by Helen Moss
I found one last scrap of strength and paddled like crazy. My claws scraped against solid ice. Newton pulled me out of the water. Trevor and Maia took the rope from my mouth and hauled the crate ashore.
I fell down onto the snow. Newton licked my fur to warm me. “Looks like a bite,” he said, sniffing at a patch of blood. “Did something attack you?” I pretended I didn’t hear. I wasn’t going to admit that I’d almost bitten my own leg off. I looked around. The wolves and the sled were all safely out of the water.
Suddenly the man from the sled was crouching beside me. “Goodboy!” he murmured. That’s one of the human words I do know. Lucy says it when she’s happy with me. I licked the man’s face to tell him I was glad to help. He patted me and ruffled my ears. Then he picked up the crate and took it back to the sled.
Titch lumbered over to see how I was doing, slipped, and crash-landed on top of me. It was like being sat on by a horse. A horse that stinks of pigeon poop and has a bad case of fleas. She dropped something from her mouth. “I found this in the van. Put it on. You’ll look like a prize goofball, but it’ll keep you warm.”
It was one of Lucy’s quilted vests. Bright pink with polka dots. I wriggled into it and put my front legs through the holes. Maia and Trevor giggled. Titch was right. I did look like a goofball. But at least I was a slightly-warmer-than-freezing goofball.
And I soon had more to worry about than polka dots.
The wolves were running toward us.
8
A LONG WAY FROM HOME
The leader of the wolves stood tall, his tail curved high over his back. His fur was thick and black, with splashes of white on his chest and one front leg. The others gathered behind him, their backs to the wind. They smelled of fish and wet fur.
We all bowed to show we knew he was boss. All except Titch, that is. She squared up to him. “Watch it, Cat Breath!” she snarled. “You and your pals could have killed me back there!”
I was starting to see why Titch had been in so many fights.
To my surprise, the lead wolf didn’t even show his teeth. “Thank you,” he said, turning to me with a friendly sniff. His voice wasn’t loud, but it made you listen. “You young pups got us out of a tight spot.”
“Young pups?” I almost laughed out loud. We hadn’t been young for years. But then I remembered the bounce in my legs. And how Newton had heard those distant calls on the wind. And now I thought about it, the white hairs had vanished from Maia’s muzzle. Trevor wasn’t so barrel-shaped. Even Titch had some of her missing teeth back.
Somehow, we were puppies again. I looked at Newton, but he was shaking his head. Even he didn’t have an answer this time.
A wolf with jet-black eyes pushed her way to the front. “Pah! We’d have gotten clear of that little crack in the ice by ourselves just fine!”
“That may be true, Fox,” said the lead wolf firmly. “But it would have taken much longer.” He nudged my shoulder with his nose. “You are one very brave pup,” he said. “You saved the serum. What is your name?”
“I’m Baxter, Mr., er, Wolf, sir. But I’m not brave. I was really scared.”
“Being scared is the biggest part of being brave,” the wolf said with a smile. “Being scared, but going in all the same. Pleased to meet you, Baxter. I’m Balto.” Then he laughed. “But we’re not wolves. We’re Siberian huskies. Let me introduce the team.” He pointed with his muzzle at two stocky dogs with identical black-and-white markings. “Jack and Jet are our wheel dogs. The powerhouse at the back. They’re brothers.”
“Yeah, I’m the cool, handsome one,” said Jack.
Jet grinned. “In your dreams!”
Balto nudged the strong female. “This is Fox. She runs just behind me, alongside Tillie.” A pretty female with a white marking in the shape of a lightning flash nodded at her name. “Then there’s Slim and Billy in the middle. And Mischa and Nutty … where are they?” Balto looked around. Two of the huskies were lying near the sled. The man was crouching next to them. “The human is called Kaasen,” Balto added. “He’s our musher. He helps out and takes care of the sled.”
Trevor, Newton, and Maia introduced themselves. “I’m a papillon,” said Maia. “My show name is Magical Mariposa, but my friends call me Maia.”
