Lusa was staring at her paws when a tiny scrabbling noise came from inside the burrow. When the rabbit popped its head out, all she could do was stare at it. She had waited so long that she had forgotten what to do.
While she was still staring, Kallik pounced. One large white paw swiped the rabbit across the neck, then dragged it out of the hole.
‘That was brilliant!’ Lusa barked, springing to her paws. ‘Great catch!’
‘It was your idea,’ Kallik replied, but she sounded pleased.
With the rabbit dangling from her jaws she padded along the bank until she came to a shallow cave, just big enough for them to shelter from the wind and share their prey. Lusa followed and squashed in beside her, water flooding her jaws as she took in the rich, warm scent of rabbit. She forced herself not to gulp down all her share at once, aware that it might have to keep her going for a long time.
‘Wouldn’t Toklo be surprised?’ she said between mouthfuls. ‘I wish we could show him how to hunt like that.’
‘Me too,’ Kallik replied sadly.
Lusa nodded. ‘But we can show Ujurak,’ she insisted. ‘We’ll catch up to him soon. We’re not going to let the flat-faces keep him.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:
Toklo
Aspatter of rain roused Toklo in the middle of the night. The forest was dark; clouds had covered the sky and no gleam of moon or stars pierced the branches. Wind made the leaves thrash and set the branches to creaking.
At first no more than a few drops of rain fell, but gradually it grew heavier, sweeping on the wind into Toklo’s inadequate den. He squashed himself into the bottom, but his back was still exposed, and the branches of the tree gave him very little shelter. The rain began to soak his pelt, and tiny streams of water trickled into the den until he was crouched in a puddle.
This place is no good after all, he thought irritably. Tomorrow I’ll have to start searching all over again.
As soon as dawn light started to filter into the forest he left the den that had taken such effort to dig. The rain became heavier and heavier. His fur was water-logged, weighing him down, and at every pawstep he picked up clods of mud that made it hard to walk. His paws felt unsteady on the sodden ground, and he kept slipping into muddy holes. He was trying to search for shelter, but he could hardly see because of the water streaming down his face.
‘I’m bee-brained to be out in this,’ he grumbled, shaking his head in a vain attempt to get the rainwater out of his eyes. ‘I should be dry in a den, like any sensible bear.’
But he felt too wet and tired to start digging another den now. Besides, he had other, more urgent needs. He couldn’t remember when he had his last proper meal, and hunger was tearing at him like claws.
I’ll never catch anything while this rain keeps up, he thought wretchedly. All the prey will be hiding in their holes, and the scents are washed away. He sniffed as if to prove his point; all that he could smell was water, and the rich decaying scent of leaf mulch.
He was making his way along a slope where the trees thinned out toward the top of the ridge. Down below, the forest looked thicker, and Toklo guessed there might be more chance of shelter there. But as he veered down the slope he trod into a mudslide; he hadn’t seen it because of the driving rain. His paws shot out from under him and he rolled down the slope, flailing for a grip on the ground. Mud plastered his fur and filled his nose and mouth. He kept on scrabbling helplessly at the squelchy ground until he landed with a thump against the trunk of a tree.
Half stunned and exhausted, Toklo lay where he had fallen for a few moments, the rain sluicing through his fur. Part of him wanted to give up and lie there, but he knew that could be a big mistake. If more mud fell down the mountain, he could be buried alive. His muscles shrieked as he staggered to his paws; letting out a groan, he stumbled into the shadow of the trees.
The thicker foliage overhead kept some of the rain off him, but the ground underpaw was soaked and the undergrowth snagged his pelt and sent showers of water over him as he brushed past. He still couldn’t scent any prey.
Eventually he spotted a huge old tree with a cleft in the trunk, and forced his weary paws to head for it.
Shelter! It might not be big enough for a den, but it’ll do until the rain stops.
But before he reached the hollow tree, Toklo heard a roar of rage behind him. Something heavy slammed into him and knocked him off his paws. For a moment his face was smashed into the thick layer of leaf mulch that covered the forest floor. Twisting his neck, spitting out a mouthful of rotting leaves, Toklo saw a huge grizzly looming over him.
