‘Swim!’ Kallik gasped.
For a few moments Lusa was too exhausted to obey. She pawed feebly at the surface, Kallik’s claws keeping her above water. The frothing waves surrounded them, battering over their faces and their backs; Lusa was sure that any moment now they would sink and not come up again.
Then she caught sight of a tree on the bank. Its branches were bathed in golden rays of sunlight. Calm suddenly swept over her, as if some great bear had laid a gentle paw on her head. Somehow she forced her aching legs to begin paddling again, and tried to keep the opposite bank in sight as she struggled across the current.
You told us to cross the river, she thought. You won’t let us drown.
At last, Lusa could feel the scrape of rocks beneath her thrashing paws and managed to stand with the river surging around her shoulders. Kallik gave her a push and guided her to a gap in the rocky bank, where they could scramble up a slope of shale.
Lusa felt as if her body was one huge bruise as she clambered out of the river. Her fur was plastered to her sides, and she shivered in the bright sunshine as she gasped and coughed up mouthfuls of water.
Bending her head, she whispered, ‘Thank you. Thank you . . .’
‘That’s OK,’ Kallik said, pushing her snout into Lusa’s shoulder. ‘You managed fine in the end.’
‘I was thanking the Bear Watcher.’ Lusa staggered into the shade of a bush and collapsed, her sides heaving as she gulped in air. ‘He gave us the signs to lead us across the river. I had to trust the signs to lead us the right way, not somewhere we’d drown.’ She looked up at her friend, who just gave her a confused nod. ‘But thank you too, Kallik. I wouldn’t have made it without you.’
Kallik stumbled to her side and curled up next to her. ‘I’ll always be here for you, my friend,’ she murmured.
Lusa knew they should get up and continue searching for Ujurak. But the sun was warm on her fur, and the roar of the river faded to a comforting murmur. Kallik was dozing at her side; at last Lusa gave up the struggle to stay awake, and let herself sink into darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:
Toklo
Sunlight angling through the trees woke Toklo. He blinked sleepily, then let out a startled yelp and opened his eyes wider. He was staring into Ujurak’s face!
‘Cloud-brain!’ he muttered to himself a moment later. It wasn’t Ujurak’s muzzle he was looking at, just a knot in the trunk of a nearby tree. It doesn’t even look like Ujurak! he scoffed, hauling himself out of his den and shaking earth from his pelt. That’s just the sort of bee-brained thing Lusa would think!
Lusa believed that when bears died, their spirits went into trees. Toklo’s belly lurched. Ujurak isn’t dead, he told himself. That flat-face was making him better.
To push the thought out of his mind, he rubbed himself against the knotted bark, giving his pelt a good scratch. His wounds from the previous day’s fight were still painful; his muscles ached and his belly was growling for prey.
Cautiously he sniffed the air. No sign of that other bear. Good! I taught him a lesson he won’t forget!
Feeling stronger, Toklo looked around. The forest was very quiet, and he wondered where the woodpecker had gone. ‘I wish he’d come back,’ he muttered, and immediately felt foolish. That’s totally squirrel-brained, missing birds!
But it stops you missing Kallik, Lusa and Ujurak, a small voice whispered inside his head.
Toklo tried to shake off the thought as if it were a troublesome fly. He struggled to recapture the way he had felt the day before, when the forest was an exciting place to explore, and he was proud to be a bear, marking out his own territory. But somehow he didn’t want to venture any further today.
I’ll stay here and finish off my den, he decided.
But when he started to scrape at the hole again his claws hurt too much to keep on digging out the hard-packed earth. Frustrated, Toklo paced up and down for a while, trying to decide what to do. His belly was bawling even louder now, but there didn’t seem to be any prey close by his den.
I’ll go this way, he said to himself at last, setting out in the opposite direction from the meadow where he had encountered the other bear.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, he worked his way deeper into the forest, crossing a wooded spur that thrust out from the ridge. A stream tumbled down to the valley bottom, and Toklo splashed through it, grateful for the bubbling water on his sore claws, and its icy coolness when he stopped to quench his thirst. Strength began to return to his muscles as he scrambled up rocks and bounded down slopes covered with lush undergrowth. The trees cast their shade over him, filling the air with the murmuring of their leaves.
