by Jane H Wood
First published in Great Britain in 2019 by
The Book Guild Ltd
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Copyright © 2019 Jane H Wood
The right of Jane H Wood to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This work is entirely fictitious and bears no resemblance to any persons living or dead.
ISBN 9781912881871
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
IN MEMORY OF MY DOG BEAMISH.
My special friend and companion.
Contents
Acknowledgements
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
About the author
Acknowledgements
I would like to express my sincere thanks to the talented team of people working at The Book Guild, for their expertise and gentle guidance through the intricate process of publishing my book.
I owe a special debt of thanks to: Hannah Virk, production controller; Hayley Russell, editorial co-ordinator; Sally Brigham, copy editor; and Jack Wedgbury, senior cover designer, for his stunning design on the front cover. Also I would like to thank Philippa Iliffe, marketing controller, for promoting my book with such energy and passion. And all the people involved with sales, thank you.
A special thank you must go to my long-suffering husband Peter, for his patience, help and support over the past three years it has taken me to write this story. For his good humour and understanding too, for all the late evening meals when I finally left the computer and prepared a meal. And my apologies for all the uneaten lunchtime sandwiches, along with the numerous cups of tea that suddenly appeared by my side unnoticed and left to grow cold while my mind was preoccupied in another world.
Also a special thank you to my dear friends, Judith and Phil Skitt, for taking the time to read a copy of my manuscript, and for their encouraging words spoken with such enthusiasm and passion concerning my story.
Prologue
Mira struggled on through the deepening snow, unaware that every bounding leap was taking her further off course and into the depths of the forest.
Exhausted, she came to a standstill and glanced behind her, expecting to see her wolf pack somewhere in the distance, following her trail. But somehow she was alone amid the widely spaced spruce trees in the southern wilderness of Canada’s Northwest Territories.
It felt safer to remain perfectly still, her pale fur helping to conceal her in case their dreaded enemy had ventured into her domain. It was a rare occurrence, she knew, but vigilance was born in her.
With ears pricked, heedful of the faintest sounds, the alpha female listened, roused in the belief that she was being stalked. Or perhaps they were hiding among the trees, choosing their moment to attack when she least expected it. The thought sent her heartbeat racing, identifying only the sounds of the trees swaying and creaking gently under the constant stress caused by the icy winds blowing through their branches. She was justifiably wary, for being alone made her vulnerable and heightened her perception of danger.
Her keen eyesight scanned the forest, surveying the mature conifers that dominated this region. Their conical shapes and evergreen foliage lay hidden beneath a thick layer of snow. The scent of pine needles and damp earthy bark, mixed with the bass notes of decayed bracken withered in the icy conditions, was pungent in her nostrils. A sudden thud had her turning quickly, only to discover that a wedge of snow had dislodged itself from a branch, slipping harmlessly to the ground.
Mira began to move, slowly at first, casting her golden eyes furtively into the shadows. Her misting breath betrayed her position, and she hesitated again, searching for signs of her discovery… Receiving none, she refocused on the snow in front of her forepaws. It was smooth and unmarked by prints of any kind, indicating that she was the only animal to have passed this way in a long time.
The understanding brought on a sense of urgency; she had to get out of here or risk losing her pack altogether. Mira picked up her paws and set off, though uncertain that she was heading in the right direction.
It all began days ago when she and her pack of grey wolves had first spotted their quarry: a herd of elk. The pack had stalked them tirelessly, hoping an opportunity would present itself.
Finally, hunger drove them to change tactics. Mira was fleet of paw and had been assigned the task of outrunner; the objective was to gain a position at the head of the herd. The mere sight of her blocking their escape usually frightened and confused their prey, sending them scattering back into the jaws of her following pack which would converge on its chosen victim. But it hadn’t worked out as they’d planned, and now Mira found herself alone.
A lightness was coming through the trees directly ahead, suggesting that she was leaving the oppressiveness of the tall snow-laden trees. Relieved, Mira quickened her pace and ascended the rise as the trees became more scattered, before abruptly stopping. She hesitated in the shadows and studied the expanse of wilderness that lay before her. It was an area of gently undulating pastureland, the grass hidden under a covering of snow. In the distance the forest began again, sweeping up the hillsides, pale and indistinguishable from her position.
An eagle drew her attention, circling in the overcast skies high above her; its call was shrill, almost mocking, watching her standing there all alone.
She resumed her search but it was difficult to see anything. A pervading mist was descending, casting hues of the palest greys, melting the hillside into obscurity.