‘Wha–?’ he gasped, dazed.
‘This is my territory!’ the grizzly snarled. He bared his teeth and planted a paw on Toklo’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground. ‘No bear trespasses here.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t –’ Toklo began, only to break off as the bear gave him a sharp cuff on the side of his head.
With a massive effort Toklo pushed him away and scrambled to his paws as another blow landed on his back. His head was spinning, his eyes dazzled, and though he lashed out a paw in self-defence he was too dizzy to put any force behind it.
‘Get out, now!’ Snarling with rage, the other grizzly thudded into Toklo, pushing him further down the hillside.
‘OK, OK, I’m going!’ Toklo protested, slipping and scrabbling as he tried to get a firm pawhold on the muddy slope. ‘Keep your fur on!’
Half running, half sliding, he fled through the trees, glancing once over his shoulder to see the big grizzly standing on his hindpaws, watching him go. His roar of fury echoed through the forest; Toklo could still hear it even when the bear was out of sight.
He didn’t slow down until he thought he must have passed the edge of the grizzly’s territory. Panting, he stopped and looked around, relaxing when he couldn’t spot any trees with scratch marks.
As Toklo sniffed the air he picked up the scent of a BlackPath. He could hear the distant roaring of a firebeast and caught a glimpse of its glittering colour through the trees ahead of him. Cautiously he padded forward, pushing his way between clumps of fern and thornbushes until he reached the BlackPath that sliced through the forest in a straight line. It was quiet now. He listened, but the only sound was the rain and the shaking of the trees in the wind.
Then he heard the sound of another firebeast, growing rapidly louder. Roaring, it swept past Toklo as he scrambled away from the edge of the BlackPath. The firebeast’s huge black paws sent up a spray of tiny stones that stung Toklo as they showered over him.
‘Ouch!’ he yelped.
Running beside the BlackPath, raised a little way off the ground, was a long silver-grey tube. Toklo sniffed it suspiciously; it had a strong smell of firebeasts. It reminded him of the tube beside the Great River, where firebeasts and flat-faces had been digging up the ground, except this one was smaller, about as high as his shoulder.
Toklo’s head and shoulders still stung from the blows the big grizzly had given him, and his pelt was clumped with wet soil and debris.
Fed up with splashing through mud and struggling through undergrowth, Toklo began to pad along the edge of the BlackPath, relieved to be on firmer ground. He leaped back when the next firebeast roared past him, terrified that it would crush him beneath its rolling, hissing paws. To his relief, it didn’t turn towards him, but he was still pelted with stones and soaked by the surge of water that came from it.
I’ve had enough of this!
The shower of stones clattered on the metal tube, drawing Toklo’s attention back to it. He gave it another cautious sniff. Though the top of it was curved, it looked wide enough to balance on, and it was raised well above the mud.
Why not? It’s worth a try.
Heaving with his forelegs, Toklo managed to scramble on to the top of the tube and stood there for a moment until he was sure he could balance. Then he began padding along it, setting his paws down carefully so that he didn’t slip on the rain-wet surface. It made him
nervous to be so close to a flat-face thing, and the strong smell of firebeasts made him choke, but at least he wasn’t floundering through mud any longer. And the tube reminded him of the games he used to play with Tobi, balancing on fallen tree trunks when they were little cubs.
None of the firebeasts paid him any attention, and Toklo grew more confident as he realised that they couldn’t get at him while he was raised above the BlackPath like this.
Then an even louder roaring came from up ahead, and one of the biggest firebeasts Toklo had ever seen swept into view. He stopped to watch it as it bore down on him. Its huge paws pushed waves of rainwater aside as it growled along. As it passed Toklo, it flung up stones from its paws, clattering over the tube and stinging Toklo’s side like a swarm of hornets.
Toklo reared away, and his paws slipped on the smooth surface of the tube. He let out a roar of shock and fright as he toppled sideways and crashed into the undergrowth.
