by Erin Hunter
“Kallik, tell us what’s wrong,” he said, but once again the white she-bear ignored him.
“I think I understand,” Yakone said after a moment. “This must be the metal bird that was carrying Kallik when it fell out of the sky. Kallik, you can’t do anything about it now.”
“I’ve got to find Nanuk.” Kallik almost spat the words out. “I left her here, all alone.”
Unearthing more chunks of metal, she started heaving them aside, scraping at the snow underneath them until she reached the bare, brown earth.
“I have to find Nanuk’s body,” she muttered, half to herself. “I can’t leave it here.”
She kept digging down frantically. Toklo drew in a horrified breath as he saw that the jagged scraps of metal were scratching at her legs and paws, smudging her fur with scarlet blood.
Yakone thrust himself between Kallik and the twisted metal scrap she was trying to shift. “Kallik, stop!” he exclaimed. “There … there won’t be anything left of Nanuk, not now.”
Kallik stopped her desperate digging, raising her head to look into Yakone’s eyes. She took two or three shaky breaths; at last she said, “I keep losing bears who are important to me. My mother, Taqqiq, Nanuk, Ujurak, Kissimi …” Toklo could hear her pain in each name as she spoke it.
“But we’re still here with you,” Yakone reminded her.
Kallik’s gaze was still full of sorrow. “I know. But how much longer? What would I do if I lost you, or Lusa, or Toklo?”
“You won’t,” Toklo said instantly, then wondered if that was true. We’re bound to split up soon, to find our own homes.
“I wish I could believe that,” Kallik responded, clearly understanding what he hadn’t said. “I think about those others, and I know sooner or later it will happen again.”
“The past is the past,” Yakone murmured. “We have a long way to go, and a lot more surviving still to do....”
Kallik let out a long sigh. “I know....” Turning to Lusa and Toklo, she added, “I don’t know why, but I felt I had to see Nanuk again. I couldn’t say good-bye to her properly before, and I wanted to.”
“We understand,” Lusa responded sympathetically.
Kallik gave Toklo a doubtful look, as if she expected him to dismiss her grief, or to make a joke.
But I know all about losing bears who mean a lot. Toklo knew he would never forget the little mound of earth and sticks that had covered Tobi.
“Yes, it’s okay,” he assured her. “I’ll help you look for Nanuk, if that’s what you want.”
Kallik’s eyes widened in surprise. Looking back at the piles of half-buried metal, she shook her head. “No. We should let her rest where she is,” she replied. “Yakone’s right. Her spirit isn’t there anymore.”
“So this is where you started your journey,” Lusa said, glancing around. “How did you know where to go?”
“I didn’t, at first,” Kallik told her. “But then … come on, I’ll show you.”
Kallik led the other bears inland, up a long, gentle slope and then down the steeper descent on the other side. The land was barren, just a few stalks of long, coarse grass poking up here and there out of the snow.
“Careful,” Yakone warned. “That’s a BlackPath at the bottom.”
Toklo spotted the hard-packed snow the white male was pointing out, and stayed well away from the edge. “Do we have to cross?” he asked Kallik.
“No, but we follow it for a while,” she replied. “This way.”
The BlackPath led alongside thorn thickets with a stunted tree here and there, twisted by the wind. Toklo sniffed the air and picked up the scent of water again, though he thought that they had left the Melting Sea some way behind.
Finally Kallik’s trail left the BlackPath as she led the way up another long, snow-covered slope. Reaching the top, Toklo looked down. The ground fell away sharply in front of his paws; a dark stretch of water lay a few bearlengths below, lapping gently at the reeds that grew at the water’s edge. The opposite side was just visible, a dark smudge of flatter land in the twilight.
“This smells salty,” Yakone observed. “Is it part of the Melting Sea?”
Kallik nodded. “It’s as if the sea is stretching a paw out into the land,” she explained, her voice still quivering a little. “I remember standing here, looking across the water, and wondering where I should go next. Then the moon came out, and the spirits showed me a silver path along the surface, pointing inland. I knew that was the way I had to go.” She stifled a snort of shaken laughter. “I think if I’d known how far away the Endless Ice would be, I would never have started the journey.”
