by Jane H Wood
In that instant, many tens of miles away to the west, the wind was gathering. It blew through the mountain peaks, creating an eerie moaning in the air. The underground disturbance resumed, though at first just a gentle rumbling, mumbling sound, escalating in strength and insistence as the seconds passed. Until, like a cannon, a high-pitched resonance tore from the heart of the mountain, the sound waves travelling quickly eastwards across the plains and into the northern forests, where they halted, hovering over the treetops, emitting a low humming tone, before the presage faded into silence.
Mira sat up in alarm, frightened again, and leaned over her young protectively as a few particles of soil fell onto her back. The intensity of the tone had been muted inside her den, and the significance of it hadn’t registered; it was beyond her comprehension. Everything was as before, as though nothing unusual had taken place.
The first milk was important, she had to get them feeding, so she nudged her offspring towards her teats, encouraging each one to latch on. The experience of giving birth had exhausted her, but she felt satisfied that her precious litter was warm and dry and that all of her pups were suckling. Contented and feeling extremely proud, she rested her muzzle close to their tiny bodies, happily watching them, then gradually tiredness won, and her eyes closed in blissful sleep.
It was dark by the time Joel made his way back to the den. He’d run on for miles, luring the hunters away, then doubled back with the remains of his pack. He was angry and saddened by the loss of two loyal pack members, killed senselessly by the humans. But his feelings for Mira were stronger, and an overwhelming sense of love and a desire to protect her burned in his heart.
Arriving outside their den, his sides heaving from the hours of running, he paused uncertainly. Even though he was a big strong wolf in his prime, standing at an impressive three feet to his shoulders, brave and unafraid of anything, he dithered at the entrance. Tantalising new scents drifted up the tunnel, spurring him to investigate. Had something happened?
He knew Mira wouldn’t want him to enter; especially if she’s just given birth to the pups, he thought. Then a tingle of excitement overtook him as he contemplated the likelihood that his new family was just a few feet away, nestling deep inside the den.
Behind him the rest of the pack had gathered, each eager to know if the alpha female had young now. Joel flicked his ears, warning them to keep back. He would enter, no one else.
Summoning his courage, he pushed his head inside the den and whimpered softly. Mira stirred, sensing her mate, and whimpered encouragingly. Joel edged forward, firstly pushing his head into the narrow tunnel, then wriggling down the slope on his belly until he arrived at the birthing chamber. He paused at the opening, and there was Mira, lying on her side, and snug against her warm belly were four tiny pups.
Suddenly alert, Mira turned to her mate. ‘Oh Joel! I was so frightened! The humans… I thought they would find me! Then when I heard you calling… Joel, I thought they would kill you for sure!’ she whimpered, staring into his golden eyes so full of love for her. ‘Are you all right?’
The big wolf crept closer and nudged her face affectionately, then gently licked her cheek.
‘You know me better than that!’ he scowled. ‘Humans are stupid and follow only what they can see. We lost them eventually, though it took many miles… and… we paid the price,’ he stuttered, his temper rising, remembering the incidents that ended the lives of two pack members. But, he’d tell her later.
Joel’s eyes wandered towards their litter, taking in their small frames, and his expression softened.
‘They are healthy pups, Joel. Come and meet your family,’ said Mira contentedly. ‘I’ve named most of them; tell me what you think. This is Tuke, a male and our firstborn, then Skeena, a female, and Glyth, a male.’ Mira hesitated, watching her daughter. ‘Skeena is strong and bossy – look!’ she exclaimed, gently lifting the little female off the smallest puppy who was struggling to keep his position by her warm belly. Joel had been quiet, watching them suckle. But when he did eventually speak his voice was full of concern.
‘They are good names, Mira… but what about the last pup? It’s a tiny little thing. Is it all right?’ he asked anxiously, for the rest of the puppies appeared to be blocking him from feeding.