All was still, the herd gone, and no sign of her pack either. The elk on this occasion had outrun them. It was a sure sign that the snow was melting in the open areas, where normally her pack would have the advantage of deep snow.
She pressed her paws into the snow, discovering a new wetness seeping between her toes. A gentle breeze ruffled her fur, and tilting her head she caught a whiff of pine, but this time it was sweet and fresh. It confirmed her suspicions: a new season was about to begin; spring wasn’t far away. The discovery sent a warning shiver through her body.
Then a howl drifted on the air, indistinct and fading into the trees. Mira pricked up her ears, recognising the distant voice. She lifted her muzzle and responded with a long haunting howl, then trotted quickly, eager to be reunited with the rest of her kin.
Mira knew
that the peace and freedom to wander without fear was nearly over. It had been the icy inhospitable conditions that had protected them and kept them safe from the two-legged predators with their killing sticks.
The winter months were long and severe but a struggle they were used to. Their thick winter fur provided warmth and protection, enabling them to cope with a season whose temperatures often plummeted to well below freezing. Regular snow flurries frequently turned into blizzards, and icy winds were normal and part of everyday life.
This beautiful land was theirs, a wilderness made up of lush green pasturelands, rivers and lakes. The open prairies and sweeping hillsides were blanketed with tall evergreen conifers as far as the eye could see. To the west lay the vast mountain range, shrouded and mysterious. Further south, a variety of dense deciduous trees and tall majestic conifers made up the boreal forests, where leafy shrubs, wild plants and mossy lichens grew beneath their canopies.
Eventually, the last of the snow would relinquish its grip, falling like gentle rain onto the ground below as the thaw quickened. The stark whiteness would be forgotten as young leaves began to unfurl, changing the landscape back to its glorious shades of green.
***
It is the spring of 1972, and as the quiet stillness of winter fades a new kind of battle to survive begins.
The conflict between man and wolf is as old as the trees themselves. It is no secret that man has always hated the wolf, feared and persecuted them.
Men, lawless and cruel, sought only to gain from a dead wolf, making a living from trapping, taking pelts and ridding the land of the so-called vermin wolves. And so the wolves were hunted relentlessly, mercilessly shot on sight, poisoned, or horribly mutilated then left to die a long drawn-out death.
It has always been so.
For generations, superstitions and fairy tales have fuelled man’s fears, where evil spirits have taken the form of the wolf, labelled a bringer of bad tidings. The wolf, despised and ridiculed, was the lowest of all creatures.
Animosity thrived, among the farming community in particular, where any unexplained deaths or disappearances of their livestock from their fields were the wolf’s doing. These distorted fantasies had wormed into the minds and hearts of men, eradicating compassion, decency and common sense. Even natural disasters, like drought, disease and fire, were irrefutably the wolf’s fault.
The hunters and the hunted; and so the dance will begin again, for they know their enemies will return… It is only a matter of when.
All seems lost for the grey wolf, their numbers dwindling to a new low. Their very existence is teetering on a knife edge… But fate is set to cast hope among the wolves, for a new dawn is about to begin.
1
Settled high in the forest canopy the birds are the first to warn of any approaching threat, their raucous cries and rush of wings alerting every animal in the vicinity to flee.
An unnerving silence precedes what is to come, like nature is holding her breath. Then it starts, though it could be mistaken for thunder rolling across the skies for it rebounds off the hillsides and treetops, confusing the senses. It is faint and distant and coming from the south, Mira is sure of it. Then the echoes gradually fade away and everything is quiet.
The wind spooked her as a gust suddenly whipped across the entrance of her den, blowing cold air down the tunnel, ruffling her fur. Overhead came the sound of clattering hooves as a few animals raced past.
It wasn’t a good sign, and Mira twitched her ears, listening intently, while she lay cowering inside her den, dreading the disarming sounds that announced death and terror to her kind.
As if her thoughts had conjured up her enemy, they advanced through the forest, drawing closer, the sounds growing louder with each passing minute. The rolling reverberations had the power to quicken the heart as her memory recalled the deadly killing sticks that the two-legged predators carried.
Humans were coming, tracking them again!
Alarmed, she lifted her head as her sensitive nose caught their scent, confirming that the enemy was heading in her direction. She began panting in fear, licking her mouth repeatedly, trying to quell the panic growing inside her.
Trust in her mate overruled her instinct to run; she couldn’t run now; if she did it would be the end of her. She was heavily pregnant and vulnerable, the birth of her pups imminent. Instinctively she pushed herself deeper inside her den, but the usually safe haven didn’t feel so safe anymore.