He still hadn’t found any prey when he came to another stream where berry bushes were growing close to the water on the other side. As he waded across to the opposite bank he heard a rustling sound among the bushes. Another bear was in his territory!
‘Get out!’ Toklo roared, charging towards it.
He skidded to a stop as a small black bear scrambled out of the bushes, staring at him with fear in its eyes. It backed away, letting out a terrified whimper, and Toklo took a pace backwards. Suddenly he could see Lusa gazing at him from the dark, frightened eyes of the other bear. Sensing that it wasn’t about to be attacked, the black bear whipped around and fled.
As the little bear scuttled away, a scoffing voice spoke behind Toklo. ‘Ooh! You’re so brave! No black bears in your territory!’
Toklo spun around to see the other brown bear emerging from behind a nearby tree.
Wincing inwardly, Toklo let out a growl as he stepped forward. ‘What do you want?’ He bared his teeth. If he wants another fight, he can have one!
But the other bear didn’t move towards him. ‘I’m just exploring,’ he said. ‘Hunting. Watching.’
‘But this is my territory,’ Toklo reminded him.
The brown bear snorted. ‘No, it’s not. I told you, you don’t belong here.’
Rage began to mount inside Toklo. ‘I’ve built a den!’ he protested.
‘What? That little scrape in the earth back there? I thought that was a ground squirrel hole.’ The brown bear’s eyes were gleaming with mockery. ‘Do your ears fit in? At least your head will be above water if it floods.’
Toklo’s fury overflowed. He leaped forward and the other bear swiped at him with a paw, catching him with a blow on the side of the head. Surprised at the smaller bear’s strength, Toklo stepped back, his ears ringing.
‘There’s more where that came from,’ the intruder growled.
Toklo stared at him. He didn’t want to admit that he was reluctant to start another fight. ‘Can’t we share the territory?’ he blurted out. ‘There’s plenty of prey.’
‘You don’t get it, do you?’ the brown bear huffed scornfully. ‘There’s less prey every season, less territory, and more bears fighting over what’s left. Flat-faces steal more and more, and if we bears try to fight back, they always win. This mountain can’t support the bears that were born here, let alone strangers.’
Toklo stared in confusion. But this is the Last Great Wilderness! There’s supposed to be plenty of prey.
The brown bear padded up to him and thrust his snout into Toklo’s face.
‘Not even the mountain wants you here,’ he snarled. Turning, he headed into the undergrowth without a backward glance.
Glaring furiously after him, Toklo waited for him to get well away, then padded in the direction of his den. The sun had gone; clouds were covering the sky, as dark as the thoughts that were crowding in on Toklo.
When he reached his den, he stood on the edge of the hole and looked down. The other bear was right, he thought wretchedly. That miserable scrape isn’t a den. It’s not even deep enough for a ground squirrel!
But he knew that it wasn’t his den that really troubled him. It wasn’t even the loneliness of living on his own, though it was harder than he had ever imagined. What threw Toklo’s thoughts into turmoil, as if bees
were buzzing inside his head, was what the other bear had said about the mountain.
He says the territory is shrinking because of the flat-faces. And that’s exactly what Ujurak has been telling us all along.
Thinking back to his journey with his friends, he knew that he missed the sense of a shared destiny, the companionship of bears who were prepared to work together, and not just fight. I even miss Lusa’s annoying chatter, and the way Ujurak sees signs everywhere! He felt sorry for the other brown bear, who had no choice but to fight for every pawstep of territory, every mouthful of prey.
But you’re no better now, he reminded himself, facing up to what he had lost. He felt as if part of his insides had been ripped out.
Ujurak was certain there was a chance to change everything, Toklo thought, crawling into his inadequate den. But you threw away your opportunity to be a part of it.
As the daylight faded, Toklo stared unseeing into the shadows of the forest. ‘Oh, Ujurak,’ he murmured. ‘Did I abandon you too soon?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:
Lusa
Lusa was looking down into the Bear Bowl. She could see Yogi scrambling up the Bear Tree, while King slept in the sun. Her mother and Stella were nosing through the fruit that the flat-faces had brought.
