Great Bear Lake (3 page)

“Toklo!” Ujurak squealed.

Another harsh squawk sounded close above his head. The mother eagle had gained height and was swooping down on him, talons extended; Toklo jumped back from the edge just as he felt the wind of her wings in his fur. Looking up, he saw that the other eagle, the one Lusa had spotted, was plummeting down to join his mate. Toklo huffed in alarm when he realized how big they were close-up.

“Get back!” he ordered the others.

Ujurak shoved Lusa into a cleft between two rocks, and squashed himself in after her. Toklo stood in front of them, rearing up on his hindpaws to swipe at the second eagle. The bird veered off with a furious screech. His wings split the air like thunder and a long brown feather floated down the side of the mountain.

Toklo glanced back at Ujurak. He was huddled in the cleft with Lusa peering over his shoulder, her eyes full of terror.

“Come on, run,” he barked. “Before they come back.”

He waited until the two cubs were scurrying along the ledge ahead of him before he followed, ears alert for the sound of beating wings and shoulders braced for talons digging into his pelt. But the eagles' cries grew fainter. As the ledge widened out and became a gully among rocks, Toklo looked back to see both eagles hovering above their nest. The mother bird settled again on the untidy pile of sticks, while her mate soared
into the sky, keeping beady watch over his family.

“That was close,” Toklo muttered.

“You were terrific!” Lusa's eyes shone in admiration.

Embarrassed by her praise—after all, he had been scared by the eagles, too—Toklo shrugged. “I wish we could have gotten the eggs.”

Ujurak gave him a friendly nudge. “I'm glad you didn't try. They weren't worth being pushed off the ledge.”

By now the sun was gone and only a few red streaks remained in the sky. Toklo led his companions a little farther, until it was too dark to travel safely. There was nowhere to shelter so they huddled together in the gully with the wind whining among the rocks above.

Toklo felt as if he had hardly closed his eyes before the rays of the sun woke him the next morning. On they trekked, keeping to the Sky Ridge, looking down on forests and streams glinting in the sunshine. Up here, the clouds were almost close enough to touch. Sometimes they settled on the Sky Ridge and everything went misty and cold.

“Is this what flying is like?” Lusa asked Ujurak.

Ujurak shook his head. “I never flew into any clouds. I flew when the sky was clear. It's like plunging into a river of air, full of currents, warm in some places, cold in others. You have to swim from one current to the next, scooping the air with your wings until it lifts you up.”

His eyes glazed as if he could feel the currents of air all around him once again. Lusa was staring at him in fascination, her paws twitching on the rock as if she wanted to scoop
the air, too. Toklo sighed. Cobwebs and moonshine, that was what filled these cubs' heads.
And cobwebs catch no prey
.

 

Every day, Toklo saw the sun rise in the sky on one side of the mountains and slide slowly down on the other. The days of burn-sky were growing longer and warmer, and although Toklo would have been grateful for the fuller days of hunting down in the forest, up here on the Sky Ridge there was little prey to catch.

Soon they began to rest in the middle of the day, finding a patch of shade to drowse and lick pads that were sore from traveling over the jagged rocks. Ujurak was always the first to jump up and make them keep going.

“It's as if there's something waiting for us,” he explained with a puzzled look in his eyes. “I don't know what it is, but I know we shouldn't be late.”

Lusa seemed willing to be caught up in his urgency and Toklo went along with them, even though he didn't understand. Arguing with Ujurak wouldn't do any good. Besides, though he would never have admitted as much to the others, he liked being the one who was big and strong enough to haul them up the steepest rocks, or let them clamber onto his back to climb over huge boulders. He liked being the best hunter; once he brought down a skinny grouse as it tried to fly off, and felt as if he was giving the others a feast.

At one point the Sky Ridge became so spiky that the bears had to leave it and follow a path a few bearlengths down the mountainside.

Ujurak's paws dragged. “I don't like this,” he complained. “We should stay at the top.”

“We'll go back when the path gets smoother,” Toklo promised. “You might want your pads bleeding, but I don't.”

Even so, as he led the way along the new path, Toklo realized that he didn't like it, either. Something was wrong; he kept glancing around for any sign of danger, his ears pricked and his nose quivering. All he could sense was rock and water and the thin scent of sparse mountain plants, but something close to fear made his fur stand on end. His paws tingled, and he jumped when several loose stones rattled past them.

“What was that?” Lusa whimpered.

Toklo was furious with himself for letting Lusa see that he was startled. He shrugged. “Nothing. Come on.”

“We should climb a tree,” she said.

Toklo swept a glance across the rugged mountainside. “Do you see any trees?” he demanded. “Bee-brain.”

Lusa flinched. “I just thought—”

She stopped as howling broke out behind and above them. Toklo saw four lean shapes crest the ridge and stand outlined for a moment against the reddening sky.

“Wolves!” he snarled. For a heartbeat he wanted to turn and fight, but there were too many of them—more than he could count on his paws. They were thin and savage with hunger. And after so many days of near-starvation, Toklo knew he wasn't strong enough to fight them off. “Head for the valley!”

“But it's the wrong way!” Ujurak protested.

“Run!” Toklo barked. He shoved Ujurak in front of him
as he launched himself down the slope, not waiting to see if Lusa was following. Silently he cursed the wind; it was blowing away from them, carrying their scent to the wolves.

Beside him, Ujurak stretched out his neck and ran, leaping from rock to rock with his stubby tail bouncing on his flanks. Toklo glanced back to see that Lusa was keeping pace just behind him, her legs a dusty black blur.

