So many strange creatures! And that was only what she could see from here—she could tell that the path continued on in each direction, and that the sky reached farther than she’d ever imagined. She knew from the other bears’ stories that there must be forests and mountains and other bears beyond the Bowl walls. But she hadn’t realized quite how many other kinds of animals were out there…or how far the world reached.
Lusa sniffed the wind for a moment, inhaling the wild mixture of unfamiliar scents. Then she scrambled back down the tree and ran over to Stella, trying to hold all the images in her head.
“Stella!” she cried, clambering onto the older bear’s back. Stella started awake with a grunt. Her fur was warm from the sunlight and had bits of grass in it from sleeping on the ground.
“Stella, quick!” Lusa said. “What kind of animal is sort of the color of the papaya fruit and has black stripes and big teeth and roars? And what kind of bird is tall and pink with skinny legs? And what kind of animal hangs from trees and has a squiggly tail like a worm but much longer? Are any of them like bears? Can they talk like bears? Have you ever met them?”
“Slow down, slow down,” Stella grunted. She pawed at her ears and studied Lusa. “Where did you see all this? Did you climb to the top of the Bear Tree?”
“I did!” Lusa exclaimed, capering in a circle. “It was so high and so exciting and what were those animals, do you know, do you know?”
“I know their names,” Stella said. “The striped cats are tigers, and the pink birds are flamingos.”
“Fla-min-gos,” Lusa repeated, setting the word in her mind.
“And the little climbers are called monkeys,” Stella went on. “But you should ask King about them if you want to know more. He lived in the wild, after all, and he may have met some of them out there.”
Lusa was intrigued. Stella loved telling stories, but for once she sounded like she thought King knew more than she did.
Lusa’s father was lapping up water from the small pool near the front wall, but he swung his head up as Lusa approached and studied her warily.
“Hello, Father,” Lusa said, nosing at his muzzle and scuffling her paws in the dirt. “Did you see me climb? Wasn’t I good?”
“I said you would be,” King said gruffly. He bent his head to the pool again. His long tongue flicked in and out as he drank.
“Will you tell me about what it’s like out in the wild?” Lusa asked. “I saw all these strange animals from the top of the tree. Stella says they’re called monkeys and tigers and fla-min-gos. Did you ever meet any tigers or monkeys?”
“No,” King growled. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“But—don’t you have any stories about living in the wild?”
“No, I don’t.” He stepped back and started padding over to the Mountains. Lusa followed along, trotting to stay at his heels.
“What about the big water?” she pressed. “Did you find any water that big out there? Did you ever go into the water like the flamingos? Could you swim?”
King raised himself up on his hind legs and clawed the air. “Black bears can swim like fish, climb like monkeys, and run like tigers. We are the kings of the forest. There is nothing that black bears can’t do!” He dropped back down to his paws and stood over Lusa, staring down so fiercely that she instinctively crouched lower.
“Stop asking me questions about the wild,” he growled. “You’ll never live there, so why go on and on about it? Leave me in peace.” He leaped up onto the nearest boulder and sat with his back to her.
Lusa backed away and slipped down the side of the Mountains to the Cave at the back. She huddled under the white stone ledge, feeling very confused. Did King hate it here? She’d never thought of the Bowl as being small before, but suddenly it felt as tiny as their watering dishes. She wanted to know what lay beyond the walls, beyond the strange animals and the long Fences and the gray paths. She wanted to see a real forest and some real mountains.
A cool black nose nudged her side, and Lusa looked around. Her mother, Ashia, pressed her muzzle to her daughter’s head. “Don’t be sad, little blackberry,” she said. “I saw you climbing that tree earlier. You did very well. Don’t mind King.”
“I only wanted to know things,” Lusa blurted out. “I just asked about the tigers and the monkeys, and he growled at me!”
“I know,” Ashia said. “He doesn’t really like talking. Not like you,” she teased.
“He said black bears are the kings of the forest,” Lusa said.