“Or Princess Fluffybutt when you’re not listening!” Titch snorted with laughter. “Enough of this small talk. Any of you wolves know where we can get some decent tacos around here?”
“Tacos?” Balto looked blank.
“Yeah. Or pizza?” Titch looked at the other huskies. “Anyone? Pot stickers? Kebabs? I’m not picky.”
No one replied.
I shivered under my vest. “Can we go home now?” I asked Newton. “It’s too cold in Miami.”
“Mi-ami?” Fox repeated with a frown. “You guys must be lost. This is western Alaska.”
I’d never heard of western Alaska.
But it sounded like a long way from home.
9
BAD NEWS
“Bad news, boss!” barked Jack, running back from checking on the injured dogs.
Jet was right behind him. “There’s no way Mischa and Nutty can pull the sled any farther,” he panted. “They’ll have to walk back to the last roadhouse and wait for us there.”
Balto pawed the ground in frustration. “But we have to get to Port Safety tonight to hand the serum over to the next team. If it doesn’t reach Nome in time, the human pups could die.”
Newton tilted his head. “Aha. Now I understand. This serum is a kind of medicine.”
“That’s right,” said Balto. “We’re on a mission. The young humans in Nome are getting sick. The serum is the only thing that can save them. It comes from a city many days’ run east of here. We’ve formed a relay so we can run at top speed without resting.” He puffed out his chest in pride. “All the best sled-dog teams in Alaska are taking a turn.” Then he sighed. “But now we’re losing two of our best dogs…”
I didn’t know anything about serums or relays. But I knew about human pups getting sick. Lucy had a fever last spring. She lay in her bed for days. She didn’t want to eat or play. Maybe it was because of that memory. Or maybe it was because Balto had just called me brave. Whatever the reason, the words popped out of my mouth. “We’ll help!”
Fox laughed. “Help? I don’t think so.” She glanced at our collars and my polka-dot vest and curled her lip. “You’re just pets!”
Balto smiled at me. “Thank you for the offer, Baxter, but…”
Tillie nudged his side. “Balto, wait. This could work.” She had a quiet, gentle manner. “Newton and Baxter look young and strong and it’s not very far…”
Balto nodded slowly. “The extra leg-power would help us make up time, I guess. Well, Baxter? Newton? It would only be for one day. What do you say?”
I said yes, of course. I was more scared than ever. But the calls of the sled dogs had stirred something deep in my heart. My legs twitched, impatient to be off.
Newton hesitated. I knew he wanted to go home. The mom of his human family had a new baby, and she relied on Newton to protect the older pups. But the humans in Alaska needed him, too. “Just one day?” he said. “I guess my family could manage without me…”
“I’m coming, too,” said Trevor. “It’s my duty as pack leader.”
Since when, I wondered, had Trevor been pack leader?
“And me.” Maia bounced up and down, her ears flapping like wings. She couldn’t bear to be left out of the action. “I can run like the wind.”
“I’m sorry,” Balto told them. “You two are a little small.”
Fox sneered. “Yeah, we don’t need pip-squeaks!”
Trevor wasn’t giving up that easily. “We’ll ride on the sled and keep the crate warm. Your human clearly doesn’t want it to get cold.” I glanced across at Kaasen. He was loading the crate onto the sled, carefully wrapping it in fur blankets.
Balto nodded. “That’s right. The serum won’t work if it freezes.�
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Trevor stood to attention. “That’s settled, then. Crate Protection Unit reporting for duty.” He nudged Maia. “Stand up straight!”
“I guess that’s a no on the tacos, then,” Titch muttered. She turned and headed for the van—at least, where I guessed the van must be. It was impossible to see that far through the swirling snow. “I’ll work on opening that refrigerator door while you’re gone,” she called back.
Balto explained the plan to Kaasen. The musher was smart for a human and soon got the message. He buckled us into our harnesses. Then he attached leather straps—our tug lines, the sled dogs called them—to join the harnesses to the central line from the sled.