Lusa pressed her muzzle against her friend’s flank. “I’m very glad you did.”
Toklo thought that Yakone was looking at Kallik in a new way, as if he hadn’t fully realized until then what the white she-bear had accomplished. “I know we’ve come a long way from Star Island,” Yakone said, “but the first part of your journey was even farther, and you were all alone.”
“You must have been so lonely,” Lusa murmured.
“Sometimes,” Kallik responded. “But there was a fox.... I first met him just back there, and I was so hungry I stole his prey. He kept following me, so later on I gave him part of a goose I’d caught.” She scuffled the snow with one forepaw in embarrassment. “We were … sort of friends.”
“Friends with a fox!” Toklo exclaimed. “Now I’ve heard everything.”
“And I had Nisa and Taqqiq to keep me going,” Kallik went on, her eyes deep pools of memory. “Sometimes I thought I could see them. I often heard my mother’s voice, encouraging me.... So I wasn’t really alone.”
“You’ll never be alone again, Kallik,” Yakone told her.
“But I still have to say good-bye, don’t I?” Kallik seemed to have recovered from the shock of finding the metal bird, but her voice was filled with sadness. “I’m going to lose you, Toklo and Lusa, and I wish I didn’t have to.”
“Well, that’s the whole point of going home,” Toklo pointed out. “We’re going back to our real lives, remember?”
He abruptly turned to go, then halted and looked back at Kallik. “Do you want to spend the night here?” he asked her.
Kallik gave him a surprised look. “Yes, please,” she replied.
The bears scrambled down the steep slope and found a sheltered spot beneath a rock about halfway to the water’s edge, and dug into the snow to make a den.
“This stuff is getting wetter,” Toklo grumbled, scooping out pawfuls of half-melted crystals. “It’s going to be really uncomfortable to sleep on.”
“We’ve slept in worse places,” Lusa said, curling up inside the den.
“True,” Toklo admitted, crawling in after her.
Kallik and Yakone didn’t follow them into the den. Instead, they walked off side by side, down the slope as far as the shore, where they sat together on a rock that jutted out over the sea.
Lusa sat up again. “Should we go with them?” she asked. “Do you think Kallik’s okay?”
“Let them be,” Toklo responded. Looking at the two white bears so close together, he felt a sharp pang of jealousy. Kallik needed Yakone now, more than she needed him and Lusa. Yakone is the bear she will share the rest of her life with, he thought, trying to thrust away the pain.
He lay for a long time with his nose on his paws, watching Kallik and Yakone on the rock. When at last they came back, treading softly so as not to disturb their friends, he pretended to be asleep.
The following morning, the bears got ready to set out along the edge of the sea, where the sparse outcrops of trees gave way to a bleak, empty landscape.
“Maybe we should swim out and hunt on the ice,” Yakone suggested to Kallik as they emerged from the den.
Kallik halted. “Maybe … but the ice is a long way out. I think I’ll just stay here and hunt with Toklo.”
Surprise pricked Toklo. I wonder if Kallik thinks the ice is breaking up too fast. She might be afraid of m
eeting orca.
“Come on.” Yakone tried to persuade her. “The ice isn’t all that far.” He gestured with one paw; in full daylight it was easier to see where this long paw of water met the main sea, with the ice shimmering on the horizon. “We won’t have many more chances to hunt seal.”
“You go,” Kallik said, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ll stay here.”
Weird, Toklo thought, though he knew there was no point in looking for reasons. It would be good to hunt with Kallik again.
“Okay.” Yakone briefly touched Kallik’s ear with his snout before striding away toward the water. Glancing over his shoulder, he added, “I won’t be long.”
He splashed his way through the reeds and plunged into the sea, swimming strongly down the narrow channel until his head was just a little cream-colored dot in the water.
I’m glad I don’t have to swim out all that way to hunt, Toklo thought.
Instead, he led the way inland, climbing a low hill. Before he reached the summit, he could hear a muted rumbling sound and glanced up at the sky, half expecting a storm. But the sky was a clear, pale blue from one horizon to the other.
