by Erin Hunter
Taktuq’s gruff voice came from close beside her. “Oh, you’re awake.”
Lusa’s heart thumped with shock as she remembered where she was. She scrabbled to her paws and turned to the old black bear, who was crouched beside the bars of his own cage.
“I have to get out of here!” she gasped. “I have to find my friends!”
But her head still hurt so much she could barely stand, and her fur had a strange smell that reminded her of the flat-face healing den at the Bear Bowl.
“Did something happen to me?” she asked, sniffing her chest.
“The flat-faces took you out of your cage at sunrise,” Taktuq replied. “You’re injured, right?”
“A mule kicked me,” Lusa said.
Taktuq gave a grunt of surprise. “What were you doing that close to a mule?”
“I was traveling with three other bears . . .” Lusa began, and launched into the story of meeting the long line of mules and trying to batter their way through to escape from the herd of flat-faces. “I ran away and lost my friends in the chaos,” she finished. “Flat-faces found me and brought me here.”
“And it’s these friends that you want to find, right?” Taktuq checked.
Lusa decided not to tell him that one of the other bears was brown and two were white. “Yes. They’re like my family,” she explained. “We were on our way to Great Bear Lake. That’s why I have to escape, or I’ll never get there.”
“The flat-faces will have treated your injury,” Taktuq told her. “That’s what they do.”
A spark of hope woke inside Lusa. “And if I’m okay, they’ll take me back to the mountains?”
Taktuq twitched his ears. “I don’t know.”
The noise from the other creatures was making Lusa’s headache worse. She flopped down beside the cage bars, too miserable to look for a way to break out.
“Why don’t you go outside?” Taktuq suggested, sounding more sympathetic. “The fresh air might make you feel better.”
Lusa raised her head. “Outside? We can get out?”
“Sure. I told you before, remember? Look, it’s this way.”
Taktuq stood up and lumbered to the back wall, where he pushed against the flap in the cage door. It swung open, and he scrambled through.
Lusa padded to the back of her own cage and pressed her forepaws against the flap that had been solid and unmoving the night before. This time it swung away from her easily, allowing her to wriggle through the flap and into the open. Sitting on the warm, damp grass, Lusa took in long gulps of air. It wasn’t really fresh: She could pick up the scents of flat-faces and firebeasts, but it was certainly better than the stale air inside the den. There wasn’t as much noise out here, either.
Ahead of Lusa stretched a long, thin pen enclosed on three sides by tall walls of silver mesh. Behind her was the wall of the den. Taktuq was in a similar enclosure on one side of her, and the coyote was on the other side. A line of other enclosures stretched in both directions.
Lusa glared as the scrawny, reddish-gray coyote padded up to the mesh and gave her a sniff, then turned away as if it was bored. Lusa noticed that it was walking unevenly and turned to Taktuq.
“The coyote’s limping. What happened to it?”
“I have no idea,” Taktuq replied. He didn’t sound as if he cared, either.
Being surrounded by all these different creatures was making Lusa deeply uneasy. She tried to tell herself that it was just the same as the Bear Bowl, but she wasn’t able to convince herself. In the Bear Bowl, there were no savage creatures like the coyote to bother her.
Besides, I’ve seen so much since then. I could never be content in the Bear Bowl now.
Meanwhile, Taktuq had stretched out in a patch of sunlight, turning so that his gray-furred belly was warmed by the rays. “Tell me about this Bear Bowl you come from,” he said. “Why did the flat-faces put you there?”
“I was born there,” Lusa corrected him. “My whole family was there.” She didn’t want to go too deeply into her memories of the Bear Bowl, because she knew she’d never make Taktuq understand. Even though she was glad of his company, the effort of talking to him was making her headache worse again. “I’m a wild bear now,” she murmured. And I have to escape, or I’ll never see my friends again. And I’ll never get to Great Bear Lake to meet Miki and his family.
Lusa began to investigate the enclosure, sniffing around the mesh and looking for places where she could break through or dig her way out. But the mesh went right down into the earth, and she couldn’t find any weak points. At the far end of the enclosure was a door, but it was shut tight, and far too small to escape through anyway.
