River of Lost Bears (16 page)

“Mmmm.” Chenoa smacked her lips as she swallowed a mouthful of the sturgeon. “That's good.” Her eyes sparkled. She looked so different from the young bear Hakan had bossed around.

Lusa was watching the black bear with her head on one side. “Wouldn't you rather eat berries or grubs than fish?” she queried.

Chenoa shrugged. “My mother always fed us fish, so I guess I'm used to it. Berries are great when they're around, but you can always find fish in the river.”

Lusa shuddered. “You wouldn't say that if it was the only thing you could eat,
ever
.”

“What do you mean?” Kallik teased. “You had some delicious fat seals to eat, as well!”

Lusa made a face, and Chenoa huffed with amusement. “I'm so glad I'm here,” Chenoa said impulsively. “Thank you, all of you. I … I don't think I've ever felt more at home.”

It was a moving burst of honesty, and Kallik dipped her head to the black bear. Friends could feel like home, as well as family. She knew exactly what Chenoa meant.

She looked up and saw Yakone padding from the river, a pike flapping in his jaws. He dropped it and leaned down to give it a killing bite.
I just hope Yakone feels the same. If not now, then someday.

Lusa woke with a start. She
blinked open her eyes, surprised. Her wound wasn't throbbing. That hornwort really worked!

“You're awake at last.” Chenoa was sitting back on her haunches beside her. She looked up from grooming her belly and stretched her muzzle toward Lusa. “You slept well.”

Lusa glanced around the empty hollow. “Where is everyone?”

“Toklo took Yakone and Kallik hunting.”

“Didn't you want to go?”

“I didn't want you to wake up alone.”

Lusa sat up, careful not to scrape her wound on the pine needles. Moving didn't make it sting. She stood and stretched out one leg, then the other. “I'm better!”

“Let me check.” Chenoa sniffed Lusa's rump. “You've got a nice tough scab and no swelling.”

“Hornwort is great!”

“My mother taught me how to find it.” Chenoa snorted cheerfully. “Hakan was always getting into scrapes. Always trying to climb too high. Our mother used to say he thought he was a squirrel, not a bear. Then he'd lose his grip and tumble through the branches. He used to hit every one on the way down. They broke his fall, but scratched him worse than brambles.”

Lusa glanced at Chenoa, her heart twisting. How could she have happy memories of such a bully? Perhaps it was best that way. With luck, Chenoa would never see Hakan again. At least she could still think of him fondly. He was the only family she had left.
Apart from us, of course.

Lusa pushed herself to her paws. “Let's go for a walk.” She was feeling restless after too many days being carried.

Chenoa jumped up. “Where?”

Lusa glanced through the trees to the river, then back into the shadowy woods. The air was tangy with sap. Leaftime was near. “This way.” She set off along a stale-smelling fox track.
The fox must be holed up with cubs somewhere.
Lusa opened her mouth warily as she moved, tasting for fresh scents. She didn't want to surprise a mother fox looking for food. It could be vicious if they scared it accidentally. Wolverine bites were bad enough.

Chenoa trotted after her as Lusa pushed past a clump of ragweed and headed toward sunlight. The pines thinned and gave way to birch and trembling aspen. The fox scent faded and quillwort sprang up, shimmering like grass across the forest floor. Lusa relished the warmth of the sun dappling her back. She searched the trees for a friendly spirit face. “Look.” She halted.

Chenoa stumbled into her. “What?”

Lusa pointed to a lopsided knot halfway up an aspen trunk. “I bet he was grumpy when he was alive.”

Chenoa followed her gaze, squinting. “Who was?”

“The spirit in that tree,” Lusa whispered. “He's frowning even now.” She shook out her pelt. “I wouldn't sleep under his branches. He'd drop leaves on me.”

Chenoa made a face. “He does look a bit like a sore-paw.”

“Hush! He'll hear us.” Lusa hurried away.

Chenoa paused. “Look at that one!”

Lusa followed her gaze past the low branches of a birch. In the flaky bark, she saw a neat, round knot. “She must have been beautiful when she was alive.”

“Ew!” Chenoa's gaze flicked to the next tree. “
She
wasn't!” A lumpy old knot stuck out from the bark.

“Be quiet!” Lusa hissed. “You're going to get us into trouble.”

Chenoa waded through the quillwort. “Where are
your
family spirits?”

Lusa hurried after her. “My family is still alive.” Her belly ached with a small twinge of longing. “At least, I think they are. They're back in the Bear Bowl.”

Chenoa halted. “What's that?”

“It's where I lived before I escaped into the forest.”

“Escaped?”

“The Bear Bowl is a special place where bears are looked after by flat-faces.”

Chenoa blinked. “That sounds terrible!”

Lusa shook her head. “It was okay. They gave us food, and the Bear Bowl was pretty nice, and new flat-faces came every day.”

“Why?”

Lusa tipped her head. “I don't know. They just stared at us. Sometimes they gave us fruit.” She licked her lips, remembering.

“And you ate it?” Chenoa began pacing around Lusa, the fur pricking along her spine. “Did you trust them?”

“Why not?” Lusa started to feel defensive. “They never hurt us. They just looked at us.”

“Flat-faces are strange,” Chenoa decided.

“I guess,” Lusa agreed. “But they gave us everything we needed. We were safe. There weren't BlackPaths or mean old bears like Hak—” She stopped when she saw Chenoa's eyes narrow. “There were a few grumpy bears, of course. But they never attacked anyone.”