Then Toklo reached the crest of the hill. His jaws gaped as he took in the scene in front of him. A gentle slope led down into a flat plain; moving across it was a herd of bison. They were huge, their shaggy pelts blasted by the wind, and there were so many that Toklo couldn’t begin to count them.
Whirling around, he dashed back down the slope until he reached Lusa and Kallik. “We have to hunt now!” he gasped. “There are bison over there—a whole herd of them!”
“What?” Lusa exclaimed, her eyes stretching wide in shock. “Those things are huge!”
“Exactly,” Toklo replied. “That’s why we’ll all sleep full-fed tonight.”
“Why not wait until Yakone comes back?” Kallik suggested.
Toklo shook his head. “Who knows how long he’ll be? The bison might move on. No, it’s too bad we have to do it without him, but we can’t miss this chance.”
Kallik hesitated a moment, then nodded.
Toklo led the way back to the crest of the hill and peered out from behind a rock. Kallik and Lusa crowded up behind him.
The bison were making their way across the plain, leaving a broad swath of trampled snow behind them. They moved slowly, pawing at the snow with their hooves to uncover the grass, then stopping to graze.
“This is what we’ll do,” Toklo said, the thrill of the hunt rising up inside him as a plan formed in his mind. The rumble of the bison’s hooves seemed to echo his heartbeat. The scent that wafted toward him on the wind made him want to hurl himself down the slope and into the midst of the shaggy beasts, to fasten his jaws in the throat of his prey. But he made himself stay calm and focused.
“We’ll start by getting the bison running. Then, Lusa, I want you to run along the outside of the herd,” he began. “Be sure to stay downwind. Pick out one bison—a calf would be best,” he added, suddenly realistic about the size of animal they could tackle successfully, “and drive it away from the rest of the herd.”
“But all the others will come after Lusa,” Kallik objected. “She’ll be squashed flat.”
“That’s where you come in, Kallik,” Toklo told her. “You follow Lusa, and once she cuts her bison out of the herd, you attack the rest of them. Drive them back so they stay away from Lusa.”
“Drive back a whole herd of bison,” Kallik muttered. “Yeah, Toklo, I’ll get right onto that.”
“I’ll be ready,” Toklo continued, ignoring her comment. “Once Lusa’s bison is separated from the rest of the herd, I’ll dash in to chase it and kill it. Job done.”
Kallik took a deep breath. “Lusa, are you okay with that?”
Lusa hesitated, then nodded firmly. “I’m ready.”
“Okay.” Toklo’s excitement tingled right through him, from ears to paws. “Let’s do it.”
He leaped out from behind the rock and let out a loud bellow. The nearest bison looked up at him, and some of them started to back away, their movement rippling outward into the rest of the herd. Bellowing again, Toklo charged down the slope, his paws moving faster and faster on the steep incline. He could hear Lusa and Kallik racing down after him.
Panic began to spread through the herd. The nearest group of bison turned to flee, jostling one another as they tried to push their way into the center of the herd. More and more of them lurched around, heading away from the bears, their pace picking up as the herd began to move as one. By the time Toklo reached the bottom of the slope, they were surging like a wave across the plain, their drumming hooves louder than thunder, louder than firebeasts.
“Lusa, now!” Toklo roared.
Lusa began racing alongside the stampeding herd. Toklo and Kallik ran after her. Soon Toklo saw her fix her gaze on a half-grown bison calf that was pounding along on the edge of the panicked animals. As he watched, she darted in, nipping at the calf’s hooves, forcing it to lumber off at an angle, away from the rest of the herd.
“Great job, Lusa!” Toklo shouted.
Kallik rushed past him, facing the other bison as they swerved to pursue Lusa and her quarry. Roaring fiercely, she tried to force them back, a lone white shape facing the rising tide of dark, shaggy animals.
Toklo braced himself for the final chase and kill, where he knew his greater strength would be needed. But then fear jolted in his belly as he realized that Kallik was in trouble. Too many bison were heading her way, and for all her courage, she was in danger of being engulfed in the tide.
