Great Bear Lake (10 page)

Lusa trotted along beside Ujurak. The
sun had risen high in the sky, its light dancing on the surface of the river and turning the bears' brown fur to a glowing russet. They padded in the same direction as the water, weaving their way through undergrowth a couple of bearlengths from the stone path, so as not to draw the attention of the firebeasts.

Lusa stifled a yawn. The night hadn't been nearly long enough to get proper sleep; she was tired and still hungry. For a few heartbeats she longed to be back in the Bear Bowl, but it felt a long, long way away. Too far to ever go back.

Was I right to come? Toklo won't even listen to what I want to tell him. Maybe he's right, and black bears and brown bears shouldn't live together
.

“See that herb over there?” Ujurak interrupted her thoughts. He flicked his ears toward a tall plant with long dark leaves and yellow flowers. “It's good for healing wounds and scratches. Toklo found some for me when the flat-faces shot me with their deathsticks.”

Lusa trotted over and sniffed the herb; it had a bitter,
pungent smell. “Can you eat it?” she asked hopefully.

Ujurak let out an amused huff. “No, you chew up the leaves and put the paste on the wound. It's not good to eat.”

“I wish it was. I'm starving,” Lusa complained. “How do you know which plants are good for healing and which are good for eating?” she added curiously.

Ujurak paused, his eyes fixed on something far away. “I don't remember,” he said at last with a shrug. “I guess my mother taught me.”

“Where did you live with your mother?” Lusa asked, as they padded on after Toklo. “Were there other bears around?”

Ujurak shook his head. “I don't know.” He pointed to another plant. “We can eat those, though they're not proper food for bears.”

The leaves of these plants had a bluish tinge in the sunlight; they grew thickly, in big clumps. Lusa gave them a cautious sniff, then pulled off a couple of small leaves and chewed them. They crunched pleasantly between her teeth, but the taste was bland.

“Ugh!” She curled her lip. “Berries would be better.”

“We should still eat some,” Ujurak told her, coming up beside her and tearing off a mouthful of his own. “They'll help keep us going.”

Unwillingly Lusa kept on munching; the plants didn't seem to fill her belly at all, and the stringy stems caught in her teeth.

We have to find some better food soon,
she thought.

Toklo ignored the plants completely. Instead, he grubbed among the roots of a nearby tree, and came back to them with
earth around his snout. Lusa hoped he had been eating insects and not soil, but she didn't say anything.

“There's another eagle up there.” Ujurak pointed upward with his snout as they set off again. “I felt so strong, flying on the eagle's wings,” he murmured almost to himself; Lusa had to pad close to his side to hear him. “Its mind was like a claw, reaching out for prey. But there wasn't much worth catching. Flat-faces everywhere. No wild, empty spaces anymore.”

“What about the mountains?” Lusa reminded him. “There was lots of space up there.”

“But flat-faces still come.” Ujurak's voice was faint, as if he was imagining that he soared on eagle's wings. “Once, eagles thought the world belonged to them. Now they struggle for every kill.”

While they were talking, Toklo had drawn several bearlengths ahead; the ground sloped gently downward and thick bushes crowded up to the edge of the stone path. Lusa could barely make out the big cub's brown pelt among the undergrowth. Suddenly he stopped and looked back. “Are you coming or not?” he called.

“Yes, wait for us!” Lusa called out, and scampered after him with Ujurak hard on her paws.

Soon after sunhigh, the stone path split into many smaller tracks, and the walls of flat-face dens began to appear among the trees.

“Whoa!” Toklo halted so abruptly that Lusa nearly barged into him. “We can't go this way.”

Ujurak padded up beside him, peering curiously at the den walls and giving the air a cautious sniff. “It smells of firebeasts,” he murmured.

Lusa's paws tingled with anticipation. The two brown bears had hardly ever been close to flat-faces; they had no idea of the delicious food you could find in their big silver cans. Taking a deep sniff, Lusa thought she could pick up tantalizing hints of something good to eat.

