Smoke Mountain

by Erin Hunter

  ‘I’m so glad I found you,’ Kallik said. Her heart was too full for her to know what to say. She knew the truth was that they would probably never see each other again. She could also see that Taqqiq was right, and this journey wasn’t for him. But at least she had found him; at least she knew he’d survived.

  ‘I’ll think of you all the time,’ Taqqiq said.

  ‘I will too,’ Kallik said.

  With a playful growl, Taqqiq shouldered into her and knocked her over.

  ‘Walrus attack!’ she cried, leaping up and bowling him over in return.

  They both rumbled small purrs of happiness, remembering.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ she asked, gazing up into his dark eyes.

  Taqqiq nodded. ‘I’m not like those bears,’ he said. ‘You know I’m not. But you’re one of them now. I know they’ll look after you.’

  ‘Yes, they will,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry for taking you away from your friends, Taqqiq.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Taqqiq said. ‘I found them before. I’ll find them again. Or better ones, maybe. Goodbye, Kallik.’

  If only Taqqiq had been like this all along! ‘Maybe we can make it work,’ she tried one last time. ‘I promise I’ll listen to you more. Maybe . . . maybe there’s a way for us all to get along, if you stay. Taqqiq, it’ll be lonely on the Endless Ice without you.’

  ‘I’ll miss you too,’ he said, nuzzling her shoulder. ‘But it isn’t working. You know that. It doesn’t feel right for me.’

  Kallik sighed. ‘If you’re really sure . . .’

  ‘I am,’ he said. ‘Good luck, Kallik.’

  ‘Good luck to you too,’ she said sadly.

  Touching noses one more time, they both stepped back and turned, heading in their own directions.

  Kallik glanced back once and saw that Taqqiq was galloping across the plain, leaping over the scrubby bushes. He still leaned a little to the side as he ran, giving him the funny rambling gait he’d had when he was a cub. She wondered if she would ever know that much about any other bear. Then she turned and fixed her eyes on the far horizon, where the hulking shape of Smoke Mountain loomed. There was a long way to go. They still had to get through the no-claws’ denning place, and then there were all the dangers that Qopuk had warned them about. It would be a hard journey.

  For a moment she thought about how easy it would be to turn and follow Taqqiq. But she’d had her sign. The message of the moving star was clear. Her paws carried her on, back to where Lusa and Toklo and Ujurak were sleeping. She had to keep going, to find the place where the ice spirits came down to the earth and danced.

  CHAPTER NINE:

  Lusa

  ‘Lusa, wake up.’

  Somebody poked her with his nose.

  ‘Go ‘way,’ Lusa mumbled. This was why it was better to sleep in trees. Brown bears couldn’t climb up and poke you there. They’d have to sit and wait until you woke up at a more reasonable time. But she’d been too exhausted to climb a tree last night, and the trees by the stream didn’t look particularly comfortable anyway, with all those thorns. A patch of soft grass under the branches had been good enough.

  ‘Lusa,’ the voice said again, and this time she realised it was Toklo. ‘Lusa, Kallik and Taqqiq are missing.’ Lusa rolled to her paws and shook the sleep out of her eyes.

  ‘Missing?’ she echoed, craning her neck to see past him. She could see the mashed and flattened patches of grass where the two white bears had slept. ‘Where did they go?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Toklo said. ‘They were gone when I woke up.’

  ‘Same here,’ Ujurak said, splashing through the stream behind her with water droplets dripping from his muzzle. ‘I didn’t hear them go.’

  Lusa padded over to the hollow where the white cubs had curled up to sleep. There were two indentations in the grass the size of Taqqiq and Kallik. She could still smell their scent, a faint smell of fish and ice and thick fur. Lusa sniffed round the hollow and found the spot where the scent began to move away. They’d set off in the opposite direction from the Big River and Smoke Mountain.

  Lusa felt a pang of worry shiver through her fur. She took a few steps along their trail, her nose pressed to the ground.

  ‘I already did that,’ Toklo said. ‘They went that way.’ He jerked his head towards the rising sun.

  ‘But that doesn’t lead to the Big River!’ Lusa exclaimed.

  ‘No. I know,’ Toklo said. He sighed, dabbing one paw in the river. He couldn’t meet Lusa’s eyes. ‘They went back the way we came – to Great Bear Lake. To the other white bears.’