“That’s true,” Ashia agreed. “We’re not brightly colored like tigers or flamingos, and we don’t make a lot of noise like monkeys, so you might not know how important we are at first. But black bears are the best at being quiet and going unnoticed—and that’s how King likes to stay. He’s used to living on his own in the wild and fending for himself. He isn’t so good at being friends with other bears.”
“I like being friends with other bears,” Lusa said, leaning against her mother’s leg.
“Well, that’s all right, because you’re in here,” Ashia said, swatting away a fly with one of her large paws. “But if you were in the wild, like he was, you would need to stay away from other bears to stay alive.”
“Really?” Lusa said.
“Do you want to see what it’s like in the wild?”
“Yes!” Lusa gasped. Was there a way out of the Bear Bowl? Why hadn’t she heard about it before?
“Follow me, and keep quiet,” Ashia instructed. She crept out of the Cave and up the Mountains into the Forest. Lusa tried to put her paws exactly where her mother had put them, although her legs were much shorter so it was difficult. She stayed low and kept quiet, watching her mother’s fur shimmer brown and black in the sunlight.
“Stop,” Ashia whispered, lifting her nose. “Shh. Here comes a big tiger.”
Lusa curled her lip. “But we’re still in the Bear Bowl.”
“Not if you imagine we’re in a deep, dark forest surrounded by wild creatures,” her mother whispered back. “Now, can you smell that tiger?”
Lusa copied her mother and sniffed the air. There was definitely something coming. It wasn’t a tiger, though. It was Yogi! The two of them watched from the long grass as he ambled past them and went to scratch himself on the fence. Lusa stifled a huff of laughter. Even if she pretended really hard, there was nothing fierce and scary about Yogi.
Suddenly there was a movement in the Mountains. King was standing up to stretch.
“There’s another bear!” Ashia warned. “Up the tree!”
She leaped into the branches and swarmed up the trunk with Lusa right behind her. Lusa saw that her mother climbed the way King had taught her, moving swiftly and in quick leaps. It was even easier the second time, especially with her mother ahead of her. This was a good game, pretending the Bear Bowl was really a forest.
Lusa wondered if life in the wild was this exciting all the time. She perched on a branch beside her mother and looked down at the other bears in the Bowl. Maybe King was wrong. Maybe one day she would get to see the world beyond the Bowl. Maybe one day she really would live in the wild.
CHAPTER SIX
Toklo
The sky was streaked with pink and gold, and the shadows crept slowly through the forest like stalking bears. Night was falling, and under the trees Toklo rolled in the pine needles, pretending he was catching fish.
“Ha!” he growled, pouncing. “Got you!” He scrabbled in the snow and then leaped sideways, pinning down another pile of needles. “Got you, too!”
“Shh,” Tobi whimpered. “My ears hurt.” He was still lying in the same spot where he’d dropped after they ran up the hill from the grain spill. Toklo wished he had a brother who would play with him. He’d seen other grizzly cubs wrestling with one another. That would help him learn how to fight, and it would be fun. But Tobi was always too tired, or something hurt, or Oka wanted him to rest.
Leaves and dirt flew up as their mother dug a den for them
in the snowbank. It was shallow but it helped keep them warm when they curled up together. Toklo thought his mother seemed calmer now that she’d made the decision to go over the mountain. He was glad. He didn’t like it when she roared at him and Tobi and tore up grass.
“We’re going to sleep early tonight,” she told them. “We’ll need a lot of rest for our long trek tomorrow.”
Tobi shuddered, pressing himself into her fur, but Toklo batted at her paws.
“Will you teach me how to catch salmon?” he pestered.
“Well, it’s not the way you were playing at it today, that’s for certain,” she snorted. “All that jumping and yowling. They’d hear you coming the moment you set paw in the river.”
“Then what should I do?”
“You start by wading out into the shallows,” she said. “Stand with your back to the current. You’ll see the salmon slithering past your paws. If you are still for a moment, they’ll come right to you. And then, if you’re quick”—she cuffed Toklo with one of her paws, but he could tell she wasn’t trying to hurt him—“then maybe you’ll catch one.”
“I will!” Toklo declared. “I’ll have the fastest paws in the river. I’ll catch more salmon than any other bear!” More than Tobi, that’s for sure!
