out yet again from the shelter of the rocks. ‘They’ve been in there an awfully long time,’ she whimpered. ‘I hope Ujurak is OK.’
She saw her own anxiety reflected in Kallik’s eyes as the white bear peered over her shoulder. ‘Maybe we should never have brought him to the flat-faces.’
‘If we hadn’t, he’d be dead by now.’ Lusa was at least certain about that. ‘I know he doesn’t have to be afraid of the flat-faces who live here. It’s these new ones I don’t like.’ She wrinkled her nose at the harsh scent of the metal bird, suppressing a shiver as she remembered the three strangers in their sleek black pelts.
‘Should we go and look through the gap in the wall?’ Kallik suggested, jerking her head towards the big den.
Lusa was tempted, but she guessed that with so many flat-faces inside, they were sure to be spotted. ‘I don’t think –’ she began.
A crash interrupted her. The door of the den had been flung open, slamming back against the exterior wall. The three visiting flat-faces strode out into the open. Lusa’s belly lurched in terror when she saw that one of them was carrying Ujurak in his arms.
Ujurak was struggling feebly, crying out something in a thin flat-face voice. Lusa didn’t understand what he was saying. Then his gaze fell on Lusa and Kallik, and he stretched out one arm towards them. ‘Lusa! Kallik! Help me!’
‘He’s calling to us!’ she exclaimed. ‘They must be taking him away. Kallik, we might never see him again!’
Suddenly Lusa didn’t care about being seen by the flat-faces. She burst out from behind the rocks, letting out a fearsome roar as she hurtled towards the strangers. ‘Stop!’ she shouted. ‘Don’t take him! Leave him alone!’
The flat-faces stared at her in horror, then ran for their metal bird.
‘Stop!’ Lusa shouted again. ‘Ujurak belongs with us!’
The flat-faces ignored her. They reached the metal bird and climbed aboard, bundling Ujurak in with them. Loud growling like the noise of a firebeast came from inside the bird; the metal wings on top began to spin with a chopping, huffing noise. Wind swept across Lusa, buffeting her fur, as the bird rose slowly into the air.
Scrambling to her paws, she bounded after the metal bird. ‘Come back! Come back!’ Her calls were drowned out by the clattering of its wings. ‘He’s our friend!’
As the metal bird rose higher, Lusa became aware of shouting from behind her, and she realised that the villagers were pouring out of the big den, surrounding her. She felt trapped by the noise and scent of flat-faces. Panic surged through her from her snout to the tip of her tail and she let out a growl. ‘Get back! Leave me alone!’ she snarled, lashing out with her forepaw in the hope of scaring them off.
A yell of alarm came from somewhere among the flat-faces. Lusa heard Kallik calling, ‘Lusa! Lusa!’ but she couldn’t see her friend through the crowd of flat-faces.
Desperately Lusa searched for a way of escape. Then she recognised the healer who had helped Ujurak. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd, opening up a gap. Lusa charged through it and saw Kallik waiting for her near the rocky outcrop.
‘Come on!’ the white bear barked. ‘We’ve got to get out of here.’
As she ran towards her friend, Lusa spotted the metal bird again, growing smaller as it flew off above the mountain slope, heading along the ridge that ran parallel with the coast. She hurled herself after it. She had already lost Toklo, the bear she had left the Bear Bowl to find, and now she was losing Ujurak too. She realised that although she had imagined herself living the life of a wild bear, alone in the forest, she had never really thought about what that would mean. Now all she knew for sure was that she didn’t want to lose her friends. Her heart pounded with fear.
‘Quick, Kallik,’ she begged. ‘We’ve got to follow them.’
Not waiting for Kallik’s response, she hurtled across the valley and began to scramble uphill, determined to keep the metal bird in sight. Lusa’s breath came in huge gasps as she forced herself to keep going, thrusting herself up the steep slope.
‘Lusa, slow down!’ Kallik called after her. ‘It’s no use!’