She could hear animals running, forced to flee from the safety of the trees. She listened, shaking in fear as they charged through the undergrowth above her, unaware of the wolf den beneath their hooves, the vibrations dislodging a smattering of dust to fall on the ground where she lay. She understood their cries of fear – animals panicking, their hooves clattering in desperation, darting this way and that, frantic to get away.
No one was safe.
All was quiet now; the animals had gone. A cold breeze disturbed the fur on the back of her neck; she shivered and glanced up the tunnel where muted daylight filtered inside, touching the compacted earth on the entrance floor. The winter snow had all but gone and the ground outside was bathed in weak sunlight, encouraging the forest to bloom once more. The warmer weather had finally arrived, but it had also brought the most feared predators of all.
Mira pressed her paws into the soft earth in agitation; she was trapped and alone. Then a pain began in her lower abdomen. The sudden onset caused her to whimper and she shifted her weight uncomfortably, turning a couple of times in the cramped confines of her den before settling down to lie on her side once more. Her belly was plump and rounded, the skin stretched tight with her pups, eager to be born. She licked her enlarged teats expectantly and the pain inside eased.
This was her first litter with Joel – her mate and their leader. She feared for his survival, and her heart swelled with love, for he was strong and brave and loved her too. They were the alpha pair, and she had the honour and responsibility of producing young each year, increasing their numbers, strengthening the pack and ensuring the existence of their species.
But where was he now? She was aware he’d taken the pack out to hunt at first light, and perhaps he was still miles away, unaware of her present predicament.
Footsteps made her still, immobilised with fear and not daring to make a sound as men came to a standstill on the roof of her den, seemingly oblivious to her presence beneath their feet. She tensed, wondering if her enemy was scanning the surrounding forest for their next victim, and she lifted her lip in a silent snarl.
Weeks ago, Joel and Mira had chosen a secluded area to excavate their den. It was dug into the side of a rise where a group of conifers stood, their branches heavy with foliage, intertwining with their neighbours and forming a shadowy canopy overhead. Growing in between the trees was a dense thicket of shrubs. It was here their home was made; and it was Joel’s idea to leave a few of the roots partially exposed so they would camouflage the entrance from view. Their den, a narrow tunnel, sloped downwards into the earth to a depth of roughly eight feet, then widened and curved to one side revealing a circular space designed to provide complete privacy for Mira when the time came.
Her enemy hadn’t moved from their position above her den. She could just make out their indistinct voices whispering in conversation. She prayed they would leave. Unable to stop herself she began trembling as another pain started to build in her abdomen. She swallowed and licked her mouth as she lay on her side in the dark.
A loud crack resonated through the air above her, resembling the sound of a breaking branch. The sudden noise, so close, made her jump, and a whimper escaped her throat.
Something was running for its life, causing the ground to tremble. Restraining the urge to bolt, she began panting in distress, fearing she was going to be found and killed.
A familiar howl came from outside. It was Joel, Mira was sure of it.
The footsteps moved away and the gunfire resumed.
Minutes went by; their enemy had definitely gone and her breathing gradually returned to normal. She began worrying about Joel. Had he got away? What about her offspring? Would they survive? She was growing agitated and sat up again, panting.
Her abdomen was uncomfortably large as she sat there. Then another pain gripped her insides, the seconds passed and with them the intensity of the contraction increased.
A feeling to bear down was overwhelming as her pups moved inside her. She lay on her side again, wishing Joel was with her, and felt warm liquid slide down between her hind legs. This contraction had lasted the longest, and Mira was panting in distress, her mind racing, wondering if something was wrong.
‘My pups,’ she panted, fearing the worst.
The situation was out of her control and instinct took over. Within a minute the first pup, a male, was born. Mira turned to greet him and licked his little grey body lovingly. A moment’s rest, then another pup emerged, this time a female. Mira repeated her response, licking and warming her small body.
She watched in admiration as her two offspring nestled close beside her, pushing their tiny noses into her abdomen. She felt another pain, and another pup slipped down the birth canal. Caught up in the wonder of the experience and seeing her young family appearing before her eyes was spellbinding, and the men outside were forgotten.
Just then a low rumbling stirred deep within the earth. Mira felt the subtle vibrations and looked up, wondering what it was. But then the disturbance subsided as quickly as it had begun.
Her attention returned to her third pup, a male, and she licked him lovingly before gently placing him next to his siblings. Within seconds a fourth pup flopped onto the ground between her legs, a male, but he was smaller than the others and didn’t look as strong. The sight of him filled her with concern, and she pulled him closer to her side protectively, drying his little body with her warm tongue.