“We should keep going,” she declared. “I know where there's food.”

Toklo glared at her. “Are you bee-brained? Bears don't go near flat-faces. Do you want them shooting at us with their deathsticks?”

“They won't, not if we're quiet and clever. I'll show you how.”

“Like I want a black bear showing me anything,” Toklo huffed. “We're going back into the woods. I'll catch us some prey there.”

He turned and padded off into the undergrowth; Ujurak followed, and Lusa had to go after them, casting a longing glance over her shoulders.
It's Toklo who's bee-brained. I
know
I can find food there!

Once the flat-face dens were out of sight again, Toklo motioned Lusa and Ujurak to a hollow underneath a huge pine tree. “Wait here. I'll bring back some prey.”

Lusa settled down, glad to be off her paws for a while. She could still hear the distant roar of firebeasts and pick up their harsh scent. She couldn't give up the idea of finding food in
the silver cans that flat-faces kept outside their dens.
We'd have to wait until dark anyway,
she figured, glancing thoughtfully at Ujurak, who was snoozing with one paw over his nose.

Her head filled with thoughts of slipping off by herself while the others slept, and coming back with enough food to satisfy them all.
Toklo couldn't call me weak then!
But a pang of fear shook her like wind in a tree: Suppose they woke up while she was away, and went on without her?

The long day was drawing to an end before Lusa heard rustling in the undergrowth. She sat up, prodding the sleeping Ujurak, ready to flee in a heartbeat; then she relaxed as Toklo pushed his way out of the bushes with a single ground squirrel dangling from his jaws.

“Is that all you could catch?” she asked, dismayed.

“There's no prey anywhere,” Toklo growled as he dropped the squirrel on the edge of the hollow. “The flat-faces must have scared it all away.”

Ujurak got up and pressed his snout against Toklo's shoulder. “This'll be fine,” he said. “We'll manage.”

But the squirrel was old and scrawny; shared between the three of them, it was only a couple of dry mouthfuls each. Lusa's belly was still complaining when she had finished.

“
Now
will you try my plan?” she asked.

Toklo muttered something she didn't catch.

“We can't go on without food.” Ujurak still sounded doubtful. “Maybe Lusa's right, and we should try the flat-face dens.”

The big grizzly cub hesitated for a heartbeat, then shrugged.
“All right. But if it goes wrong, don't blame me.”

Lusa took the lead as they padded back toward the dens in the gathering twilight. Her paws tingled with a mixture of excitement and fear.
I have to make this work!

At last the cubs reached the edge of the stone path that separated them from the flat-face dens. Lusa stepped out confidently onto the hard surface; at the same moment a harsh beam of yellow light swept over her and a squealing firebeast rounded the corner. She leaped back just in time, feeling its hot sticky wind ruffle her fur as it passed. Her heart thudded hard enough to hurt; she almost wanted to turn back, but she knew Toklo and Ujurak were watching her.
I'll never hear the end of it if I give up now
.

Scared and embarrassed, she muttered, “Sorry,” and looked both ways cautiously before venturing across, with Toklo and Ujurak close behind her.

On the other side of the stone path she followed the flat-face wall until she came to a gap blocked by wooden bars. Peering through, she saw an open, grassy enclosure at the back of a flat-face den; two of the big silver cans stood invitingly near the door.

Lusa sniffed, and her mouth started to water as she took in the tempting scents. “There's food in there,” she said, dipping her head toward the cans. “Can you smell it?”

Ujurak nodded, but Toklo beckoned Lusa toward him with a jerk of his head. She padded over, blinking to get a piece of grit out of her eye. The firebeast had spat it at her as it roared past.

“We can't go in there,” Toklo growled. “There's nowhere to hide.”