Muscles screaming, paws scraping on the rough ground, Lusa forced herself on, up the mountain slope. The metal bird was still ahead of her. Lusa charged down into a gully, then up the slope on the other side, dodging rocks and scrubby bushes. She could hear Kallik struggling behind her.
Pausing for a moment, gasping for breath, she saw that the metal bird was growing tinier and tinier in the sky, pulling away from her in spite of all her efforts.
‘No!’ she choked out.
She scrambled further up the slope, through a clump of stunted trees, until she reached a plateau not far from the summit. The metal bird was nothing more than a dot against the clouds. A flight of birds swarmed across Lusa’s view; when the sky cleared again, the tiny speck had disappeared.
‘They’ve gone!’ Lusa wailed, collapsing on to the ground. ‘We’ve lost Ujurak! Oh, Kallik, it’s not supposed to end like this.’
Kallik flung herself down beside Lusa, chest heaving as she fought to breathe. She was too exhausted to speak, but Lusa could see the despair in her eyes.
I’ve failed! I’ve failed! Lusa wanted to whimper. There were four of us yesterday. And now there are only two.
CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Ujurak
Ujurak lay on his back on a kind of bed in the belly of the metal bird. His stomach lurched as the bird lifted into the air. He tried to call out to Lusa again, but his throat still hurt and his voice was too weak to carry.
What will happen to Lusa and Kallik now? Will the villagers hurt them? And where’s Toklo?
He struggled to sit up, to look out of the metal bird’s windows, but he was too dizzy to keep himself upright. His throat was on fire, and his skin felt as though ants were crawling all over it.
An arm went around his shoulders, raising him; Ujurak shrank away with a cry as he realised the Senator was sitting right beside him. Was he going to start shouting like when he was talking to the villagers in the big den?
But when the Senator spoke, his voice was gentle. ‘Take it easy, son. You’re going to be just fine. Here, drink this.’
He held a water bottle to Ujurak’s lips. Ujurak gulped the cold liquid gratefully, feeling it begin to quench the fire in his throat.
Sitting up like this, resting against the Senator’s shoulder, he managed to get a glimpse out of the window, but all he could see were clouds and sky. Lusa and Kallik must be far behind, he realised, left in the village.
‘Lie back now,’ the Senator said when he had finished drinking. He gently pushed Ujurak back so that he was lying flat on the seat again; he tightened a blanket around him and arranged a small pillow under his head. ‘That’s it.’
The metal bird bobbed in the air, making his stomach lurch. Ujurak groped for the three carved bears that Tiinchuu had given him and gripped them tightly. Their edges felt hard against his frail flat-face fingers. I’m a bear! he thought, fighting back panic. Bears don’t fly . . .Bears don’t fly . . .How will the others ever find me now? When he changed into a goose or an eagle, he had always felt a pull that drew him back, even if he couldn’t remember why. But he couldn’t control his flight when he was inside the metal bird. What if it never comes back down to land?
Then he began to gain control of his fear. The metal bird had landed once; it was bound to land again, sooner or later. I have to stay alert, so I’ll be ready as soon as there’s a chance to escape.
Gazi
ng around, he realised the two flat-faces who had gone into the big den with the Senator were seated behind them at the back of the bird. Two more flat-faces were sitting in seats in front of him. They wore bulky pelts in bright colours, with hard black things sticking out of their heads. They kept reaching out their paws to prod at the surface before them, pushing and pulling at shining bulges at the front of the bird, where lights blinked on and off.
‘Try to rest,’ the Senator said.
Ujurak could hear a growl coming from deep inside the bird, and the rhythmic beating of its wings overhead. He had flown before as a gull, a goose, and even an eagle, but his sensations now were completely new. He couldn’t feel any wind around him, and he didn’t have to make any of the movements of flying: none of the swooping and gliding, no need to find air currents and let them take him upward, banking way above the ground.
Instead everything around him was still. He tried to imagine the metal bird flying high in the air, over the mountains, or maybe across the sea. He could tell that the bird was like a firebeast, not really alive, but he’d never seen a firebeast rise up from its BlackPath and fly off through the air.
Where are they taking me?
