The Longest Day

by Erin Hunter

  Lusa trotted across the BlackPath, which felt cool against her paws.

  Toklo was lingering on the shoulder, staring up at the sky.

  “Hurry up!” Lusa called.

  He crossed the path toward her, a question in his eyes. “Did Ujurak help you today?”

  “I saw him,” Lusa confessed. “He was among the trees. But he didn’t do anything except tell me to stay calm.” She looked sadly at Toklo. “I thought he might turn into a moose and move the logs, but he didn’t.”

  “But Kallik and Yakone came,” Toklo reminded her. “Perhaps Ujurak knows that we don’t need him so much now.” He padded around the stacked logs. “Do you know Miki’s scent?”

  “No,” Lusa admitted. It had been a whole suncircle since she’d seen him. “But I know the scents of the others, so I could spot a different one.” She sniffed the crushed grass where the logs had been. Had Miki been trapped among them? She smelled only the fear scents of Chula and Rudi—and Hala’s blood. Grief seared Lusa’s heart once more as she thought of the dead she-cub. She pushed it away. “He must have run into the woods,” she called to Toklo. “I can only smell the others here.”

  “Come on.” Toklo was already shouldering his way past a thicket of brambles.

  Lusa hurried after him as he disappeared among the pines. Her heart sank as she saw the trees stretch into shadow on every side. The forest was huge. “He could be anywhere,” she breathed.

  Toklo brushed her ear with his muzzle. “He’s smart—he’s probably going to stay close to the BlackPath, where he last saw the others. We’ll find him.”

  Lusa rubbed her head affectionately against his fur. “Thank you for coming with me,” she murmured. “Miki must be wondering where his friends are.”

  Toklo didn’t answer. Lusa saw him frown.

  He thinks Miki might be dead. “Don’t!” Lusa scolded. “We have to believe he’s okay.” She walked forward, then stopped and looked up at Toklo. “Did you ever think I was dead?” she asked. “When I was missing?”

  “Sometimes,” Toklo admitted. “But I never acted like you were. I vowed not to do that until I knew for sure.”

  Lusa started walking again. “Then that’s what we’ll do for Miki,” she vowed. “We brought the others home.” Even Hala and Hashi. “We can’t leave him out here alone.”

  “Do you think Ujurak’s still watching?”

  “Of course he is!” Lusa glanced up at the small snatches of sky she could glimpse through the canopy. “What else would he be doing up there?” As she spoke, a bear scent touched her nose. It wasn’t Ossi’s or Tibik’s.

  She darted forward, sniffing at the grass sprouting between the pine roots until she smelled it clear and strong. It was definitely black bear scent. “This way!” She broke into a run, stumbling over trailing brambles. Her legs were numb with tiredness, but she was so close. She had to keep going.

  The ground sloped downward, and she skidded on pine needles as it dropped into a small clearing. A dark shape was slumped against a tree on the far side. In the weak dawn light, Lusa recognized Miki.

  “He’s here!” She raced toward Miki, her heart pounding. He wasn’t moving. Don’t be dead! Oh, please don’t be dead! She braced herself for a fresh wave of grief as she scrambled to a halt beside him.

  Warmth pulsed from the black bear’s pelt. His flank touched Lusa’s nose as it rose and fell. “He’s alive!” Bright-eyed, she turned to Toklo.

  Relief shone in his gaze. “Well done, Lusa!” he chuffed. “You found him!”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Of course you could.” Toklo moved past her and nudged Miki’s cheek gently with his snout.

  Miki still didn’t move.

  Quickly, Lusa checked him for wounds. She smelled blood behind his ear and felt heat in the fur there. “He’s been hit in the head.”

  “He might not wake for a while,” Toklo warned.

  “We have to get him back to the camp,” Lusa insisted. “He’ll be safer, and I have herbs there to treat him with.” She had leaves left over from treating the others.

  Toklo crouched down. “Can you heave him onto my back?”

  Lusa had already grabbed Miki’s scruff and was straining to lift him. Ducking lower, Toklo slid beneath the unconscious bear and jerked him onto his shoulders. He straightened up and walked carefully back across the clearing.