The Crate Protection Unit—aka Trevor and Maia—snuggled up with the serum under the fur blankets. Kaasen climbed onto the runners at the back of the sled. Newton and I stood shoulder to shoulder behind Billy and Slim. Beneath my vest, my heart pounded as if trying to burst out of my chest.
At the front of the team, Balto lifted his nose to the wind. “He’s trying to pick up the trail again,” Jack explained. “It’s tough in this blizzard. Snow is drifting over the trail, and the wind is blowing the scent markers all over the place.”
“If anyone can do it, Balto can.” Jet was jogging on the spot, all the buckles on his harnesses jangling. “He’s the best trail finder in the business.”
Jet was right. Moments later, Balto’s tail went up. “Okay, team,” he shouted. “Get ready! It’s showtime!”
10
WORSE THAN A BEAR
We were on our way!
Pushing off with my back legs, I tried to run. The weight of the sled pulled me back. Jet tripped over me. The sled picked up speed. I shot forward and plowed into Billy. I veered to the side and knocked Newton down. The sled almost ran over us. Why did I think I could do this? I’m slowing the team down, not helping them! But after a few more tumbles, I got the hang of it. Soon I was flying over the snow, striding, gliding like a greyhound, the fastest Labrador the world had ever known. I glanced at Newton. He had a big grin on his face. “This is awesome,” he panted. “Even better than rounding up sheep.”
It was awesome. It was hard work, too. The sled grew heavier. My lungs burned. My legs ached. But I thought of those human pups in Nome, and I kept on running. I thought of Lucy, too. Her scent wafted up from the polka-dot vest. Apples. Marshmallows. Pencils. I knew she would be proud of me.
We’ll soon be there, I chanted under my breath.
The wind bit our faces, freezing the breath in our noses.
We’ll soon be there.
I was almost asleep on my paws when I heard barking from the sled behind me. It was Trevor. “Attention! Attention!” he shouted. “Incoming scent on the wind.”
“I bet it’s rats!” said Newton. We both laughed. Trevor could smell a rat if it lived on the moon.
But we all could hear something now. Growling, snorting, roaring. It didn’t sound like rats. Up ahead to the right, on the crest of a steep slope, a huge dark shape loomed out of the blizzard. It didn’t look like rats, either.
“Bear attack!” yelped Jack.
“No!” shrieked Jet. “It’s worse than a bear!”
Fear grabbed me by the throat.
How could anything be worse than a bear attack?
11
DON’T PANIC!
The shape charged down the slope toward us. It had shaggy fur and a hunched back. Antlers sprouted like branches from its monstrous head.
“Moose attack!” shouted Jet and Jack.
“Don’t panic!” barked Balto.
Too late. I’d been seriously panicking since Jet said worse than a bear.
“Gee!” screamed Kaasen.
What did gee mean? Tillie had told us the commands the musher would use, but my mind was a blank. Turn left. That was it! I swerved with the rest of the team. But we were turning too hard. I felt the pull on my tug line as the weight of the sled slewed wildly behind us. It was going to tip over.
“Straighten up!” shouted Balto. We dug in our paws and swerved the other way, dragging the sled back into line. “Now stop!” he commanded.
“No!” yelled Newton. “Run faster!”
A memory flashed into my head. Crossing the street with Lucy. A truck hurtling down the hill toward us. I freeze with fear. But Lucy pulls on my leash and we dash to the other side of the road. The truck just misses us. Now I knew what Newton meant. The moose was like that runaway truck. It was galloping faster and faster down the steep bank. There was no way it could stop or turn, even if it wanted to.
“Are you crazy?” yelled Fox. “The moose is going to smash right into the side of us. We’ll be flattened!”
There was a frenzy of confusion as some of us sped up and others slowed down. Then Balto’s voice rose above the commotion. “Go! Go! Go!” he roared. “Newton’s right. It’s our only chance.” He surged forward and all at once we were pulling together again. Heads down, legs at full stretch, we sped along the trail. The moose thundered closer and closer. I could see the snow clinging to its fur. It reared up, huge hooves pawing the sky. I closed my eyes. It’s going to trample us. I braced for the stamp of a hoof on my back.
