River of Lost Bears

by Erin Hunter

  A harsh scent touched her nose. It smelled of BlackPath and flat-faces. And wood dust! She could taste the freshness of sap on her tongue. In a flash, she remembered watching firebeasts carrying trees away.

  No!

  A crack split the air. Branches clattered and swished. Somewhere nearby, a tree thumped to the ground.

  With a gasp, Lusa scrambled forward. What’s happening? Fear spiked her pelt. She ran blindly, panicked. “Toklo! Kallik!” Where were they? She burst into a clearing and, terrified, stumbled to a halt. Stumps jutted before her, glistening with fresh sap. The bodies of trees lay between them.

  Lusa’s eyes watered as wood dust and firebeast stench washed her muzzle. As tears welled, she saw the blurry shapes of flat-faces stalking between the stumps. Moving stiffly, in thick yellow pelts, they lifted long, shiny paws, which screamed as they swished through the air. The buzzers! The flat-faces had brought them! Lusa flattened her ears against the agonizing screech. A flat-face moved toward a towering pine. He lifted his shiny paw and pressed it against the trunk. As the paw sliced into the tree, wood dust sprayed like blood.

  “No!” Lusa roared. She was sure she could hear a bear spirit wailing. The tree tottered as the flat-face freed his paw and stepped away. He yelped a warning to the other flat-faces as slowly the tree began to fall. Lusa watched, breathless, as it folded and crashed to the ground. It bounced, then lay as still as Chenoa when they’d pulled her from the water.

  Lusa raced back through the forest. Blind with horror, she pelted through the pines and crashed past the birch. Bracken whipped her muzzle and brambles snagged her fur, but she kept running. Her paws burned as they skidded over the earth. She tripped and tumbled, the sky flashing overhead as she fell out onto the shore. The wide river stretched ahead of her. Jerking around, she searched the shoreline. With a rush of relief, she spotted a white pelt shambling along the rocks.

  Kallik! And Yakone! He stood in the river, the water washing his back. Where’s Toklo?

  As Lusa scrambled over the rocks, Toklo padded out from the trees.

  “I can’t even find her scent,” he called to Kallik. “The whole forest stinks of flat-faces and BlackPaths.”

  “Toklo!” Lusa wailed. “Come quickly!” Her heart beat in her throat. “They’re killing the trees!”

  “Lusa!” Toklo’s eyes widened as she skidded to a stop beside him. “We’ve been worried. Where have you been?”

  Lusa fought for breath. “I’ve seen them! The buzzers! They’re big, shiny paws. The flat-faces are using them to cut down the trees.”

  Kallik galloped to meet her. “Calm down. Tell us exactly what you saw.”

  Lusa stared at her. Didn’t she understand what was happening? “The flat-faces are killing the trees!” She swung her head from Toklo to Kallik.

  Toklo’s eyes went round in sympathy. “I saw the wounds they’d left in the forest when Chenoa showed me the mountains.”

  Yakone huffed. “There are too many trees here anyway.”

  Lusa gasped. “But we need them! For prey and food and—” She broke off and swallowed. “Where will my spirit go if there are no trees left?”

  Yakone shifted his paws. “I’m sorry, Lusa.” He twitched his ears toward the distant sound of buzzing. “I didn’t think.”

  Kallik touched her muzzle to Lusa’s head. “Flat-faces kill trees wherever they go, Lusa. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “But it’s horrible! You have to see!” Lusa tore away from them and plunged into the woods. She glanced back to make sure Toklo and Kallik were following, relieved when she saw them charging after her.

  Yakone raced after them. “Hey, where are you going?”

  Lusa followed the path she’d beaten in her rush to the shore. The buzzing grew louder.

  “We shouldn’t be heading this way!” Yakone bellowed.

  “Lusa!” Kallik thundered behind her. “There’s nothing we can do.”

  “You have to see!” Lusa called back. If the others saw the trees dying, they’d have to do something. After all, they’d stopped flat-faces from destroying things before. She raced faster as the buzzing turned to screeching. She ignored the pain piercing her ears. “There!” She stopped a muzzlelength from the tree line, where the forest opened onto the stump-filled clearing. “Look!”