  Lusa trotted beside him, her weariness swept away by relief. “Thank you, Toklo,” she whispered.

  Toklo glanced at her. “No problem. It’s what friends are for.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Toklo

  Toklo slowed as he neared the black bear camp. Miki lay heavily on his back. He didn’t want to carry the injured bear past the brambles that marked the edge. Would Lusa want him to meet her new friends now, when they were still reeling from the firebeast disaster? She’d talked warmly of Pokkoli, Chula, Ossi, and Tibik as they’d trekked through the woods, but the black bears had more to think about now than getting to know a strange brown bear.

  Sunlight was seeping between the trees, and Toklo felt an urge to get back to the brown bears’ territory. With Oogrook gone, and the others jostling for leadership, he ought to be there. It’s not because I want to be their leader, he told himself. But he didn’t want to appear like an outsider to the other brown bears, not when alliances among them were already strained. “I’ll leave Miki here.”

  Lusa looked at him, her eyes so sleepy that he wondered if she’d heard him.

  “I’ll leave him here, okay?” he repeated.

  “Okay,” she mumbled.

  Toklo touched his nose to her cheek, then crouched down. “Can you grab his scruff and ease him off?” he asked her.

  “I can manage.” Miki’s grunt took him by surprise as the black bear climbed down from his back. “Thanks for carrying me.” Miki stumbled, wobbly on his paws, and Lusa came over to prop him up with her shoulder.

  “You’re awake! How are you?” she asked the black bear.

  “My head hurts,” Miki growled.

  Lusa began to steer him past the brambles. “I can find some herbs that will help.”

  Toklo watched her wistfully. She reminded him of Ujurak—so ready to help, and so knowledgeable now.

  Lusa glanced back at him. “I’ll see you soon?” It sounded like a question. Was she worried they wouldn’t meet again?

  “Of course!” He might have to act like a brown bear now, but Kallik, Yakone, and Lusa would always be like family.

  Lusa’s eyes shone and she dipped her head, then guided Miki into the black bear camp.

  Turning away, Toklo heard grunts of surprise. Paws crunched over leaves, and barks of welcome rang though the trees.

  “Miki! You’re safe!”

  “Where did you find him, Lusa?”

  With a feeling of relief, Toklo pushed his way through the ferns, heading for the shore. At the edge of the forest, he narrowed his eyes. The lake sparkled as the sun lifted above the horizon. Even this early, Toklo felt its heat through his pelt.

  He could see Hattack lounging on the largest rock. Acting like he’s leader already. The other bears were stirring on the beach. Toklo watched a young grizzly lift his head from his nest and scan the shore. Two males were already in the water, pushing past each other as they dove for fish. A group of young bears gathered at the edge of the forest; Toklo studied their rippling pelts and the sharpness in their barks at one another. Were they arguing over which part of the forest each would hunt in? he wondered.

  Toklo’s belly rumbled, but he was too sleepy to hunt. He just wanted to lie in the shade at the top of the shore and sleep.

  “Toklo!” Shesh hailed him as he clambered out of the lake, water dripping from his pelt. He shook out his fur as Toklo approached. “Where have you been?”

  Tuari gave a snort. “He’s probably been catching fish before those white bears can get them.”

  Shesh lumbered closer. “His pelt’s dry.”
/>
  Toklo shrugged. “I was exploring.” Guilt pricked beneath his pelt. Was he ashamed of Lusa, Kallik, and Yakone? No! But he knew the brown bears were uncomfortable with his connection with black bears and white bears. Why stir up hostility among his own kind?

  Shesh nodded toward Wenona, who was glaring at Hattack. “Wenona’s been trying to persuade the others that no one should sit on the parley rock until a new leader is decided.”

  Toklo grunted. “It looks like Hattack doesn’t agree.”

  Tuari kicked at the pebbly shore. “Wenona’s right. That stone is for the Longest Day ceremony. It was Oogrook’s stone.”

  Shesh glanced sideways at Toklo. “The sooner we get a new leader, the better.”

  That’s not my problem. Toklo changed the subject. “Caught any fish today?”

  “No.” Shesh twitched his damp fur. “I was just in the lake to cool my pelt.”