One bison charged past her, heading straight for Lusa. Before the black bear could flee, the huge creature was upon her. Lusa was carried off her paws and the bison ran on, trampling her with its sharp hooves. Lusa rolled away and staggered to her paws; Toklo couldn’t see whether she was badly hurt.
Abandoning his plan, Toklo charged in to help the two she-bears, letting out a bellow of defiance. The leading bison turned aside, but those behind pushed them on, and there were still too many. Kallik was surrounded by them, a white spot in a surging sea of dark pelts.
And what happened to Lusa? For a moment Toklo couldn’t find the black bear.
“Lusa, get out of this!” he roared.
“I’m fine!” Lusa gasped just behind him. “Toklo, get the calf!”
Toklo had lost sight of their prey. Then he spotted it, still pounding along a little way from the main herd, but he was surrounded now by the stampeding bison. Toklo struggled to stay on his paws; their reek was in his throat and the drumming of their hooves filled the whole world.
A huge, shaggy male was bearing down on him. Toklo roared right into its face and it veered aside. A gap opened up: Toklo slipped through it, shoving Lusa in front of him. Breaking out of the herd, he bore down on the calf, which fled in front of him, only to stumble over a rock half-hidden by the snow.
Toklo took the chance and hurled himself on the calf. But his paws slipped on the snow and although the calf staggered, it didn’t fall to the ground. Scrambling after it, Toklo leaped again. This time, his rush carried the calf off its hooves, and he bore it to the ground, his claws fastened in its side. While its legs thrashed in an attempt to get up, he slashed one forepaw across its throat. A gush of blood poured out, and the calf went limp.
Breathing hard, Toklo looked up. At first he couldn’t see Lusa or Kallik, only more bison surging around him, as if they wouldn’t abandon their herd-mate even though it was dead. They shoved him aside, butting at him with lowered heads, trampling the dead calf.
“Kallik, help!” Toklo roared.
At first there was no response; Toklo reared onto his hindpaws, his forepaws splayed menacingly, but the bison still came at him.
“Kallik!” Toklo roared again.
To his relief he spotted the white she-bear forcing her way through the mass of animals to his side. Standing together over their prey, they bellowed defiance at the bison. Lusa had climbed to the top of a nearby rock, where she added her r
oars to the surrounding clamor.
At last, like a slowly turning tide, the bison veered away, the whole herd thundering across the plain into the distance. Toklo and Kallik were left standing beside the dead calf, while Lusa slid down from her rock and joined them.
“Well, we did it,” Toklo panted.
He felt no sense of triumph. All three of them were battered and exhausted, and the calf they had risked so much to kill was battered, too, driven half into the ground by the hooves of its herd-mates. Toklo didn’t even feel like eating it anymore.
“We’d better get back,” Kallik said.
Together Toklo and his friends dragged the dead bison back up the slope and down the other side to the makeshift den they had occupied the night before.
“Was it worth it?” Toklo asked as he dumped it in front of the rock, not really expecting an answer.
“No, it wasn’t!” Kallik snapped. “Lusa could have been killed. You can’t expect her to hunt bison; it’s not fair.”
Lusa was moving slowly; clearly the bison who had attacked her had bruised her badly. But her voice was steady as she replied, “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” Kallik retorted. “You don’t even like eating meat.”
“What’s going on?”
Toklo turned to see Yakone trudging up from the shore. He wasn’t dragging a seal; his face and the set of his shoulders showed his disappointment that he hadn’t made a catch.
“Toklo almost got Lusa killed,” Kallik told him hotly.
Puzzled, Yakone looked from Toklo to Lusa and back again. “What?”
“Of course I didn’t mean to put Lusa in danger,” Toklo insisted, baffled at why Kallik was blaming him, and pushing away the awful thought that she might be right. “We’ve hunted like that before; it was just bad luck that it went a bit wrong this time.”
“A bit wrong!” Kallik snorted.
“Honestly, it’s fine,” Lusa said. “I was scared, but Toklo’s right. It was just bad luck, and everything was okay in the end.”