‘He is the smallest in the litter, that’s true, but his will is strong – watch!’ she replied confidently. Joel wriggled closer and together they witnessed the little puppy pushing his way underneath his siblings, then he grasped a teat in his mouth and began suckling as before.
‘See?!’ said Mira triumphantly, her eyes bright with love and pride. ‘But what shall we call him?’
Joel considered the question with his head tilted on one side, studying the smallest puppy. ‘How about Kegg?’ he suggested, and lightly touched them all with his nose, taking in their individual scents. Mira nodded her agreement for it was a good strong name.
An uncomfortable pang clenched at her insides reminding her when she last ate, over twelve hours ago. Coupled with the strenuous exertions of giving birth, her stomach was understandably empty and groaned again, refusing to be ignored. Mira fidgeted, wondering if her mate had been successful in the hunt.
Distracted, Joel was lost in thought, his eyes firmly fixed on their pups now suckling enthusiastically. He marvelled at their tiny faces, their eyes shut tight, and their tiny claws perfectly formed on the tips of each toe. He surveyed them anxiously, wondering what the future held for his offspring.
Mira sensed his ponderous mood and studied him. It was etched on his face, the worry and pain clear to see, because she too understood the dangers their young would have to face when they left the den and took their place within the pack. She nuzzled him gently and licked his mouth. He didn’t move but let her lick him; her gentleness was calming, though his eyes remained downcast. A long moment passed and Mira became more insistent, her impatience getting the better of her. Attuned to her at last, her mate edged backward and without further prompting regurgitated part of his meal.
At the sight of fresh meat, Mira reached for it in a desperate, urgent way, gulping and swallowing it in a matter of seconds. She glanced at him appreciatively.
‘Is everyone all right?’ she asked, taking in her mate’s sombre expression, his downcast eyes deliberately avoiding her own.
Somehow he worried her, for Joel wasn’t his usual strong-minded, optimistic self. This strange quietness was one she wasn’t used to; it fuelled her suspicion that something was wrong. Joel finally lifted his head and spoke.
‘We… we lost two more wolves today,’ he growled, his voice thick with emotion. ‘Murdered by the humans! Senseless, barbaric killings!’ He swallowed, trying to keep his temper under control. ‘We came across a dead deer… It had been dead a while. And when we approached… it happened!’
‘No, Joel! Why do they hate us so?’ she whimpered, panting in distress. Her eyes lowered to her defenceless litter, snuggling beside her belly. She inhaled sharply and added fiercely, ‘How many more of us have to die before they’ll leave us alone?’
This was his problem: he was the leader.
‘Rest, I will think of something,’ he said softly, turning to make his way towards the tunnel’s entrance. Moments later he emerged through the tangled roots and stood in the cool April air, taking time to shake the dirt from his fur. Uncharacteristically, he felt despondent; it was a feeling that was foreign to him. Fatherhood had brought new responsibilities and new worries for the safety of them all.
His eyes rested on the seven bedraggled wolves, patiently awaiting news of the pups. Each member was thin, like himself and Mira. The long severe Canadian winter had taken its toll, for their prey, the elk and caribou herds, had been elusive and difficult to track.
‘Has the alpha female given birth, my leader?’ asked Frez, an older male. Joel surveyed each expectant face, and his mood mellowed.
‘Yes, we have four new pups, fit and well. Three males and one female.’
Lantern, a low-ranking female, pawed the ground, indicating her eagerness to go inside the den. Joel had to maintain order; to let Lantern approach his young could be dangerous for her because he knew Mira would never allow it. And it would convey the wrong message to the rest of the pack if he did nothing.
With restraint, Joel lunged forward, nipping the female on the ear. The action brought Lantern to a halt with a squeal of pain.
‘No one will enter,’ he growled. ‘Stand back. The time will come when you shall all see the pups… but not now,’ he added, his tone a little gentler.