  Tuari nodded to Toklo. “Do you want to come fishing with me? You can show me how you caught that salmon last gathering.”

  Wenona snorted. “Toklo got lucky, that’s all.”

  A ragged male crunched across the pebbles. “That was more than just luck,” he growled.

  “I just want to sleep.” Toklo stifled a yawn.

  “It’s too early to sleep!” one of the young bears by the trees called to him. “Come hunt in the forest with us!”

  An old she-bear stepped forward. “We should be collecting sticks for the Longest Day gathering!”

  The young bear snorted. “You do it! Hunting is more important.”

  “But it’s nearly the Longest Day,” the she-bear insisted. “We came to the lake to honor the spirits, not to hunt.”

  “I’m hungry!” Another young male lifted his snout. “The Longest Day will happen whether we pile up sticks or not.”

  “Why do the spirits want sticks, anyway?” Wenona put in.

  The ragged male scowled at her. “It’s not the sticks they want; it’s our respect.”

  The old she-bear nodded. “Gathering sticks for the ceremony was a great honor when I was a cub!”

  Wenona turned her snout toward the lake. “When you were young, there were so many fish you only had to put your paw in the lake to find one. Life is harder now. There isn’t time for stick gathering.”

  Toklo saw the old she-bear’s pelt ripple with annoyance. “We must make time to show respect to our spirits,” she snapped.

  “Even if it means starving?” Wenona scoffed.

  Toklo stepped forward, feeling his fur crawl with tension. “There’s time for hunting and stick gathering.”

  A male cub skittered to a halt in front of the old she-bear and stared earnestly up at her. “I’ll help you gather sticks!”

  The she-bear’s gaze softened at once. “Ah, Akocha.” Fondness warmed her growl. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  Akocha’s mother, Tayanita, was proudly watching her son from the other side of a smooth white boulder. “Akocha knows what’s important.”

  Wenona huffed and walked away. Akocha puffed out his chest and bounced after the old she-bear as she lumbered toward a scattering of sticks that had been washed up close to the waterline.

  “I’ll help, too,” Tayanita offered, following.

  Shesh watched them go. “I’m glad not every young bear is only interested in hunting. Life can’t only be about finding food and shelter. There must be more that we share, otherwise why come here every Longest Day?”

  Toklo blinked at him, wondering whether the shady patch of sand farther up the beach would make a good place to nap.

  Shesh went on. “If Oogrook were here, he’d make sure every bear knew why Great Bear Lake is so important. This was where Arcturus once traveled. I don’t even think the young bears remember the story.”

  “They will, at the ceremony.” Toklo began to pad heavily up the beach.

  “But how?” Shesh followed him. “With no one to lead it?”

  Toklo was only half listening. “Why don’t you lead it?”

  “I’m too old,” Shesh answered. “I’m surprised Oogrook died before me.” He quickened his pace, pulling ahead of Toklo so that he could look back at him. “Oogrook was impressed by you.”

  Toklo stopped as the old bear blocked his way. “Really?” I only caught one fish.

  “Perhaps Oogrook would have asked you to lead the Longest Day ceremony if he’d lived to reach the lake.”

  Toklo stared at him. “Me? Why?”

  “Someone needs to remind the bears that we share the same spirits.” Shesh’s cloudy gaze suddenly shone with urgency. “I came here from Smoke Mountain. The hunting on the journey was poor. There were too many mouths chasing too little prey. We should have worked together. We should have shared. Then no bear would have gone hungry.”

  “Brown bears have always competed for territory and for food,” Toklo reminded him.

  “That was when prey was rich.” Shesh held his gaze. “Times have changed. We need a leader. Someone who can teach us to work together to survive.”

  Toklo padded around him. “I don’t want to lead anyone,” he grunted. “Someone will become leader soon enough. Plenty of bears want to. Just wait a little longer.”

  Pebbles crunched behind them. “Are you still going on about Toklo and his salmon, you old fool?”

  Toklo turned to see Hattack glaring at Shesh.

  Shesh squared his shoulders. “I think Toklo should be our new leader. Oogrook would have—”

  “I don’t want to be leader,” Toklo interrupted.