  ‘No!’ Lusa said. ‘They wouldn’t do that! Kallik wouldn’t just leave me!’ She paced round the white bears’ sleeping spot, clawing at the grass in frustration.

  ‘Maybe she would, if she was really mad,’ Toklo growled. ‘I’m sorry, Lusa. It’s my fault. I didn’t mean to drive Kallik away.’ He lifted his head, squinting at the line of pale gold sunlight on the horizon.

  ‘But why would she go without saying goodbye?’ Ujurak said. ‘I don’t think Kallik would do that.’ He looked genuinely puzzled.

  Lusa sniffed the trail again, hoping to find that Kallik’s scent split off and went another way, but the bears had clearly left the trees together.

  ‘You’re wrong, Toklo,’ she said. Even if the white bears were angry at Toklo for attacking Taqqiq, Kallik would have stayed to talk about it, not run away while they were all sleeping. And surely Kallik could understand – she knew about Ujurak changing. Couldn’t she see that Taqqiq might have eaten Ujurak? Lusa knew why it had made Toklo so upset and angry . . . she thought Kallik did too.

  ‘Lusa –’ Toklo began, hunching his shoulders as if he were bracing himself for an argument.

  ‘No,’ she interrupted him. ‘Kallik wouldn’t just leave us. She wants to find the Endless Ice more than anyone! You saw how excited she was about what Qopuk told us. And she’s my friend.’

  ‘We’re your friends,’ Toklo growled. He turned his head towards the dark ridge of mountains that lay in wait for them. ‘Come on – we’ve got to keep going.’

  ‘We can’t go!’ Lusa protested. ‘What if they just went hunting? What if they’re on their way back right now?’

  ‘What if they’re not?’ Toklo countered. ‘How long will we wait?’

  Lusa planted her paws firmly on the earth. ‘I’m not leaving without Kallik.’

  Toklo gave her an incredulous look. ‘What if she doesn’t come back?’

  ‘She will come back,’ Lusa insisted. ‘We can at least wait until the sun is all the way up. I’d wait for you, Toklo. Forever, if I had to.’

  ‘Maybe they haven’t been gone very long,’ Ujurak interjected, wading out of the stream to stand beside Toklo. ‘It wouldn’t hurt to wait and give them a chance to return.’

  Toklo sighed. ‘Fine.’ He splashed into the stream and started licking his wounds. His fur was green in places where he’d used Ujurak’s herbs; it looked as if moss was trying to grow on his pelt.

  Lusa padded over to the stream beside him and lapped up some of the water. This close to the BlackPath, it tasted sooty and kind of gross, but she was thirsty.

  ‘I’ll go find us something to eat,’ Toklo said after a while. He heaved himself up and paced away, his shoulders still hunched.

  A bird was chirping in one of the crooked trees, breaking the stillness of the predawn. Lusa breathed in the smell of the grass and the river, knowing that the air would be clogged with flat-face and firebeast scents the closer they moved to the denning place. ‘We will make it, won’t we, Ujurak?’ she said, turning to the little brown bear. ‘We’ll get to the Last Great Wilderness?’

  Ujurak stopped wiping his paws on the grass and looked at her.

  He’s so small, Lusa thought. No bigger than me. And younger than I am. Are we crazy to be following him?

  No. There’s something different about Ujurak. There’s a reason we believe in him.

  ‘I hope so,’ Ujurak
said. ‘I hope we’ll get there.’

  ‘Thanks for agreeing to wait,’ Lusa added.

  ‘I think you’re right about Kallik,’ Ujurak said, flopping down in the shade of a thorny bush.

  ‘I think Toklo secretly agrees too,’ Lusa said.

  Ujurak chuffed with laughter. ‘He’s all prickles on the outside, like a porcupine,’ he said. ‘But inside he’s like a snail when you dig it out of its shell.’

  ‘That’s so true!’ Lusa said. She thought for a second. ‘Wait, what’s a porcupine?’

  A twig crackled behind her, and she spun round. Kallik was standing on the other side of the stream, looking tired and filthy. Mud was caked in the white fur on her paws.

  ‘Kallik!’ Lusa cried. She leaped out of the water and nuzzled her friend. Kallik pressed her nose into Lusa’s fur, blinking.

  ‘Where’s Taqqiq?’ Ujurak asked.

  Lusa lifted her head and looked round at the quiet marsh that surrounded them. Kallik was alone.