The Senator leaned forward to talk to the two flat-faces in front. ‘You’d better let the Medical Center know we’re on our way.’
One of the men glanced back and raised his hand to the Senator, the thumb pointing upward. Then he began to talk too quietly for Ujurak to follow what he was saying. Another voice replied, sounding crackling and far away.
Ujurak leaned forward to see where the voice was coming from. But there was no one hiding at the front of the metal bird. The voice was coming out of nowhere, yet none of the others seemed to think there was anything strange about it.
The Senator looked down at him, smiling. ‘What’s your name, son?’ he asked.
‘Ujurak.’
‘Where are you from?’
Ujurak stared at him. He couldn’t answer that question in a way that would make any sense to the Senator.
Now the Senator was looking puzzled. ‘Where are your folks? Your mom and dad?’
At least Ujurak understood that question, even if he wasn’t sure of the answer. ‘They’re dead, I think.’
‘You don’t have a mom?’ The Senator scratched his head. ‘Are you American?’ he asked. ‘You don’t sound American.’
That was another question Ujurak didn’t understand; he lapsed into silence again.
The Senator shook his head with a smile. ‘What a mystery you are, young man,’ he said. ‘You’re sick, you don’t have any folks, but you’re not scared, are you? Not a bit.’ He shook his head again, looking away from Ujurak. ‘Some kid,’ he muttered.
As he finished speaking, Ujurak felt the metal bird begin to drop. The note of its growling changed.
‘Where am I going?’ he croaked.
‘We’re going to get you fixed up,’ the Senator told him, smiling again.
That’s not an answer, Ujurak thought. Out of the window he could see tall white buildings as the metal bird sank past them, and then he felt a jolt as it touched down on the ground.
Well, we’re here. Wherever here is.
CHAPTER TWENTY:
Toklo
A breeze rustled through the tops of the trees as Toklo padded over a bed of cool pine needles. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the gurgling of a stream. He drew in a long breath, full of fresh forest scents, and let it out in a sigh of satisfaction.
This is the right place for a bear to be.
Travelling without taking any particular direction, he revelled in the sensation of being alone. He didn’t have to listen to Lusa’s chatter any more. He didn’t have to stand and wait while Ujurak examined a stone that might tell them where to go. He didn’t have to look into Kallik’s eyes and glimpse the hard, empty, icy wastes she longed for.
Toklo was thinking instead about carving out his own territory. He stayed alert for scratch marks on trees that warned of the presence of other grizzlies, but he didn’t see any. Pretty soon, he thought as he clawed some berries from a bush and gulped them down, as soon as I’ve found the right place, I’ll set some scratch marks of my own.
As he wandered further into the forest, he realised that he didn’t feel as if he was exploring. Instead his surroundings had a strange familiarity. That’s it! he thought, halting in surprise. I feel as if I’ve come home.
‘Fluff-brained or what?’ he muttered to himself, even while a warm sensation of comfort and safety was coursing through him from his snout to his tail. He had moved around so much with his mother and Tobi that he had never felt that he was at home before. They were always moving on, always padding restlessly from den to den, trying to find a place where they wouldn’t be disturbed by bigger bears who didn’t want them on their territory. This place felt more familiar, more reassuring than anywhere Toklo had been for a long time.
I remember that kind of bush, he thought as he ambled on, passing a thick shrub with dark, glossy leaves. Oka told us it’s no good to eat.
His ears pricked as he heard the sound of a bird hopping on a branch above his head. ‘Look at the bird over there.’ Oka’s voice seemed to sound in Toklo’s head. ‘That means there’ll be juicy maggots at the bottom of the tree, if we can get there first.’
Toklo padded over to the tree and sniffed, turning over the scraps of bark and twigs that littered the ground. Soon he exposed a cluster of fat white grubs, wriggling in the light. He licked them up with his tongue and crunched them. Delicious!
Further on, he heard the splash of a stream, and he stood on a jutting grey rock to gaze down into the peat-brown water. He remembered Oka teaching him and his brother not to stand on the green, mosscovered rocks. They’re too slippery. You could fall.