Lusa let out an exasperated sigh. Did Toklo think the flat-faces were going to come out and give the food to him? They could only get the food if the enclosure around the den was empty. Didn't he know anything about flat-faces? Maybe he didn't. Maybe proper bears, bears who had always lived in the wild, didn't have to know about getting food from flat-faces. She felt her shoulders sag.

“Okay,” she said. “We'll find somewhere better.”

Silently they crept farther along the wall. The next gap opened to reveal an enclosure edged with thick bushes; the grassy space between them had another thicket in the very middle. Two more silver cans stood by the door, giving out more tasty smells.

“This is better,” Lusa whispered. At least there were places to hide. Was that what a proper bear would look for?

Without waiting for Toklo to disagree, she clambered over the wooden bars and pushed her way underneath the nearest bush. Peeking out, she saw that one window of the den was lit, casting slices of yellow light on the grass, but thin, sharp-edged pelts were pulled across most of the gap; the flat-faces inside wouldn't be able to see her.

She shifted over to give Toklo and Ujurak more space as they wriggled under the branches to join her.

“Now what?” Toklo grumbled, squirming to unhook a twig from his ear.

“I'll go open the cans,” Lusa replied. “You two watch what
I do, then you can try next time.”

She slid out of the bushes and crept across the grass, keeping the central thicket between her and the den. She was more confident now; it felt good to be taking the lead and showing the others what she could do. When she reached the main clump of shrubs, she paused to check out the den. Flat-face voices came faintly from it, but the door and windows were all closed. Lusa emerged from her hiding place and padded across the grass to the silver cans.

Prying up the lid of the first can with her claws, she managed to lower it to the ground with no more than a few scraping noises. She cushioned the can with her paws, so it wouldn't give her away by clanging when she tipped it over. Two bulging shiny black skins tumbled out. Her mouth watering from the delicious smells that wreathed around her, Lusa ripped into one of the skins.

Among the flat-face trash she spotted a few of the potato sticks she had found before. Shoving her snout inside the skin, she crunched them up, reveling in the strong, fatty taste. Guilt swept over her as she remembered Toklo and Ujurak; glancing over her shoulder, she could make out their eyes gleaming from the edge of the bushes.
But there weren't many sticks,
she excused herself.
Not enough to share
.

Lusa investigated the other skin, but there was nothing in there good for bears to eat. She turned to the second can, but this time the lid was stuck; when she tugged at it with her claws it shot off unexpectedly, clattering down on the path beside the door.

Lusa froze, her ears flattened. Before the noise had died away, a dog started barking inside the den. All Lusa's instincts told her to flee. But she couldn't leave without finding something for her friends to eat. She tipped the silver can over, not caring this time whether it made a noise or not.

The door of the flat-face den flew open. A long-legged flat-face stood there shouting; a small white dog shot out from behind him, yapping.

Over the noise, Lusa heard Toklo barking, “Get out of there! Now!”

Panicking, she clawed at the skin inside the second can. A chicken carcass rolled out; she grabbed it up and raced across the grass toward the gap in the wall. With the dog snarling at her paws, she flung herself over the wooden bars and found Toklo and Ujurak pressed against the wall outside, their eyes huge with alarm.

“Come on!” Toklo huffed. His claws scraped on the stone path as he turned and led them back the way they had come. Lusa glanced behind her; to her relief, the dog was standing in the gap as if an invisible wall stopped it from stepping onto the stone path. Its ears were flattened and it was still yapping furiously. There was no sign of the flat-face, though Lusa heard a clattering sound as if the silver can was being picked up.

“Keep up!” barked Ujurak, and Lusa realized she had fallen behind the others. She put on an extra burst of speed and caught up to them at the edge of the stone path. There was no time to check for firebeasts; they raced across, and Lusa
winced as her paws sank into sticky mud where the sun had melted the black stone. She hopped on three paws, trying to pull the mud off with her teeth, but the stench made her eyes water and her muzzle ended up as sticky as her paw.