  ‘He’s decided to go back to the Melting Sea,’ Kallik said in a very small voice.

  ‘Oh, Kallik,’ Lusa said. ‘I’m so sorry. I know how much you wanted to be with him.’

  ‘I thought finding him would make everything all right again,’ Kallik said with a sigh. She dipped her paws in the river, letting muddy rivulets stream away. ‘Now I don’t know what to think. I just know I’ll miss him.’

  Lusa couldn’t pretend that anyone else would miss the surly white bear, but she felt a deep pang of sadness for her friend. ‘Well, I’m pleased that you stayed with us,’ she said.

  ‘Me too,’ Ujurak agreed.

  Toklo padded up with a squirrel dangling from his mouth. His dark eyes went from Lusa to Kallik and then scanned the empty landscape around them. He dropped the squirrel next to Lusa’s damp paws.

  ‘I’m glad you came back,’ he said, dipping his head to Kallik. ‘I . . . I’m sorry about your brother. I know I . . . I mean, I could have been –’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ said Kallik. ‘This journey wasn’t for Taqqiq. He belongs with his own friends now.’

  Lusa looked at the warm, shaggy bulk of Toklo beside her. She would be so heartbroken if he left like Taqqiq had. Lusa hoped they didn’t lose anyone else. The ominous shape of Smoke Mountain looming ahead made her feel very small.

  ‘Let’s keep going,’ Kallik said. ‘I’ll feel better once we’re on our way again.’

  They shared the squirrel and a small fish that Ujurak caught, and then together they set off towards the Big River. Lusa noticed that Kallik turned to look back once. Her eyes were full of sadness and her ears pricked forward hopefully. But she shook herself and kept walking, away from her brother and the other white bears. Lusa wondered if she could be that strong.

  Toklo took the lead, as usual, with Ujurak right behind him. Lusa padded next to Kallik. They were quiet for a long time. Lusa wasn’t sure what to say. The smells and sounds of the denning place grew stronger as they drew closer.

  ‘Ujurak’s been trying to teach me to read the signs that lead us on our path,’ Lusa said finally. ‘I think finding you was a sign, actually. Don’t you? I mean, if we’re going to find the place where all bears can live happily, then we should have one of each kind of bear – one black, one brown, one white – and now we do.’

  ‘I didn’t even know there were brown and black bears until I met you all,’ Kallik admitted. ‘I only knew about white bears. What if there are other kinds of bears we haven’t met yet?’

  ‘Other kinds of bears!’ Lusa exclaimed. ‘Like what – green bears? Pink bears?’

  ‘Maybe bears that are black and white!’ Kallik said.

  ‘I think that would look very elegant,’ Lusa teased.

  ‘Would you two hush up back there?’ Toklo called. ‘Chatter, chatter, chatter! Are you bears or are you magpies?’

  Lusa and Kallik exchanged amused looks. Then Kallik’s eyes darkened. ‘Lusa, I saw a sign. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘You did?’ Lusa stared at her in amazement. ‘When?’

  ‘This morning,’ Kallik said. ‘One of the stars in the sky was blinking. And it was moving – in the same direction we’re going! I think it was a message from the spirits to tell us we’re going the right way.’

  Lusa bounced on her paws. ‘I bet you’re right! That sounds exactly like a sign!’

  It was getting close to sunhigh when they reached a BlackPath on the outskirts of the flat-face denning place. This cluster of dens was much smaller than the one around the Bear Bowl where Lusa had grown up. But it smelled strongly of flat-faces and firebeasts, and they could hear the clatter and hum of sounds that always came from flat-face dens. Lusa’s fur felt as if it were crackling from the sharp energy in the air. She shook herself from nose to tail.

  They stopped in the shadow of a tree that was surrounded by bramble bushes. Lusa touched her nose to the bark, wondering if the spirit inside was bothered by having the flat-face denning place so near by. There were several trees on this side of the BlackPath, but not many on the other side, around the dens.

  ‘Let’s hide in here until it gets darker,’ Toklo suggested, clawing some of the brambles aside. ‘It’ll be easier to get through to the Big River when more of the flat-faces and firebeasts are sleeping.’

  ‘If only it stayed darker for longer,’ Ujurak said nervously. ‘I hope we can get across the river before they all wake up.’