It didn’t come.
I opened my eyes. We’d made it! The moose was behind us. A clatter jolted through my tug line as the moose kicked the back of the sled. But with one last spurt of speed we pulled clear.
“The moose can’t stop,” shouted Trevor from the sled. “It’s trying to turn, but—oof!—it’s run headfirst into a snowdrift.”
We all cheered. But then Maia barked. “Oh no. It’s getting up…”
I looked over my shoulder. The moose was chasing us along the trail. We sped up again. At last, with a shake of its massive head, the moose slowed to a shuffle. It had given up. Even so, it was some way before we felt safe enough to stop. “Easy! Whoa!” called Kaasen. We all flopped down, laughing with relief.
“Good job, Newton!” gasped Tillie. “Your brainstorm saved us. I ran into a moose attack with my last team. It trampled two of my friends,” she added sadly. “They never ran again.”
I shuddered. Moose were definitely going onto my Things I’m Most Scared Of list.
“Don’t forget the Crate Protection Unit,” said Newton. “It was Trevor who raised the alarm.”
Jack and Jet laughed. “Not bad for a pip-squeak!”
Trevor sprang down from the sled. “Nothing gets past a Jack Russell’s nose,” he said. “We’re born hunters.”
Meanwhile, Balto’s nose was pointed into the wind. For a long moment, he stood still and silent. When the lead dog spoke at last, it was not good news. “I’m afraid we’ve gone off course,” he said. “We’ve run past the Port Safety roadhouse.”
12
TOUGHER AND ROUGHER
Fox snapped her teeth at Balto. “You idiot! How could you have missed the roadhouse? We’ll have to double back now because of your goof-up.” She turned to Kaasen, her tail swishing with anger. “Make. Me. Lead. Dog. Again.” She barked each word extra slowly to try to make the musher understand.
Jack rolled his eyes. “Hel-lo! We’ve just escaped from a rampaging moose.”
“Yeah,” said Jet. “That’s not goofing up.”
Fox snarled. “Slim? Billy? You want me in charge again, don’t you?”
The two huskies lowered their heads. “We trust Balto.”
“Sorry, Fox,” said Tillie gently. “But you did lose the trail last night…”
Fox turned away, chewing miserably at her tug line. I felt sorry for her, even if she did call us pets and pip-squeaks. I wished I had something to chew on, too. I’d dropped my tennis ball near the van. Gloom settled over the team like a dark shadow. Doubling back to Port Safety would take time. Time we didn’t have. The serum might reach Nome too late to save the human pups.
All of a sudden, Balto thumped his white front paw down on the snow. “I’ve got an idea. There’s no need to go back. How about we keep going to Nome?”<
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Tillie looked up at him. “Deliver the serum ourselves, you mean? Instead of handing it over to the next team?”
Balto nodded. “It would be quicker…”
“We’re in!” Jack and Jet cheered.
Even Fox muttered, “I guess so.”
Balto’s voice was serious as he looked around at his team. “We’ll have to take a short cut across sea ice to join up with the trail. It’ll be a tough run in this storm.”
My legs felt as tired and creaky as they had when I was old. But I wasn’t going to let Balto and the human pups down. I looked at Newton. He nodded.
“What are we waiting for?” I said.
* * *
I thought the journey had been pretty tough already. But it was only when we reached the sea ice that I found out what tough really meant in the sled-dog world.
The storm was fiercer here. The wind blew low and mean. It sliced straight through the polka-dot vest and poked at my bones. It swept the snow away as soon as it landed on the frozen ocean. Kaasen had rubbed wax into our paws to protect them, but shards of ice stabbed and scraped with every step.
I fixed my gaze on Billy’s bushy tail and plodded on and on.
The sea ice grew rougher. We stumbled over ruts and ridges. The runners rattled and jolted. Around us, slabs of ice were stacked up in higgledy-piggledy piles. “I … hate … jumble … ice!” puffed Jack.
“Gets broken up…,” panted Jet, “… thrown around … by waves and wind.”