“Well, that depends on the water spirits,” Oka said. “They won’t want to hear you bragging, especially if you don’t treat them with respect.”
“Are we going to meet the water spirits?” Tobi whispered with big eyes. They’d both heard this story from Oka many times—how the spirits of dead bears lived in the rivers, flowing endlessly with the salmon that had fed them in life. But they had never seen water big enough or fast enough to hold spirits in it.
“That’s not how it works, little one,” Oka said to Tobi. Toklo hated the way her voice got all gentle and mushy whenever she spoke to his brother. “The spirits are always there, and they may speak with you or they may not. But you don’t exactly meet them.”
“I remember!” Toklo said. “You have to say thank you to them so they will help you.”
“Yes,” Oka said. “If they are angry, they’ll make choppy waves in the water so it’s hard to catch any fish. But if they are friendly…if they like you…they will guide the salmon right to your paws.”
“How do you—” Toklo began.
“That’s enough questions for tonight,” Oka said. She touched her nose to Tobi’s pelt, sniffing his fur. His eyes were already closed and he was breathing shallowly. Toklo knew she wanted him to stop talking so Tobi could sleep. But even that didn’t dampen his mood. Tomorrow they were going over the mountain!
Up ahead, through the shadows of the trees, Toklo could see sunlight glittering on ice. They had been traveling since dawn, climbing up through the forest toward the mountain peak. Now he could see the bare, rocky slope of the mountain where the trees thinned out and the only bits of greenery were scrubby bushes and patches of moss.
He glanced back at Oka and Tobi, shuffling through the forest behind him. Oka stopped now and then to nose at the ground and push something edible over to Tobi. Toklo had nibbled some clover before they set out, but he was too excited to eat now. Impatiently he galloped ahead toward the sunshine and burst out into a wide, sunlit meadow. It was not far from here to the rocks—and then they’d be on the mountain!
His mother and brother caught up to him, and Oka lifted herself onto her hind legs, too, sniffing the air. “Quick, let’s keep moving,” she said, dropping down to all fours again.
They trotted through the meadow at a steadier pace. Even Tobi kept up, staying close to Oka’s paws and only stumbling a couple of times. Soon Toklo felt hard rock below his paws instead of dirt and grass. They scrambled up a short ledge and found themselves facing a landscape of snow and boulders reaching up into the sky.
The snow was deeper than Toklo expected, and of course Tobi immediately fell into a large drift. Whimpering, he floundered around with his paws until Oka came and dragged him back onto more solid ground. Toklo didn’t want the others to know, but he was having some trouble with the icy rocks, too. His claws couldn’t get a good grip on the slippery frozen ground, and he found himself sliding and skidding instead of leaping gracefully from boulder to boulder as he wanted to.
But it didn’t matter. He was thrilled to be climbing, to be out in the sun, to be away from the firebeasts and snakebeasts and their noise and terrible smells. Up here the wind brushed through his fur, bringing the scent of prey and snow and other bears from far in the distance. The sunbeams were warm on his back, and his muscles felt like they were moving and stretching in new ways as he learned how to climb…traveling like a true bear for the first time.
He spotted a stick poking out of a large patch of snow and, with a happy growl, he dove on it, clamped his jaws around it, and shook it hard.
“Rarrgmph!” he roared, his voice muffled by his mouthful of stick. “Mmm, I’ve caugmht a sagmlmon!”
“Oh, really?” his mother said, swinging her head around to look at him. “Well, you’d better hang on to it, then, because I hear that fish”—she began to stalk toward him—“can be…very…slippery!” Suddenly pouncing, she grabbed the stick from his paws and galloped away.
“Hey!” Toklo yelped. He leaped after her, landing on her back and knocking her sideways. They rolled in the snow, each of them scrabbling for the salmon stick. Toklo’s joy expanded until it filled him from the top of his ears to the tips of his claws. His mother hardly ever stopped to play with him. He loved the feel of her fur tickling his nose and the strength of her paws batting him around. He knew she was holding back so she wouldn’t hurt him, and that made him feel protected and safe.