  Lusa’s belly rumbled as she crawled into the dark space under the bushes. She felt hot and grubby and absolutely starving. Kallik’s heavy fur pressed against hers as they squeezed out of sight of the BlackPath, and Lusa wished briefly that she could throw herself into Great Bear Lake just for a moment. Then her fur might not be so dusty and itchy.

  There’s plenty of swimming ahead, she reminded herself, thinking of what Qopuk had said about the vast, dangerous Big River. Be careful what you wish for.

  CHAPTER TEN:

  Lusa

  The four bears settled down, and Lusa drowsed with her head on her paws, listening to the rumble of firebeasts a few bearlengths away. Their smell muddled all her senses, and her half-waking dreams were full of their glowing eyes as they prowled. Every so often, she peeped out from the bush; it seemed the sun was stuck in the sky, trapping them in their prickly hiding place forever.

  Slowly, the shadows lengthened and the sky darkened. Bright fire-globes began to blink on in the flat-face dens across the BlackPath, one after another. A twilight gloom settled over the denning place.

  Toklo got to his paws and stretched. He started turning over rocks and scratching in the dirt, looking for grubs to eat. ‘Let’s get far away from these smelly, noisy, firestick-popping flat-faces as quickly as we can,’ he growled.

  ‘Not all flat-faces are all bad,’ Lusa said, thinking of the kind, friendly ones who had fed her in the Bear Bowl. Her friends gave her astonished looks. ‘Well, I suppose most of them are,’ she amended.

  ‘It’s not that they’re bad,’ Ujurak said with a thoughtful look, as if he were trying to puzzle it out. ‘They just don’t think about what they do.’

  ‘Sounds bad to me,’ Toklo grumbled. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Maybe Lusa should lead us,’ Ujurak said, nodding at her.

  ‘Me?’ Lusa squeaked.

  ‘You travelled through a place like this when you escaped the Bear Bowl, right?’ Ujurak said.

  Lusa looked at the other two cubs. Toklo lowered his head to her, and Kallik nodded too. Her friends really trusted her. She hoped they were right. Leaving the Bear Bowl seemed like forever ago. Somehow that flat-face place had seemed more familiar than this one. Perhaps that was because she’d seen part of it from the top of Old Bear’s tree.

  Lusa scrambled out of the bushes and braced her shoulders. She just had to concentrate. She remembered the dens and BlackPaths she’d run through after leaving the Bear Bowl. One thing she had certainly learned – to trust her nose. She looked up and down the BlackPath, lifting her nose t
o the wind.

  The breeze coming from one direction was thick with tangled scents of firebeasts and food: piles and piles of flat-face food being burned, in that funny way flat-faces had of setting everything on fire before they ate it. Her belly growled, and part of her longed to go that way. Perhaps if they were careful, some of that food could be theirs.

  But she knew that where there were lots of firebeasts and lots of food in one place, there would also be lots of flat-faces – lots of awake flat-faces. It would be safer to sneak behind some of the quieter dens and search those big cans of rotfood they kept outside. They needed to get through the denning place without being noticed; that was the most important thing. If flat-faces saw them, they might loose firebeasts on them, or try to hurt them, or worst of all, catch her and take her back to the Bear Bowl. Lusa didn’t want to give up on her journey when she’d come so far. And she especially didn’t want to lose her friends.

  In the gloom, she led the others across the BlackPath and turned the other way, following the curve of the BlackPath past big, glowing dens until she found a smaller BlackPath branching off in the direction of the river. Here the smells and noises were more muted and the dens were smaller, with soft grass and leafy green trees between them.

  The little BlackPath had raised stone paths on either side, shadowed by tall bushes with tiny purple or pink or blue flowers that ran around the edges of the dens. The ground felt hard and strangely flat under Lusa’s paws as they slunk along, pressing close to these bushes. It was easier than walking through grass, because it didn’t trip her up, but it was hot and sticky, and her paws started to itch.

  She sniffed each firebeast as they crept past, but almost all the ones they saw seemed to be slumbering outside the dens. Their hard pelts were silver or red or green or bright blue or black – Lusa even saw one that was yellow like sunlight. She wondered if they got along or if they were friends only with firebeasts of their own colour.

  They saw no flat-faces outside. A few firebeasts crawled past on the BlackPath, but it was so quiet that Lusa heard them coming from far away and could duck into the bushes with the others close behind her.