He knew his pack meant well, but the hierarchy was important; he had to maintain it for it was vital for the security of the pack. They needed to respect him as the alpha male, to trust him to keep order, and always guide them in the hunt. Harmony held them together, with each wolf knowing its place, but with two wolves fewer now, hunting strategies would have to change.
Born both blind and deaf, the pups were completely reliant on their mother for warmth and nourishment, settling into a routine of sleep then suckle until, almost two weeks later, their eyes opened, revealing the soft blue colouring that was normal in the first weeks of infancy. Even though the pups’ eyes couldn’t focus properly yet, it didn’t stop them attempting, if somewhat shakily, to investigate the interior of their den. At this tender age the pups resembled domestic dogs rather than wolves, but that would change.
Several carefree days passed, with their mother always close by to attend to their every need. And as they grew their senses began to stir. Suddenly the world beyond their den was beckoning. Intriguing, tantalising smells drifted down the tunnel, evoking the response to explore. Tentatively, noses pushed forward, then heads with startling blue eyes poked nervously from the gloom of the den. The lure of the sunlight and the breeze on their faces became irresistible, and each little body in turn took its first faltering steps onto the grass.
Three more weeks passed, and the pups delighted in their daily excursions, although rarely venturing far from the safety of their den site. Tuke was the eldest and took it upon himself to lead his siblings in these daily excursions. Often the short treks turned into a game as the four little pups scampered through the trees, staying within their secluded area.
It was around this time that the next stage in the pups’ development began, and a new food source was introduced, that of fresh meat. The demands on Mira decreased as the pups were weaned off her milk, passing the responsibility to the pack as a whole. And with the pups growing so fast it was essential that each hunting expedition should end with a kill. Joel was confident as they set off again, for at this time of year young elk and bison would be at their mother’s side, guaranteeing an easy kill.
But, as it turned out, the daily hunt was proving a growing challenge. All the herds seemed to be on the move, which was unusual. They had no choice but to follow them, choose a victim, then with full bellies return to their den.
It was clear to Joel that soon their dwindling food source would be gone, as the herds continued to migrate eastwards. Then they’d have to cover greater distances to find them, exhausting and time-consuming. He pondered the problem while watching every member regurgitate a part of their meal. He nodded his approval because feeding the pups had to remain the priority.
Unaware of the adults’ dilemma, each pup ate their fill, growing and putting on valuable muscle tone. With strength came confidence, and curiosity fuelled their minds, with play becoming an important part of the pups’ daily routine. Regularly play-fights erupted, tumbling and rolling on the ground together, testing each other’s strengths. Their inquisitive natures spurred the pups to venture bravely into the unknown of the surrounding trees, to explore, to learn, finding excitement in every new discovery.
Joel’s judgement was sound as always, as thwarting the hunters was a frequent and dangerous affair and needed to be tackled with cunning. He was clever, wise to their tricks of traps and snares. He studied the signs on the ground; disturbances, such as uneven areas of ruffled leaves, were treated with suspicion, and he was cautious of any unfamiliar scent; all these were key to their survival.
The whole landscape was returning to the lush greens of late spring. Many rivers flowed through their lands, filling the lakes and bringing life to the riverbanks and low-lying pasturelands. It was normally a time of plenty, but this year everything was different.
Joel made his way to the edge of the forest and cast his golden eyes across the open plains to the north. The wind blew onto his face, bringing with it the familiar low hum that had been in the air for weeks, an unrelenting drone filling his ears. It was coming from the direction of the distant blue mountains. He twitched his ears, trying to distinguish the sound. It was strange and slightly foreboding.
He gazed at the mountain range, his curiosity aroused. It would take days to get there… But no, he wouldn’t go in that direction, for the herds were leaving the area. He scented the air and wondered why. He lingered, trying to see any movement between the widely spaced trees and dense shrubbery that weaved through the forest. But everything was unusually still. He turned his attention skywards, but strangely no eagles or hawks graced the beautiful blue skies. It baffled him.