“Aha!” he shouted triumphantly, wrestling the stick away from her. “It’s mine! I win!”
“I don’t think so,” she growled, chasing after him.
“Mother!” Tobi bleated from the rock where he was cowering. “Mother, I feel sick.”
Oka skidded to a halt, kicking up snow that spattered over Toklo’s back. She rushed back to Tobi and sniffed him all over. Grumpily flicking snow out of his ears, Toklo followed. He was sure Tobi was just trying to get attention. When didn’t Tobi feel sick? Couldn’t he just sit for a little while and let Toklo have some fun?
“We have to keep moving,” Oka said. She sounded different now, tense and scared and angry. “We have to get over the mountain before it gets dark. Come on.”
She nudged Tobi to his paws and hovered over him like a shadow as he struggled over the rocks and ice. Toklo realized that Tobi smelled strange. A sharp, rotten scent hung around his fur, and his eyes looked cloudy and confused. Toklo took one more sniff and stayed his distance.
“I can’t,” Tobi whimpered, collapsing onto his belly. He covered his nose with twitching forepaws.
“You can do it, Tobi,” Oka murmured. Her voice was gentle now, just like it always was with Tobi. “Just a bit farther. Come on, stand up and take a pawstep. One after another, and you’ll get there. A journey is nothing but a river of pawsteps. You can take one pawstep, can’t you?”
“Noooooooooooo,” he moaned.
Toklo sighed. This wasn’t going to get them anywhere. His ears perked up. If they were staying put for a while anyway…He ran over, grabbed the stick in his teeth, and ran back to his mother.
“Uh-oh!” he cried. “It’s getting away from me!” He threw his head back and flung the stick into the air. It clattered to the ground at his mother’s paws.
“Not now, Toklo,” Oka snapped. “We’ve wasted too much time already. We must get down the mountain to the river before nightfall.” She grunted crossly. “We shouldn’t have stopped to play.”
Toklo felt his fur stand on end with frustration. Now his mother was angry at him. Yet again, Tobi had ruined his fun.
“Sweetpaws,” Oka murmured to Tobi. “Little cub, be brave for me. Just climb onto my back and I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”
“A-all right,” Tobi agreed weakly. He pu
shed himself up and then climbed onto Oka’s back, lying there as limp as a dead leaf.
Toklo snorted. He wondered whether he’d be given a ride if he moaned all the time. He didn’t think so. After all, he wasn’t precious Tobi. Oka set off at a brisk pace and Toklo struggled along behind her, trying not to hear the concerned murmurs his mother kept whispering to her sickly cub.
Climbing didn’t seem so much fun anymore. The wind was no longer full of warm, exciting smells; instead it was cold, and it seemed to bring darkness and whirls of snow. The sun was dropping toward the edge of the sky, and the shadows were getting longer and longer, reaching out for Toklo like creeping water spirits. His paws were aching and cold, and his claws stung from being scraped against rocks all day. Even the strong muscles of his shoulders were in pain, but still his mother pressed on, leaping over patches of ice and sharp stones that Toklo was too small to avoid.
The sun had nearly vanished all the way when Toklo stopped, exhausted.
“Mother,” he called. Oka, halfway up the slope ahead of him, turned and looked back but kept moving. “Mother,” he called again, “when are we going to stop?”
“We can’t stop,” came the reply, bouncing off the rocks all the way down to the bottom of the mountain.
Ever? Toklo thought, with a twinge of fear. They couldn’t go on like this all night. His head was spinning, and he was afraid that in the dark he’d stumble and fall off the mountain…and that his mother wouldn’t even notice. As long as she has Tobi, she doesn’t care about me, he thought bitterly.
He took a deep breath and shoved himself up the slope, using every last bit of energy he had to get up to where his mother was. The snow was very deep and he almost had to swim through patches of it, but he pressed on, unable to feel his paws anymore because they were so cold. Finally he caught up to his mother, scrambled around in front of her, and stood in her way.
“Toklo,” she growled. “I told you we don’t have time to play.”
“I don’t want to play!” Toklo protested. “I want to rest! We’ve been climbing all day!”