As she snuffled her way around the enclosure, she caught a sudden strong whiff of coyote scent and jumped back as the creature beside her snapped its jaws at her, a paw’s width away from the mesh. “Get away from me!” Lusa barked, scuttling out of range.
She heard Taktuq chuffing with amusement.
“It’s not funny!” Lusa yelped. “I was hunted by a pack of coyotes once.”
“Really?” Taktuq sounded impressed. “How did you escape?”
“We jumped onto a firesnake,” Lusa announced proudly, then added, “Do you know about firesnakes?”
The old bear nodded. “My mother told me about them. And I remember hearing them screech sometimes, before I lived here. I can’t believe it agreed to carry you.”
“It didn’t agree. I’m not sure it even knew we were riding on its back. It was scary! But we couldn’t run any farther, because my friend Yakone hurt his paw in a flat-face thing with teeth.”
Taktuq looked puzzled, then obviously decided to let it go. For a few moments he was silent. “You’re lucky to be alive, if all that’s true. Sounds like you’d be better off staying here,” he said at last.
In one corner of Lusa’s enclosure there was a small wooden shelter, and beside it a log lying on the ground. Nearby was a bucket of water. She went to get a drink, then began padding the length of the silver mesh restlessly, hating the feeling of being shut in when she had traveled freely all the way to the Endless Ice and back. How did I ever survive in the Bear Bowl?
“For the spirits’ sake, settle down,” Taktuq muttered irritably. “Listening to you walk in circles is making me tired.”
Lusa ignored him. The coyote was bothering her, too; it had taken to padding alongside her, keeping pace with her on its own side of the mesh. It kept casting quick glances at her, its jaws wide and its pink tongue lolling. It can’t reach me through the mesh, she thought. At least, I don’t think it can, she added with a shiver.
Trying to take her mind off the disgusting creature, Lusa remembered her vivid dream of Ujurak among the caribou. “Can you tell me more about the caribou?” she asked, swerving back to Taktuq’s side of the enclosure.
“I think there was one here,” the old bear replied. “But that was a few seasons ago. It didn’t stay long.”
“No, I’m looking for a whole herd of them,” Lusa responded. “You said they come here at this season.”
Taktuq let out a snort. “What do you want with caribou? Black bears don’t eat them, and they’re big enough to trample you.”
“I know,” Lusa said. “But I think I’ll find my friends if I can find the caribou.”
There was a stir from the other enclosures, and the two gray-furred flat-faces appeared, carrying bowls of food. They began pushing the bowls through the small door at the end of the pens.
Investigating her bowl, Lusa found it filled with grapes and chunks of apple, which she chewed up happily. In his enclosure, Taktuq was gulping his food down with cheerful snorting noises.
A rank scent drifted into Lusa’s nostrils, and she looked sideways to see that the coyote was crouching over a bowl of raw, strong-smelling meat. That’s right . . . eat it up, she thought. You can’t have black bear today!
A third flat-face had come out with the older, gray-furred ones and stood watching Lusa while she ate. This flat-fa
ce was the cub Lusa had seen when she first arrived. It had long, dark head-fur, and spoke in a soft, high-pitched voice, which made Lusa think this was another female. After a few moments she came right up to Lusa’s enclosure. The older flat-faces looked on warily at first, but when the young flat-face reached her hairless paw through the mesh, the older female darted forward and drew her gently away. She seemed to be explaining something in a quiet voice, touching the young flat-face’s paw several times.
Lusa watched curiously, half-frightened and half-fascinated to be so close to these flat-faces. As she finished her bowl of fruit, the older female gave the young one an apple and pointed at Lusa with encouraging sounds. The young flat-face crouched down and rolled the apple through the mesh.
Lusa hesitated, wondering if it was a trap. But I’m still hungry, and the fruit is so delicious. . . . She crept closer to the mesh, reached out a paw to snatch the apple, then darted away again. The young flat-face let out a happy yelping sound.