A warm breeze gently touched his face, sending an unexpected shiver along his back, from his neck to the tip of his tail. The sensation was wholly disturbing, given the warmth of the day. He turned back into the forest, for the humming was grating on his nerves.
2
Three months had passed, and now at the end of June the temperature had risen to a comfortable level. Hidden among the trees and lush vegetation, the pups continued to grow.
At thirteen weeks old the pups’ appearance was changing: their muzzles were lengthening and held needle-sharp teeth, while their eyes had gradually turned to the pale yellow of young wolves. Their fur was changing too, the dark hairs on their backs now mottled with grey-brown flecks, and a new lighter buff-colouring was developing on their undersides and legs.
But something was alarmingly different concerning Glyth and Kegg’s ears. For instead of grey upright ears, theirs had started to droop towards their eyes. And, unusually, yellow tufts of fur were growing on the tips of each ear.
The sight promoted a ripple of discord within the pack and, as they watched the young pups playing, unease increased with each passing day.
Joel had been forced to defend his pups, breaking up the gathering of disgruntled wolves as they discussed the strange disfigurement to Glyth and Kegg’s ears.
Recently a lone male wolf had wandered in and stood his ground. The stranger’s insolence had provoked a vicious fight. Though fairly evenly matched, Joel was a ruthless fighter and fought well to defend his family, and he successfully upheld his position as alpha male. But despite his victory the fight had left him feeling more tired than usual.
With the skirmish over, the newcomer had sidled away with his tail between his legs… but not before he’d noticed the two strange-looking pups with their deformed, grotesque ears.
It hadn’t escaped his attention either that a strange tension bristled on the air. He could practically taste it, and it wasn’t provoked by his presence alone but something else within the pack disturbed them. His curiosity aroused, the wolf decided to linger a while longer. Unnoticed, he crept back towards their den, settling himself amid the shadows of the trees and shrubs. He was far enough away to remain undetected but close enough to observe their fractious behaviour. If he was correct their actions would confirm his suspicions: that a fight was brewing.
With cunning eyes he spied every move from his position of safety concealed among the twiggy branches of the shrubs. He observed the alpha male high on a rocky ledge, assuming a dominant stance while he surveyed his territory, unaware of his presence close by. The wolf sneered, taking in the alpha male’s face and body ma
rked with scars, healed now, suggesting they were inflicted long ago, proving that he was a formidable foe.
Summer was in full swing, with the temperatures soaring. On occasions the hunters passed through their forests, but each time Joel acted with speed, sending his pack in different directions, luring the men away then dissolving like ghosts into the trees.
Although the pack obeyed Joel’s instructions, an underlying fear revolved around Mira’s family. She could feel a growing anxiety swelling inside her. The love she felt for her offspring had grown to an intensity unrivalled by any other emotion she had experienced before. So much so that her normally placid disposition was replaced with an acute wariness, alerting her to the mounting aggression and sly looks that seemed to be perpetually cast in her direction. The tensions, electric in the air, were focused on Kegg and Glyth.
Then one day the pack crept away to hold a meeting that didn’t include the alpha pair. However, their underhand behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed. Joel spied them trotting away through the trees, their erect tails displaying an air of confidence. He snorted contemptuously and turned away, only to see Mira resting in the shadows of a tall spruce tree, seemingly unperturbed by the pack’s actions. With soft paws he ambled over to her, angered that his authority was being questioned. He flopped down beside her and released another snort of disapproval.
‘Rest, Joel. Save your strength,’ whispered Mira sleepily.
He knew she meant well, but it was clear she didn’t understand the significance of this meeting. He had never in all his time as leader encountered any disputes like this.
Only Frez had stayed back; he was old and his bones ached. He wandered into the sunshine and lay down, feeling the warmth immediately penetrate his body. He groaned appreciatively and rested his head on his outstretched paws.