  Hattack’s eyes flashed. “What kind of bear doesn’t want to be leader?”

  Toklo began to turn away once more.

  “Are you a coward?” Hattack called after him.

  Anger cut through Toklo’s weariness. He faced Hattack. “I’m no coward! But there are other bears here more deserving of leadership than me.”

  “Of course there are,” Hattack hissed. His gaze flicked around the other bears in earshot, who were turning their snouts toward Hattack, their eyes alight with interest. Hattack’s eyes sparked with challenge as he looked at Toklo. “Or maybe you want another bear to shoulder the responsibility. After all, you’d rather travel with white and black bears than travel alone. Are you scared that you can’t look after yourself?”

  Toklo pressed his claws into the pebbles. “Why don’t you go hunt? Lying in the sun has clearly made you grumpy.”

  Shesh chuffed with amusement.

  Hattack bristled. Then his nose twitched. He leaned forward and sniffed Toklo’s pelt. Toklo drew away, unsettled. Why couldn’t Hattack leave him alone?

  “You smell of black bears,” Hattack growled.

  “So what?” Toklo countered.

  “Traitor!” Hattack showed his teeth.

  The other bears shifted uneasily.

  “Are they going to fight?” Elsu whispered to Holata.

  “Hush,” Holata silenced him.

  Hattack stuck out his chest. “Where have you been, Toklo?”

  “Helping my friends!” Toklo snapped. “You must have heard about the firebeast accident! Two bears were killed on the BlackPath. I joined the search for one who was missing.”

  Hattack grunted. “Black bears! They can’t even help themselves. They’re so pathetic they don’t deserve to be called bears!”

  “Be quiet!” Shesh barged past Toklo, his pelt bristling with fury. He stopped a muzzle-length from Hattack and scowled up at him. “If Toklo chose to help other bears, that just shows he is a better bear than you ever will be!”

  Hattack held the old bear’s gaze for a moment, then jerked away. Fur rippling along his spine, he stomped down the beach and waded deep into the lake.

  Shesh watched Hattack lunge beneath the water. “Let’s hope that cools him off,” he muttered. His gaze flashed around the watching bears. “No need to stare. There’s nothing to see here.”

  As he spoke, the other bears turned away sheepishly. Toklo started walking toward the inviting s
hade at the forest’s edge.

  “You’re a good bear,” Shesh’s whisper sounded in his ear. “But you will need to learn how to be loyal.”

  Pelt prickling with frustration, Toklo realized that the old bear was still following him. “I am loyal!” To bears that I care about.

  “You’re a brown bear,” Shesh murmured, his voice calm and reasonable. “It will just be easier if you stick with your own kind.”

  Toklo kept walking.

  “My friends needed help!” How could Shesh find anything wrong with that?

  “We all face problems,” Shesh pressed. “Instead of worrying about black bears, you could be helping your own kind—bears who need you.”

  Toklo stifled a sigh. Was Shesh still hinting that he should lead the others? “I’m tired,” he grunted. “Give me some peace.”

  He heard pebbles swish and fall silent as Shesh halted. Walking away from the old bear, Toklo growled under his breath. All he wanted was some rest. Couldn’t everyone leave him alone?

  “Toklo! Toklo!” Akocha’s excited bark sounded from along the shore. The young bear was racing toward him, his paws flying over the stones. His mother Tayanita followed wearily behind. “Can we go exploring?”

  “I was going to rest,” Toklo told him as Akocha skidded to a stop.

  “What do you need to rest for?” Akocha stared at him with round, innocent eyes. “I thought it was only old bears who needed rest.” He glanced back, sympathetically, at his mother.

  Tayanita looked pleadingly at Toklo. “Can you explore with him for a while? His father is . . .”

  “My father’s dead,” Akocha announced bluntly.

  Toklo closed his eyes for a moment. He remembered begging Oka and Tobi to play with him when he was a cub. Tobi was always too sick and his mother too tired.

  “Please?”

  Toklo opened his eyes to see Akocha staring at him hopefully. “Okay.”

  Gratitude shone in Tayanita’s eyes. Toklo nodded to her. Akocha was already plunging into the ferns. “Don’t run too far ahead,” he called.