“Becoming a pet now, are you?” Taktuq grunted. His head was tilted intently to pick up all the details of what was happening.
Lusa didn’t know what he was talking about. It was just some fruit, right?
The young flat-face leaned on the mesh, watching Lusa eat the apple, and with the pressure of her body, Lusa noticed that the mesh was coming away from where it was attached in the top corner. Dropping the remains of the apple, she launched herself upward, scrabbling for the weak point.
Instantly the two older flat-faces dashed forward and pulled the younger one away, making shocked noises. The male grabbed a pronged stick and came toward Lusa with it. Lusa ignored him, clinging to the mesh while she tried to loosen it with her teeth and claws. But the next moment the male flat-face had pushed her gently to the ground with the end of the stick.
Lusa scrambled back onto her paws and roared at the flat-face. “You have to let me out of here!” she growled, biting at the end of the stick in a fit of anger.
The young flat-face wailed something to the older female.
“Stop it,” Taktuq said. “Calm down. You’re scaring them.”
“They can’t keep me here!” Lusa protested.
“They can,” Taktuq contradicted her flatly.
The three flat-faces left in a hurry, the two older ones pushing the young one ahead of them.
“Come back!” Lusa barked after them. “Let me out! I have to find my friends!”
Fury erupted in Lusa’s brain with the force of an exploding star. She stormed around her enclosure, ramming into the wooden shelter and knocking it over. She lashed out at the water bucket, spilling the water, and raked her claws down the log that lay on the ground.
I have to get out! I have to get out!
But all Lusa’s fit of rage did was exhaust her. She collapsed on the ground, her head throbbing and her heart racing.
Taktuq pressed himself against the mesh until some of his fur poked through and brushed her side. “Steady, little one,” he grunted, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “You’re obviously not badly hurt. Perhaps they’ll let you go.”
Lusa raised her head. “I can’t wait for the flat-faces to decide,” she said. “I have to escape now!”
“You won’t do that by scaring them,” Taktuq told her. He was silent for a few moments, then added, “Sit up, Lusa. I want to show you something.”
Weary and discouraged, Lusa pushed herself up from the ground. “What?”
“Watch the fox down there,” Taktuq said, pointing with his snout down the line of enclosures. “I’ve heard the flat-faces talking to it. They treat it like a friend, from what I can tell.”
Lusa spotted a small brown fox several cages away. Taktuq knows it’s there? He can hear and scent so much!
The young female flat-face had reappeared and was heading toward the fox. Lusa watched, her interest piqued, as the young female opened a full-size door in the mesh and walked up to the animal. The fox leaped to its paws and ran over to her with an eager yip.
Taktuq’s right! Lusa thought, astonished.
The young flat-face stooped down and stroked the fox’s head, then fastened some kind of vine around its neck and guided it out of the enclosure with gentle tugs.
“She’s letting it out!” Lusa exclaimed. A memory flashed into her head of seeing flat-faces walking like this with dogs, more than once on her journey. “It’s like . . . like a dog!”
Beyond the mesh was a wide stretch of grass, where the fox and the flat-face played happily together, running alongside each other and jumping over logs laid on the ground.
“Why doesn’t the fox bite through the vine and escape?” Lusa wondered aloud. “It could, easily. They’re just running up and down.”
“Maybe it likes being here,” Taktuq responded.
How can it, if it is wild? Lusa thought.
Tired and discouraged, Lusa let her snout rest on her paws. Throbbing pain struck through her head where the mule had kicked her, and her legs felt too heavy for her to move. For a long time she dozed there on the grass, half listening to the sounds of birds and animals around her.
When Lusa woke, the daylight was beginning to fade, and a few stars had appeared. She lay on her back and stared up at them, but because darkness hadn’t fallen, it was hard to make out any shapes. Then, as Lusa watched, some of the stars seemed to blaze extra bright, as if they were trying to catch her attention. Huge, glittering outlines began to appear against the darkening sky. Oh . . . that’s Ujurak! And his mother! Clear above her head, they shone more brightly than any of the other stars.