  Toklo crept forward. Lusa watched his ears quiver as he peered past the trunks. Kallik followed him, Yakone pushing in beside her. Wood dust shimmered in shafts of sunshine. The air was filled with choking firebeast stench. A huge black-pawed firebeast rumbled at the edge of the clearing, while another picked up the dead trees with a gigantic dangling claw and loaded them onto its back.

  Lusa slid next to Toklo and watched the flat-faces. The clearing was swarming with them. One was slicing into a fresh tree. Lusa’s pelt stood on end as she heard it scream. Another tree cracked. Lusa snapped her head around. A flat-face held up his shiny paw triumphantly and yelped as a tree toppled away from him. The far edge of the clearing seemed to sway as tree after tree collapsed like grass bending beneath the wind. “They’re cutting them all down!” Lusa gasped.

  Toklo pressed against her and steered her away. “There are too many flat-faces,” he breathed into her ear. “We can’t stop them.”

  Kallik touched her nose to Lusa’s head. “I’m sorry, Lusa. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “What about Chenoa?”

  Toklo froze. “Chenoa?”

  “I saw her, in the bark of a tree. Her spirit’s over there.” Lusa pointed with her muzzle. “What if they cut her down, too?”

  Kallik’s eyes clouded with pity. “Oh, Lusa.”

  Yakone padded away from the clearing. “Her spirit will find a new home.”

  “You don’t know that!” Lusa gaped at him. “What would happen to white bear spirits if flat-faces melted all the ice and stole all the stars?”

  “Come on, Lusa.” Toklo began to hustle her away. “We can’t stay here. It’s not safe.” His ears were twitching.

  “And it’s too noisy.” Yakone headed back toward the river. Kallik trotted after him, glancing anxiously at Lusa.

  “I wish we could help.” Toklo steered her forward. “But what can we do?”

  Numbly, Lusa let Toklo guide her. She’d let the river sweep Chenoa away. Now she was leaving her spirit to be destroyed by flat-faces. She’d been too small to help her friend when she was alive, and Lusa was still too small to save her spirit now.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Toklo

  As they reached the shore, Lusa pulled away from Toklo. He watched her anxiously as she headed along the riverbank. The black bear weaved, stumbling over the stones, as though half-blind with grief.

  Toklo forced away a groan of despair. There was nothing he could do. Surely Lusa understood? How could he protect Chenoa’s spirit tree?

  Kallik hurried to catch up with Lusa, reaching her just in time to steady her as a loose rock turned beneath her paw.

  “Dumb stones!” Lusa snarled, flinching away from Kallik.

  Toklo stared into the forest. There seemed to be as many flat-faces as prey here; first the rafts, then the herd by the falls, and now the tree cutters. The bears had to keep moving, find a way to a less crowded place.

  The morning passed slowly. Clambering over the rocky shoreline was harder than before, with looser pebbles to challenge weary paws. Stones shifted and teetered underfoot. Toklo’s forepaw slipped off one moss-covered rock and hit another. He winced, glancing at the wide, flat beaches on the far shore. It looked like easier walking on the other side, but he couldn’t be sure there weren’t flat-faces there. And he knew he couldn’t suggest crossing the river again.

  Dark, fat-bellied clouds rolled from the horizon, and as the bears pushed on, the breeze lifted, ruffling their fur. Rain began to spatter Toklo’s muzzle, falling more and more heavily until the treetops disappeared in a gray haze. Toklo clung to the tree line, sheltering beneath branches, but soon they dripped cold droplets along his s
pine. He shivered, shaking off the rain.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Yakone’s growl took him by surprise. Toklo jerked his head around to see the white bear fall in beside him.

  “What wasn’t?”

  “You gave Chenoa a real chance to find her own place in the forest.” Yakone kept his gaze fixed on the shore ahead. “She would never have been happy staying with Hakan.”

  Grief stabbed Toklo’s heart. Was a short glimpse of happiness enough? “We’ll never know,” he muttered.

  As the rain poured, the river began to churn. Swelling, it thundered past, snatching at the shore. Rain dripped faster through the branches. Before long, Toklo was drenched.

  Ahead, Kallik shook raindrops from her muzzle. “We need to stop.”

  Lusa slowed beside her, head low, gaze dull.

  “Lusa needs a break.” Kallik lifted her snout. “And food.”