This is weird, Lusa thought. Why aren’t I down there with them? With a jolt of sadness she knew the answer to her question: Because I don’t belong with them any more.
So where am I? she wondered. Looking around, she saw that she was standing above the Bear Bowl, surrounded by flat-faces. Fear shivered through her. They’ll catch me and take me back! Then she realised that though she could see the flat-faces, she couldn’t hear them. Their mouths were open as if they were talking and huffing out the sounds that showed they were pleased, but they were completely silent. And none of the flat-faces seemed able to see her.
This should be fun! Lusa thought. I could do anything I like, and they’d never know!
But all she wanted to do was look down at her family in the Bear Bowl. She saw Ashia leave Stella and amble across to settle down in the shade underneath the ledge. She put her nose on her paws and closed her eyes.
‘Hello, Ashia,’ Lusa whispered. ‘It’s me, Lusa. Are you dreaming about me, like I’m dreaming about you?’ Ashia’s ears twitched as if she had heard Lusa speak. ‘I’m OK, you know,’ Lusa went on. ‘I’ve got friends now, and I’ve learned how to live in the wild. You don’t need to worry about me.’
As Lusa gazed down at her mother, Ashia suddenly seemed to be drawing further and further away, until the whole of the Bear Bowl was only a dot in a blaze of sunlight that swallowed up everything else. Lusa let out a terrified cry as she realised she was falling, falling . . .
She landed on the ground with a bump that jarred every one of her bones. Her eyes flew open. She still lay under the bush where she had crawled the day before after her escape from the river. Her body hurt as if she had really fallen from the sky. Rain hissed softly down; the bush wasn’t thick enough to shelter her, and raindrops trickled through her pelt to her skin. Raw cold gripped her like the claws of a giant grizzly.
Kallik lay curled up next to her, snoring. Lusa watched her for a moment, reluctant to disturb her, then gave her a tentative prod with one paw. They had already lost time; they had spent a whole night under the bush and now a new day had dawned. They had to move, to keep on searching for Ujurak.
Letting out a grunt, Kallik opened her eyes. ‘You OK?’ she asked Lusa.
‘I’m fine.’ Sore, exhausted and scared, but still fine. ‘Thanks to you, Kallik.’
Kallik shook her head as if she was flicking off a troublesome fly. ‘Great spirits!’ she muttered. ‘I feel as if I’ve been pounded by a grizzly.’
Shakily she heaved herself to her paws; Lusa did the same, wondering if her legs would support her. The struggle in the river had weakened both of them, she realised. Will we make it? she wondered. Can we keep going until we get to the place where they’re keeping Ujurak?
Side by side Lusa and Kallik padded to the riverside and lapped a few mouthfuls of the water.
‘Which way now?’ Kallik asked. ‘Do you know where the metal bird went from here?’
Lusa sighed. ‘I’m not sure any more, but I think it’s this way.’ She pointed with her snout. ‘Otherwise, why did the spirits tell us to cross the river?’
‘That makes sense,’ Kallik agreed, trudging off in the direction Lusa indicated.
Lusa followed, splashing and slipping through the mud as she and her friend scrambled up the hillside at the far end of the valley and started down the other side. Her belly was shrieking with hunger, but in all the bleak landscape she couldn’t see anything to eat.
‘I’m starving,’ she grumbled, half to herself.
‘Me too,’ Kallik said. ‘And there’s not even a sniff of prey.’
Lusa snorted. ‘I bet all the prey is too sensible to be out in this rain. They’ll be hiding in their burrows.’
‘I wish we were too, but we can’t.’ Kallik sighed. ‘If only it would stop.’
Far from stopping, the rain was growing heavier, pouring down in a silver-grey screen that blotted out their view of the land ahead. The she-bears stumbled on, their belly fur caked with mud and their pelts soaked and dripping, clinging to their frames. Lusa couldn’t remember ever being so cold and tired.
We’ve got to find food, or we can’t go on.
She peered through the rain until she spotted a scattering of boulders poking out of the ground. Grunting with effort, she turned one over; her belly growled at the sight of worms and grubs wriggling around in the soil she had exposed.
‘Hey, Kallik! Over here!’