‘Bee-brain!’ he huffed after the departing firebeast. ‘Watch where you’re going!’
Struggling to his paws, he gagged on an even stronger reek of firebeasts, and realised that he had fallen into a sticky black pool. Drops of it were seeping from the tube, dripping on to the ground and puddling in a hollow beside the BlackPath. It was smeared all over Toklo’s fur, so that as he backed away from it the disgusting smell came with him.
It stinks! Growling in anger, Toklo pawed at the stuff to clean it off his fur, but that just transferred the sticky liquid to his paw. Yuck! What is it? It’s slimy and disgusting and it’s making me feel sick! What do I have to do to get rid of it?
His belly heaving with every breath, Toklo left the BlackPath behind, wandering down a slope into the trees and scraping his flank against the trunks in an effort to rub off the horrible stuff. Pain shot through one of his forelegs when he put weight on it, and he realised that when he fell he must have hurt it.
He kept an eye open for more scratch marks on trees, but apart from that Toklo limped along aimlessly. He hadn’t eaten all day, but when he tried to sniff for prey again, the stench of the black stuff on his pelt made it impossible to locate anything. He was growing exhausted; it was becoming harder and harder to put one paw in front of another. The pain from his injured leg grew worse.
Darkness was falling and still the rain didn’t let up. Toklo was stumbling along now, head down, unaware of where he was going. Then he suddenly smelled the scent of prey, even stronger than the stench of the black stuff, striking up from the ground in front of him. He had nearly padded over the half-eaten remains of a rabbit.
Toklo wondered if the big grizzly had killed the rabbit. He glanced around before he crouched in front of it and gulped it down in a few famished bites. It wasn’t enough to soothe the pangs of his hunger, and as he was nuzzling around among the debris to see if he had missed any scraps, the sky seemed to open up and the rain fell down ever harder than before.
‘Great spirits!’ Toklo groaned. ‘Have you got a grudge against me, or what?’
In the last of the light he spotted a hollow under the roots of a tree a few bearlengths away. Limping over to it on three legs, he crammed himself into the narrow space, laid his nose on his paws, and thank-fully let himself slip into unconsciousness.
Water dripping on his nose roused Toklo. Blinking, he lifted his head to see that grey daylight had returned to the forest. Water pattered from every leaf and twig, but the rain had stopped.
Toklo let out a low moan. Every muscle in his body protested as he dragged himself out of the den under the roots and tried to stand. Pain shot along his spine as he put his injured leg to the ground. His fur was still wet from the rain and sticky from the black stuff that had seeped from the tube; the stench of it caught in his throat. Even the rain hadn’t washed it away.
I can’t go on yet, he told himself. I need to rest.
Moving slowly, every step an effort, he clambered to the top of a boulder and looked around. Through the trees in one direction he caught a glimpse of the BlackPath with the silvery tube beside it, and heard the distant snarls of firebeasts. There was nothing else to tell him where he might be.
I hope I’m not in another bear’s territory, he thought, remembering the abandoned rabbit from the previous night. He might even have crossed back into the territory of the big grizzly who had driven him off the day before. I can’t fight or run in this state.
He dozed on top of the boulder, gradually warming up as his fur dried out and an occasional gleam of sunlight began to pierce the cloud cover and slide through the branches above his head. Near sunhigh, he summoned the energy to climb down and scrape himself against the trunk of a tree, getting rid of the worst of the foul-smelling stuff that was sticking to his pelt. To his relief, it came off more easily now that it was dry and hard.
Moving around had eased some of the stiffness in his injured leg. It wasn’t as painful now, but Toklo was still doubtful about trying to travel any distance on it. He spent the rest of the day wandering close to the boulder, finding some berry bushes that helped to quiet his rumbling belly.
As night fell, he curled up in the same cramped den under the roots. This isn’t a good place to stay, he decided as he drifted into sleep. Tomorrow I’ll look for somewhere better.