  Toklo nodded. “You stay here with Lusa. I’ll hunt.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Yakone headed into the forest.

  Kallik nudged Lusa toward the shelter of a thick pine. “Don’t let Lusa go chasing after any more bear spirits,” Toklo warned Kallik.

  Lusa flashed him a look.

  Yakone was waiting for him in the shadow of the trees. “Let’s split up,” the white bear suggested. Water dripped from every branch, but there was more shelter here than on the shore.

  “Okay.” Toklo gazed into the shadows. He smelled the rich, damp scent of prey. His belly rumbled.

  As Yakone lumbered away, Toklo followed a scent trail. It led him straight to a raccoon. It was sitting among the roots of a pine, gnawing on a shoot. It didn’t even have time to run as Toklo lunged and killed it with a bite. He headed back for the shore and dropped the raccoon at Kallik’s paws.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Woodland prey.”

  Toklo snorted impatiently. “I can catch you a fish if you want.”

  Kallik glanced at the river raging past. “Let’s wait for the water to calm down. I don’t want you washed away—” She stopped, her gaze flicking toward Lusa.

  “It’s okay,” Lusa grunted. “We can’t ignore the river forever.”

  Yakone pushed his way through bracken upstream and bounded onto the shore. A fat grouse dangled between his jaws; a root, wedged behind it, stuck out from the side of his mouth. He picked his way across the loose rocks and laid the grouse beside the raccoon. The root tumbled after it and landed on the warm prey. “It smelled sweet.” Yakone nosed the root toward Lusa. “I thought you might like it.”

  Lusa took it, her eyes brightening. “Thank you.”

  Toklo felt his shoulders loosen. Was Lusa starting to feel better? He rested on his haunches and watched her nibble the root. Yakone settled beside Kallik and tore a chunk from the grouse. Toklo bit into the raccoon, savoring the taste. It had been moons since he’d tasted raccoon. The flavor brought memories flooding. Oka had caught a raccoon once and shared it with him and Tobi. She’d nudged Toklo away as she tried to persuade Tobi to eat some. Had she been scared he’d steal his brother’s share?

  Lusa’s growl cut into his thoughts. “Why didn’t Ujurak save Chenoa?”

  Toklo glanced at Kallik. Did she have an answer? He’d wondered the same thing himself. Ujurak had saved each of them before, one way or another. Why had he let the river take Chenoa?

  Kallik dodged his gaze. “I don’t know,” she confessed.

  “Isn’t he watching us anymore?” Lusa persisted.

  “Of course he is.” Kallik stared at the grouse in her paws.

  Lusa tipped her head on one side. “Perhaps he didn’t like her traveling with us.”

  Anger flared in Toklo’s belly. “Don’t be a fish-brain!”

  Lusa’s eyes widened. “I just wondered if—”

  Yakone interrupted. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  Toklo blinked at him.

  “Ujurak would have stopped me from getting this far if he didn’t like other bears traveling with you.” Yakone puffed grouse feathers away from his nose.

  “How could he stop you?” Toklo barked. “Ujurak wouldn’t hurt a bear!”

  “But he didn’t save Chenoa,” Lusa fretted. “Perhaps he trusted us to save her ourselves.”

  Toklo swallowed. The raccoon flesh scraped his throat and hit his belly hard as stone.

  “There was nothing we could have done,” Kallik reminded her.

  “Then why didn’t he save her?”

  Kallik touched her nose to Lusa’s head. “Ujurak can’t save every bear in the world.”

  “I’m not asking him to!” Lusa snapped. “Just Chenoa.”

  Toklo pushed the rest of the raccoon away. His mind was whirling. Had Ujurak really seen Chenoa struggling and decided not to help her? Toklo’s heart burned. Perhaps he hadn’t known Ujurak as well as he thought.

  The rain eased as they set off again, and slowly the river calmed. They trekked through the day, and by dusk, it was running smoothly once more. And the shore had widened. As they reached a stretch of pebbly beach, Yakone slowed. “Let’s stay here for the night.” He gestured with his muzzle to the river. “It looks like a good fishing spot.”

  Kallik started snuffling among the boulders at the top of the beach. “I’ll get some bracken and make a nest here.”