That must be a sign from Ujurak, Lusa thought, quivering with excitement. He knows where I am! He’s watching over me! She waited to see if Ujurak would speak to her, but no words came into her mind. Still, she felt a surge of hope. I just need the flat-faces to let me out of the cage; then it would be much easier to escape.
Lusa let out a long sigh. “I won’t be here much longer!”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Taktuq grunted. “Do you really think you can persuade the flat-faces to trust you? You’re a bear, not a little fox! And you scared them today.”
Lusa knew he was right; she was furious with herself for being so fluff-brained. But I’m not giving up. I know what to do now, and I’m going to try. . . .
CHAPTER NINE
Toklo
Night fell, and with clouds covering the moon, it became too difficult for the bears to continue traveling. Peering ahead through the darkness, Toklo realized that the caribou must have stopped, too. The clicking noise of their paws had fallen silent, and instead he could hear crunching as the animals grazed, along with the occasional bellow. His jaws watered as strong caribou scent was carried to him on the breeze.
“We could sneak down there,” Toklo muttered, half to himself, “and pick one off, right on the edge of the herd. The rest of them wouldn’t know a thing about it.”
“I told you before,” Kallik spoke sternly as she padded up beside Toklo. “We need the caribou. We’ll have to hunt for something else instead.”
“Okay, okay,” Toklo grumbled.
“I’ll go,” Yakone offered, his white pelt fading swiftly into the darkness.
Meanwhile, Toklo and Kallik began to prepare a den in a thicket of berry bushes at the edge of the trees. As Toklo trampled down the undergrowth to make a flat place to sleep, he spotted some berries growing on one of the nearby bushes. His belly ached with hunger, so he pulled off a cluster and chomped it down, curling his lip at the bitter taste.
“Lusa would enjoy them,” he murmured. “I hope she has enough to eat, wherever she is.”
By the time the den was ready, Yakone had returned with a couple of ground squirrels. They’re not as satisfying as a caribou would be, Toklo thought as he tore off his share of the meat, though he didn’t say so out loud to Yakone.
When the food was finished, the two white bears curled up and went to sleep, but Toklo stayed awake for a while, watching the clouds drift across the nig
ht sky. In the gaps between them he caught glimpses of Ujurak and Ursa, and though he couldn’t sense Ujurak anywhere close to him, he was sure that those stars were shining the brightest, reassuring them that they were on the right track.
“We are coming, Lusa,” he whispered.
Toklo slept at last, but it seemed he had barely closed his eyes before he was roused by Yakone stirring beside him.
“The nights are so short a bear can hardly get a wink of sleep,” the white male grumbled as he raised his head and peered around blearily.
“That’s why we have to hurry up and find Lusa,” Toklo responded. “The Longest Day can’t be far off.”
With a nod to each other, the two bears heaved themselves to their paws and slipped into the trees, muzzles raised and jaws open for any sign of prey.
Yakone tilted his snout toward a clump of long grass, and Toklo spotted the outline of a grouse in the gray dawn light. Setting his paws down as lightly as he could, he crept around in a wide circle until he was in position on the other side of the bird.
Growling fiercely, Yakone leaped forward. The grouse shot upward with a loud alarm call, heading straight for Toklo, who swatted it out of the air with one paw. Feeling thoroughly satisfied, he picked up his catch and carried it back to Kallik with Yakone padding by his side.
“We’re a good team,” Yakone commented.
Once they had eaten, the bears had to wait for the caribou to set out again. Toklo found a spot on an overhanging bluff where he had a good view of the herd. One or two of them were already on the move. Toklo spotted a young calf dart away from its mother and come skittering on unsteady legs almost as far as the bottom of the bluff where he was crouching. His paws itched to leap down on top of it, but he stayed where he was.
Kallik would claw my pelt off if I touched it!
A moment later the mother caribou let out a bellow and galloped up to her calf, chasing it back into the herd again. At the same time Toklo noticed that an old bull had wandered away from the group to pull at the leaves of a sage bush. Two younger males followed it and guided it back, just as the mother had done with her calf.