Toklo took a drink from the stream, then leaped across it and journeyed on. Memories were crowding in on him now, and he began to run, feeling sheer joy in the bunching and stretching of his muscles and the sensation of wind in his fur. Bushes slapped lightly against his pelt, and his ears filled with the song of the forest. He could almost sense two bears running alongside him, one large, the other much smaller.
Oka! Tobi! I’ve come home!
A bird shot upward right underneath Toklo’s paws, chattering crossly at him as it landed on a branch. Toklo halted, panting and glancing from side to side to make sure that no other bears had spotted him being so foolish. Oka and Tobi are dead. It’s just me now.
Toklo took a deep breath and dug his claws into the ground. That’s fine. I’m glad to be alone.
He was pleased with what he’d seen of the forest so far. There wasn’t a big river where he could catch salmon – or at least he hadn’t found one yet – but there were streams to drink from and plenty of signs of other prey. He picked up a trace of ground squirrel scent, and his jaws watered at the thought of succulent newkill.
As Toklo emerged into a clear patch on the hillside, he heard a thrumming noise from above the trees. His fur prickled as he cast a wary glance into the sky and spotted a metal bird skimming over the treetops. Then he relaxed as the sound died away, leaving the forest peaceful once more.
Dismissing the metal bird from his mind, Toklo gazed at the forest around the grassy meadow. All this could be my territory, he thought. My home.
A raucous cry from behind him startled him out of his thoughts. He turned to spot a woodpecker clinging to a tree trunk a couple of bearlengths away. Its pale head and spotted feathers stood out clearly against the rough bark.
‘Er . . . hi there,’ Toklo muttered, a bit embarrassed to be talking to a bird. ‘Do you know you’re in my territory?’
‘Chawk!’ the bird replied.
‘I guess you don’t know, or care,’ Toklo went on. ‘But it’s true.’ All those moons of travelling, all the bare and hungry places he had passed through, had brought him here to this place, where he could be a true brown bear. ‘Not a black bear. Not a white bear,’ he informed the bird.
‘A brown bear. The way I was always meant to be.’
‘Chawk!’ said the bird.
As the harsh cry died away, the forest seemed to grow still around Toklo. In the silence, a shiver passed through him. The forest is very big. It’ll take me ages to explore . . .
‘But that’s OK,’ he said aloud, trying to sound confident. ‘I’ve got plenty of time.’
The first thing, he realised, was to make a den. A proper den, not just a temporary place to shelter under a bush or beside a rock. He tried to picture what Oka had done when she had built them a den. Toklo remembered his burning resentment that he had to stay and learn what to do while Tobi was allowed to go off and chase beetles.
Furious with Oka and his brother, Toklo hadn’t paid much attention. He had never imagined that Oka would leave him so soon.
She didn’t mean to do it. She loved me. Lusa said so.
He wondered if Oka had realised even back then that Tobi would never live to build a den of his own.
Shaking his pelt, Toklo realised that he knew how to build a den. He had listened reluctantly, distracted by Tobi’s happy cries, but he had listened all the same. He sniffed around the roots of the trees at the edge of the clearing, watched by the woodpecker with its head cocked on one side.
These aren’t the right trees, he told himself. Oka said to find one that doesn’t shed its leaves in the cold season, so it shelters the den from rain and snow.
He pushed a few bearlengths further into the forest until he came to a row of dark-needled pines growing along the sloping bank of a stream. The woodpecker darted along behind him, as if it wanted to see what he would do.
This is a good place, Toklo decided. There’s water, and bushes near the stream that would be good for hunting. There might even be mountain goats in the clearing.
Toklo rejected the trees at the bottom of the slope, knowing that if there was heavy rain the stream would rise and flood his den. He found a good thick tree a little further up, but its roots were so tangled that he knew he would never be able to make the hole big enough. Finally, near the top of the slope, he found the perfect spot beneath a tree whose lowgrowing branches almost swept the ground, to give extra shelter. He padded around it until he worked out where he would be protected from the prevailing wind, and where he would have to dig to get the most warmth from the sun during the day.