  Toklo sat down, relieved to rest his aching paws. He watched Lusa pad into the shallows and stare at the water washing around her paws. Did she really think Ujurak had let Chenoa die?

  Yakone splashed past her and dove into deeper water. A moment later, he surfaced, a fish in his jaws.

  Toklo stared at the setting sun. A breeze lifted his fur as it slid behind the trees.

  “Don’t you want some fish?” Kallik called from the beach.

  Toklo shook his head. “Not hungry.”

  Kallik curled her lip. She must have noticed that he’d eaten hardly any of the raccoon. But she didn’t question him. Instead she lumbered into the forest. She returned quickly with a bundle of bracken in her mouth. Carefully, she used the stalks to line a hollow among the boulders at the top of the beach.

  “It’s getting dark,” she warned as Lusa and Yakone padded to join her. “Are you coming to sleep, Toklo?”

  “In a while.” Toklo watched the clouds tearing open to show the moon. The river raced past, and soon he could hear Yakone snoring. The stars glittered across the sky. Toklo picked out the sparkling needle-prick shapes of Ujurak and his mother. “Are you still watching us?” he whispered. Wind whisked through the trees. “Why did you let Chenoa die?”

  Gravel crunched beside him, and fur brushed his pelt. Toklo stiffened as the scent of Ujurak warmed the air.

  “Please don’t doubt me.”

  Toklo jerked around. “Ujurak?” He couldn’t see his friend, but he knew he was near.

  “I’m sorry Chenoa died,” Ujurak murmured in his ear. “I wish harm to no bear. But I cannot promise that your journey won’t be dangerous. Have courage, dear Toklo. You’ll get home someday.”

  The air suddenly smelled of pine and water once more. Ujurak had gone.

  Toklo’s pelt bristled. You didn’t tell me why! He dropped to his belly and thrust his nose on his paws. Why did you let her die? Staring at the river, he flexed his claws. This journey is taking forever. I just want to get home. Toklo’s belly suddenly fluttered with fear. But what will happen when I get there? Am I leading my friends into more danger?

  “Come on, Lusa!” Yakone galloped along the wide beach. “Race me!”

  Kallik huffed in Toklo’s ear. “It’s sweet of him, trying to cheer her up.”

  Toklo grunted. “Yeah.” Lusa was ignoring the white bear as he bounced around her encouragingly.

  The river had narrowed. It crashed past, churning over rocks. White water foamed, throwing sparkling spray into the sunshine.

  Kallik nudged Toklo. “Do you want to race?”

  Toklo stared ahead. Why wouldn’t Ujurak tell him why Chenoa had to die? “No, thanks.”


  A shriek pierced the air.

  Toklo halted. “What was that?”

  Kallik was already sniffing. “Flat-faces.”

  Toklo jerked around. “Where?” As he spoke, a shape appeared on the river upstream.

  Lusa and Yakone hurried toward them. “Flat-faces,” Yakone warned.

  Kallik nodded. “We know.”

  Lusa pointed to the shape rushing downriver. It bounced over the waves.

  Another shape followed, then another, then more. Toklo narrowed his eyes. The flat-faces were riding in brightly colored logs. Each log held one flat-face. Pointed at each end, the logs skidded over the water faster than birds. The flat-faces squealed, waving broad-headed sticks in their hands and dabbing them in the water as they guided their logs past jutting rocks.

  A disapproving growl rumbled in Yakone’s throat. “What in all the spirits are they doing now?”

  “At least they’re not killing trees,” Lusa muttered.

  Logs carrying small flat-faces scudded toward them. Kallik stared in disbelief. “They’ve brought their cubs.”

  Yakone flicked his nose toward the trees. “Let’s get out of sight.”

  Toklo nodded and headed upshore. Kallik sprinted after them. “Hurry up!” she barked over her shoulder. Lusa was still on the pebbles, her gaze fixed on the bobbing flat-faces.

  “What are you doing?” Toklo barked. Alarm pricked him as the excited squeals of the flat-faces sharpened into terror. He saw one of the brightly colored logs roll sideways as it hit a crosscurrent. It tipped its flat-face cub into the water and slid away. The cub tumbled downstream, flailing and screaming as the churning water battered it. The other flat-faces started shouting and beating the waves with their sticks, trying to get closer to the cub, but the current swept it away too quickly.