Waking the next day, he realised that the sky above the trees had cleared and sunlight was striking down into the forest. He felt hungry, but the day’s rest had given him new strength, and the pain in his leg had settled into a dull ache.
Toklo felt a lot more cheerful as he climbed through the trees until he had left the BlackPath far behind. As he rounded a thicket of thornbushes he surprised a squirrel nibbling on a nut among the roots of a tree, and killed it with a swift blow to its spine. Gorging himself on the warm prey, he shoved the hardship of the last few days out of his mind.
I’m a brown bear! I can cope with anything.
Eventually he emerged on the top of a ridge and padded along it, enjoying the sensation of wind ruffling his fur. This is more like it, he thought.
At last he realised that he was coming to the end of the ridge. He guessed that beyond it he would look down on the coastal plain again: there would be geese and hares to hunt, and maybe even caribou. His jaws watered and his paws itched as he imagined launching himself at his prey and using his strength and skill to pull it down.
But as the ground fell away beneath his paws, revealing the land beyond, Toklo stopped dead and stared in disbelief. The plain lay in front of him, just as he expected, with the ocean beyond, but it was very different from how he had imagined. Instead of the rich harvest of prey he had hoped for, the whole stretch of land was dotted with flat-face structures: low, flat-roofed dens and tall towers, as far as he could see in all directions. One of the towers had a bright flame spurting from the top. BlackPaths with tubes beside them, like the one he had followed, crossed the area from one flat-face denning place to another and led away into the distance. Nothing moved except for firebeasts, crawling along the BlackPaths.
Toklo took a step backwards, glancing over his shoulder in the direction he had come. I’d better go back, even if I have to meet that grizzly again.
But before he turned away, he heard a distant buzzing sound and spotted a metal bird rising into the sky from the far side of one of the denning places. He paused to watch as it flew towards him, the sun glinting on its hard, shiny pelt. It was flying low, heading for the stretch of open ground between the bottom of the ridge and the nearest of the flat-face structures.
Two tiny specks of movement on the ground caught Toklo’s eye. Two creatures were heading away from the ridge, towards the denning place: one black shape, one white. And the metal bird was swooping down on them, its metal wings clattering and its claws outstretched.
‘No!’ Toklo roared. ‘Kallik! Lusa! Watch out!’
Forgetting his exhaustion, forgetting his aching leg and sore paws, Toklo plunged down from the crest of the ridge and hurtled towards the plain to save his friends.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:
Kallik
Kallik and Lusa spent the night in the cave beside the rabbit holes and woke again in the first pale light of dawn. Kallik crawled out of the den, shaking sandy soil from her pelt, and watched Lusa, who stood a couple of bearlengths away, sniffing the air.
‘Which way?’ she asked.
Lusa hesitated for a moment. ‘I’m not sure,’ she confessed. ‘We’ve come such a long way; I can’t remember what direction the metal bird was flying.’
Kallik took a deep breath and smelled the familiar tang of the sea. Her paws itched with longing. ‘I think we should head for the shore,’ she murmured. ‘I might be wrong, but something seems to be telling me that’s the way to go.’
Lusa’s eyes shone. ‘Maybe the Bear Watcher is sending you a sign.’
Or maybe it’s just the ice calling me. But there was nothing to point them in a different direction, so they headed for the crest of the ridge. The sun rose as they trudged upward, warming their pelts. Kallik felt her muscles loosen and a tide of hope began to rise inside her; perhaps this would be the day when they were reunited with Ujurak.
The last bearlengths that brought them to the top of the ridge were a hard scramble over loose rock that shifted under their paws. Lusa was the first to reach the crest; she stood staring out at the land beyond, as still as a bear carved out of stone.
‘What is it?’ Kallik called, her paws slipping on pebbles a little way below.
‘You won’t believe this!’ the little black bear replied. ‘I don’t believe it, and I’m looking at it!’
With a bit more effort Kallik thrust herself up the slope until she could stand, panting, beside her friend. Her claws scraped hard against the rock and her heart began to pound as she gazed out across the plain.