The wolves streaked down the mountain, silent now, fast as floodwater. Beside Toklo, Lusa stumbled.
Perhaps she'll fall back,
he thought.
Then Ujurak and I can outrun the wolves
. But something inside him wouldn't let him abandon the black cub to be torn apart. With a fierce growl he dropped back until he was behind her and gave her a shove. Lusa lost her footing and skidded headlong for several bearlengths, scattering grit and pebbles. She crashed to a halt against a rock, then scrambled to her paws and pelted on. There were streaks of red on the rocks behind her; her pads were bleeding, leaving a scarlet, meat-smelling trail.

The valley with its covering of trees was growing closer. But the wolves' howling was closer still. Toklo didn't dare look back again, but he could imagine their hot breath ruffling his fur. He gazed around frantically for somewhere to hide, and spotted where the stream plunged into deep undergrowth.

“Over here!” he gasped to Ujurak. “The water will hide our scent.”

Ujurak didn't reply. Without slackening his pace, his legs began to stretch and his fur seemed to melt away until it was a sleek pelt of chestnut-brown hair covering a slender, agile
body. Small buds appeared on his head and sprouted into branching antlers. In the shape of a mule deer Ujurak swung around and faced the oncoming wolves.

“Ujurak!” Toklo yelled. A young mule deer, plump and grass fed, would be even tastier prey for the pack.

The Ujurak-deer hesitated for no more than a moment. Then he sprang away, heading along the slope above the tree line.

Lusa skidded to a halt and stood with her mouth hanging open. “He changed again!”

Toklo slammed into her and pushed her into the stream. “Get under the bank!”

She toppled in with a noisy splash, spluttering and shaking her head. The water came up to her belly fur. She scrambled for a foothold on the pebbles and clawed her way to the edge of the stream, where the bank hung over the water, casting a thick, cold shadow onto the ripples.

Toklo slithered down the bank and thrust himself beneath the overhang behind her, flinching at the icy bite of the water, and held his breath to listen even though his chest felt like it was on fire. For a few moments he could hear the patter of the deer's hooves on the rock, and the wolves racing after it, howling, their belly fur brushing the ground as they gave chase. Then the sounds died away until all Toklo could hear was the gurgling of the stream and the rasping of his own breath and Lusa's.

They were standing in the stream with water swirling close to their bellies. The current had scoured out a hollow at the
side; grasses trailed down from the bank above and branches dipped down to the surface of the stream. For now they were safe.

But instead of relief, Toklo felt rage building in his chest. He let out a low growl.

“What's the matter?” Lusa asked.

“Ujurak.” The word came out as a furious snarl. “Why won't he listen? I
told
him what to do….”

The wolves will tear him in pieces
. A mule deer couldn't possibly outrun a pack of wolves.

“He'll be okay,” Lusa reassured him.

“You don't know that,” Toklo snapped.

“I'm sure he'll be—”

“Quiet!” Toklo snarled.

In the shadows under the bushes Toklo could just make out the small black bear next to him, frightened and confused. He turned away, clamping his jaws shut. A dark place opened up inside him when he thought of the wolves springing on Ujurak, bringing him down, ripping at him with claws and fangs….
And I'm stuck here where I can't help him. He'll never make it on his own
.

His belly churning, Toklo forced himself to stay alert, his ears pricked as he tried to peer through the grasses that screened them. He could see and hear nothing but the gradually darkening woods and the splashing of the stream.
Ujurak, where are you?

Beside him he could feel Lusa shivering and hear her teeth chattering. He watched her from the corner of his eye and saw
her eyes roll upward as if she was about to lose consciousness. Was the silly creature going to collapse, as if they didn't have enough problems?

Toklo reached out with all his senses, but there was no sign of any threats nearby. “Okay,” he growled, giving Lusa a shove. “We can get out now.”

Lusa scrabbled at the bank, but Toklo had to give her another hard shove from behind before she hauled herself out of the stream and crouched shivering on the grass.

“You can't stay there,” Toklo told her. “We need to take cover.” He padded over to a clump of thornbushes near the bank. “Over here.”

Lusa raised her head and peered blearily at him, then struggled to her paws and stumbled across the grass until she could creep under the lowest branches. “I'm hungry,” she whimpered.

“So am I.” Toklo's belly was howling, but he knew he had to ignore it. “It's not safe to hunt yet. The wolves might still be around.”

Night had fallen and moonlight trickled through the branches above. Toklo struggled to stay awake; Lusa had long ago closed her eyes, and some bear had to keep watch. He tried to think of what they ought to do next, but the shock of losing Ujurak seemed to fill his mind with thick, choking earth.

Toklo jerked fully awake when he heard the sound of another animal pushing its way through the undergrowth.

Lusa's head shot up, her eyes stretched wide with alarm. “What's that?”

“I don't know. Keep quiet.”

Toklo took a few deep sniffs. The animal approaching was another bear. He braced himself for a fight, sinking his claws into the damp earth. Had they strayed past the clawmarks of an adult grizzly who would attack them for trespassing on his territory?

The rustling stopped; tensing his muscles, Toklo prepared to leap out.
But I'll never beat a full-grown grizzly. I can't keep myself safe, let alone Lusa
.

Then a voice came out of the darkness. “Toklo? Lusa? Are you there?”

Lusa jumped up with a happy squeal and wriggled underneath the lowest branches. “Ujurak, over here!”

A wave of relief crashed over Toklo. He pushed through the thorns to see Ujurak, back in his bear's shape, standing a couple of bearlengths away along the bank of the stream. Lusa was pressing her muzzle against Ujurak's. “Thank you for saving us.”

Toklo's relief was blotted out by anger, like storm clouds covering the sun. “I thought you were dead!” he roared. He paced forward until he could look Ujurak in the eye. “Didn't you hear me telling you to hide in the stream?” he growled.

“Yes, I know, but…” The cub sounded confused. “I wanted to be something fast enough to lead the wolves away. And then I felt myself changing.”