Chenoa searched Lusa's gaze. “Do you miss it?”

Lusa frowned. Her life there seemed so long ago. She'd traveled farther than she'd ever dreamed since then. “Sometimes. But I'm happier now.”

“Do you ever wish you could go back?”

“Why would I? I'm a wild bear now, like you. Would you want to live in a Bear Bowl?”

“No!”

White petals fluttered at the corner of Lusa's eyes. When she turned, she saw it was a butterfly. Scampering after it, she swiped the air.

Chenoa chased after her. “I bet I can catch it.” As the butterfly jerked upward, she jumped and clapped her paws together.

“You missed!” Lusa watched the white wings flicker away through the branches. “Look, buds!” A green haze enfolded the tree. “There'll be blossoms soon.”

Chenoa nudged Lusa. “And berries!” She bounded up a rise in the leafy forest floor. At the top, the leaves on a bush shivered as Chenoa stopped beside it. “Muskroot!” She sniffed at the leaves. “This'll have berries.”

Lusa hurried to look. White flowers peeped out among the leaves. “Will they be eating-berries?”

“Oh, yes. They're delicious.”

Lusa heard the rippling of a stream and saw water sparkling between the trees. She scrambled down the far side of the rise. A fallen tree blocked her way, but she scrabbled onto it.

“Careful!” Chenoa warned, catching up. “You don't want to open your wounds again.”

Lusa had forgotten the wolverine bites. She stopped on top of the log. “I'm okay,” she promised, but she slithered carefully down the other side.

Chenoa hopped over it easily and raced past Lusa. She splashed into the stream and let the bright water wash her paws. “Come on. It feels great!”

Lusa was already sliding down the bank. The water was cool, and the streambed was soft and sandy. Lusa stood and let her claws sink in as she leaned down to lap the cool water. After the heavy pull of the river, the gentle stream felt soothing.

Chenoa stared into the water, then frowned.

“What's wrong?” Lusa shook water from her snout.

Chenoa shrugged. “Nothing but minnows.” She sighed. “Not worth catching.”

Lusa hopped onto the bank, suddenly realizing she was hungry. “Let's find the others. They might have caught something.”

They found Toklo, Kallik, and Yakone dozing, round-bellied, in the shade beside the hollow. The smell of fresh-killed prey swirled around them. Yakone's muzzle was stained with blood.

Toklo half opened an eye. “We were wondering where you were.”

Lusa nudged him with a paw. “Were you?”

“I knew you'd be safe with Chenoa.” He burped lazily and waved a paw toward the hollow. “We saved you a wood duck.”

Lusa's mouth watered when she saw the juicy bird. She didn't eat a lot of meat when she had other choices, but this was one of her favorites. “Thanks.” She crouched beside it and tore off a piece for Chenoa.

“I love duck.” Chenoa scooped it up and chewed happily.

Lusa took a bite. It felt good to have a black bear to travel with. Now, when she thought of reaching the mountains, she didn't get the same fluttery feeling in her belly.
Toklo will be happy to be home, Kallik and Yakone can go back to the ice, and I'll have Chenoa.
She watched her new friend munching.
She'll stay with me, won't she?
Lusa swallowed, vowing to be the best friend Chenoa ever had.
Then she'll never want to leave.

Yakone sat up. “Are we traveling today?” He looked up through the branches. The sun was already sliding down toward the horizon.

Kallik rolled onto her back. “Perhaps we should have a day's rest to give Lusa a chance to heal.”

“I'm feeling a lot better,” Lusa told her.

Kallik's eyes slowly shut. “I'm glad.” A moment later, she was snoring, her full belly moving gently with each breath.

Toklo yawned. “I guess we're staying here another night.”

Lusa's paws itched. It was comfortable here, but she felt she'd held them up long enough. Shouldn't they be moving on? She finished her piece of duck and glanced up at Chenoa.

The she-bear was rubbing feathers from her muzzle. “What's up?”

Lusa looked around at her sleeping companions. “I've had enough rest,” she whispered.

“Let's leave these lazy old possums to sleep.” Chenoa got to her paws. “We can ride the fast currents.”

Lusa swallowed.
Ride the fast currents!
Did that mean swimming in the middle of the river? She hadn't been deeper than the shallows yet. She looked past the trees at the rushing water.

Chenoa headed toward the shore. “Don't worry. You'll love it.”

Lusa trotted after her. She felt less confident as Chenoa waded deeper and deeper into the river. When the water lapped her shoulders, Lusa paused. “Chenoa?”

Chenoa glanced back. “What?”

“It's a bit deep.” Lusa could already feel the current tugging her paws.

“Don't worry!” Chenoa ducked underwater and vanished, leaving a trail of bubbles on the surface.

Lusa stared at the foaming waves. What was Chenoa doing?

A moment later, the black bear bobbed up. Her shoulders pumped as she churned the water with her paws. She was clearly at home in the swollen river and swimming easily in the current. “I see some rocks you can stand on while I teach you.”

Lusa scanned the surging water. She couldn't see any rocks. “I can't—” Before she could object, Chenoa nudged her forward. Lusa scrambled to keep her footing as the water snatched her and dragged her downstream.

Chenoa grabbed her scruff. “Reach with your paws,” she puffed through Lusa's pelt.

Lusa flapped her paws, feeling the drag of the current, relieved as her claws hit rocks jutting up from the riverbed. “Found them!”