The white bear splashed towards her, and together they licked up the grubs, turning over all the stones that were small enough to move. There weren’t enough grubs for either of them to feel full, but having something in her belly made Lusa feel better.
Later they found a few berries, though Lusa guessed other bears had already scoured the bushes, leaving just the smaller, shrivelled fruit.
‘We really need meat,’ Kallik muttered. ‘Where’s Toklo when we need him?’
A long way away by now, Lusa thought. ‘Yes, he’d be able to catch something,’ she said aloud. ‘He was always better than us at scenting prey.’
The grey daylight finally faded. Lusa and Kallik spent the night uncomfortably squashed together in the scant shelter of an overhanging rock. By the following morning the rain had stopped, though clouds still covered the sky.
‘Today should be easier,’ Lusa declared, crawling out of their makeshift den and shaking her pelt to air it and get rid of the debris stuck to it. She still felt stiff and tired, but the pain of her bruises was beginning to fade and strength was returning to her legs. ‘At least it’s dry.’
‘And we can see where we’re going,’ Kallik agreed, emerging to sniff the air at Lusa’s side.
But the landscape ahead didn’t give much hope of prey. Rough open land stretched in front of them, scattered with ponds fringed with reeds. And even though the rain wasn’t falling any more, the ground underpaw was still muddy; Lusa’s paws sank into it at every step.
‘There won’t be any prey in this,’ she muttered.
‘I suppose we might find a frog or two,’ Kallik said with a sniff of disgust.
She had hardly finished speaking when a rabbit burst out of the reeds beside a pool and pelted across the grass. Lusa let out a yelp and hurled herself after it, with Kallik a pawstep behind. But Lusa’s legs still felt weak and shaky, and the rabbit easily outstripped them. She halted with a growl of frustration when she saw it dive down a hole.
‘We’re hopeless!’ she exclaimed.
As the day wore on, they didn’t spot any more prey. The ground was still too wet, and there was no sunlight to entice the creatures out into the open. Lusa’s legs were starting to ache, and she wondered how long she could keep going.
I’m not giving up! If K
allik can do this, so can I!
A stiff breeze began to blow, breaking up the clouds to let a gleam of watery sunlight through. It carried with it the scent of more rabbits; Lusa sniffed hungrily, but all she could see was a scattering of holes in the sandy bank they were passing. Like all the other prey, the rabbits were sheltering in the warmth of their burrows.
‘I wish we were on the ice,’ Kallik murmured, her attention on the horizon where the ocean lay hidden behind a ridge of broken rock. ‘I could hunt better there than on the land.’
Lusa halted, staring at the rabbit holes. ‘Show me,’ she suggested.
‘What?’ Kallik looked puzzled.
‘Pretend those rabbit holes are seal holes,’ Lusa explained, pointing with her snout at the bank. ‘Show me what you would do.’
‘OK.’ Kallik blinked, excitement creeping into her voice. Lusa guessed she had never expected to be able to use her ice skills on land.
Picking out a rabbit hole a little way away from the others, Kallik went on. ‘That’s a hole in the ice, OK? We’re going to creep up to it and crouch down beside it and wait. We have to be very quiet and not move around, or the seal – sorry, the rabbit – will realise we’re there.’
‘OK, let’s do it,’ Lusa whispered.
She followed Kallik as the white bear crept over to the hole and lay down beside it with her muzzle on the ground. Lusa could hardly believe that a bear as big as Kallik could move so quietly. She did her best to copy her friend, easing herself to the ground on the opposite side of the hole, pleased when she didn’t make a sound.
‘This is fun!’ she exclaimed, wriggling to get comfortable. ‘It’s almost like playing with Yogi in the Bear Bowl!’
‘Shh!’ Kallik hissed.
Lusa mouthed Sorry! and settled down to wait.
Soon Lusa felt that the moments were dragging by. I never expected it would take as long as this. I can’t believe Kallik is so patient!
She was convinced that some sort of bug was crawling around in her fur, but when she lifted a paw to scratch it Kallik gave her such a fierce look that she froze into stillness again. The wind blew cold through her pelt and a blade of grass tickled her nose so that she wanted to sneeze. She wanted to give up, but she didn’t dare suggest it while Kallik was so focused on the hole.