The Longest Day

by Erin Hunter

“We figured Lusa might need some help,” Yakone told him.

  “I was bringing her food.” Ossi nodded to the berries.

  Kallik grunted. “She doesn’t need food, she needs help looking after these bears. There are too many injuries for one bear to take care of alone.”

  “Then I’ll help her.” Ossi glanced nervously at the others. “I really don’t think you should stay here.”

  A she-bear stepped forward, glaring at Kallik. “Aren’t there any white bears you could go and look after?”

  “Dena, hush!” another warned. “Only a bee-brain starts a fight with a white bear.”

  Kallik bristled. “We didn’t come here to fight. We came to help.” How many times was she going to have to say it?

  More black bears stepped forward, indignation sparking through their fear.

  “You don’t belong here.”

  “We can take care of our own.”

  The cub wailed from the tree. “Make them go away!”

  Frustration welled in Kallik’s chest. She only wanted to help! She glanced at Yakone. Could he say something that would calm these bears?

  He returned her gaze and shrugged. “We should leave.”

  “What about Lusa?” Kallik protested. “How’s she going to get any rest?”

  “I won’t get any rest with everyone fussing about you being here.” Lusa was on her paws and staring wearily at Kallik. “You’d better go.”

  “But—” Kallik began.

  “Just leave, please.”

  Sighing, Kallik stepped carefully over the herbs and headed between the trees. Yakone followed. She felt his flank brush hers as they picked their way along the slope, back toward the white bears’ side of the water.

  The black bears’ fear and hostility seemed to stick in Kallik’s pelt like burrs. “Why couldn’t they just let us take care of them?” she growled at Yakone. “We’ve only ever helped them! It’s not fair.”

  Yakone walked silently beside her.

  “Taqqiq suggested that I wasn’t loyal to the white bears,” Kallik went on. “What’s wrong with being loyal to all bears? Why is it better to look after a white bear than a black bear? Why can’t a black bear learn to trust a white bear?”

  Muttering on, she stomped back to the white bears’ stretch of shore and climbed down onto the beach.

  Illa was standing in the shallows, staring across the lake. She turned as Kallik approached. “Where have you been?”

  Kallik met her gaze angrily. “I was trying to help the black bears! Have you got a problem with that?” Was the Star Island bear going to tell her she was wrong, too? “Not that they’d let us help,” she went on. “They were too worried we were going to eat them.”

  Illa’s gaze flicked to Yakone, and Kallik saw understanding flash between them. They think I’m crazy. Fury was like a fire in her chest.

  “Yakone.” Illa’s growl was gentle. “Go fish with the others.” Bears were diving near the small, rocky island.

  Yakone touched Kallik’s cheek with his muzzle, then waded into the water.

  Illa tipped her head sympathetically. “You sound like you’ve had a frustrating day.”

  “Why can’t black bears and brown bears and white bears cooperate?” Kallik sighed.

  Illa beckoned her closer with a flick of her muzzle. “Come stand in the shallows. It’s hard to think straight when you’ve got hot paws.”

  Kallik realized that her pelt was scorching in the burn-sky sun. She padded down the beach and waded in beside Illa. The cold water washed comfortingly around her legs.

  “It’s the nature of white bears to live alone and fight for survival,” Illa reminded her. “That is the way it’s always been.”

  “But it should change,” Kallik told her. “There are so many dangers now. Firebeasts and flat-faces and poisoned seals.” She felt the weight of it all sweep over her. “We are only going to survive if we learn to work together.”

  “Perhaps that’s true,” Illa murmured. “But bears are not like trees or the ice. We can’t change in a season.”

  “But they don’t want to change,” Kallik complained.

  “Why should they?” Illa asked. “Not every bear has seen all you have seen. You can’t expect them to understand the extraordinary experiences you’ve had.”

  “But if they don’t change, they’ll die!”

  Illa faced Kallik. “We’ve survived since the beginning of time,” she told her. “Times may be hard now, but if bears know one thing, it’s how to survive.”

  The coolness of the water seemed to spread from Kallik’s paws, seeping up through her pelt. “But we’ll survive more easily if we help each other.”

  “True.” Illa nodded. “Why don’t we make a start now? You can help me fish.” Without waiting for an answer, she waded deeper and started swimming.

  Kallik wished she could be as calm as Illa. Splashing through the shallows, she followed the other bear into the deep water. Maybe Illa’s right. Maybe I can’t change everything, however much I want to.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lusa

  “Eat some berries.”

  Lusa ignored Ossi’s plea. “The sooner I get these wounds re-dressed, the sooner I can rest.” The cloudberries Ossi had brought smelled delicious. Perhaps they’d give her the energy she needed. But she felt too annoyed to eat. Why did the black bears have to be so hostile to her friends?

  “Can’t the wounds wait?” Ossi pressed. “You look exhausted.”

  “No, they can’t wait, not in this hot weather.” Lusa began to peel away the drying leaves from around Chula’s leg.

  Chula touched her shoulder with a paw. “Eat a berry, Lusa,” she murmured. “You’ve worked so hard.”

  Ossi picked up the berry branch and dangled it under Lusa’s muzzle. She shoved it away with her nose.

  Miki chuffed with amusement. “Never tell a grumpy bear what to do.”

  “I’m not grumpy!” Lusa snapped. She paused as she saw amusement flash in Miki’s eyes.

  “Just eat the berries, Lusa,” Chula pleaded.

  Lusa’s fur grew hot. She was being grumpy. Tibik was staring at her warily. Who wanted their wounds dressed by an angry bear? At least Rudi was dozing again and hadn’t noticed. Ossi offered her the berries again.

  “Careful, Ossi!” Miki backed away, pretending to be scared. “You might lose your paw.”

  Lusa huffed and sat down. Grunting, she snatched the branch from Ossi and began cramming the berries into her mouth. As their sweetness bathed her tongue, she felt her anger ease. Perhaps it was too much to ask the black bears to accept white bears in their camp. At the last gathering, Taqqiq, Iqaluk, and Salik had stolen their food and taken Miki. I should be more sympathetic to my own kind. She ignored the pang of grief that reminded her that soon all she would know was her own kind; Kallik, Yakone, and Toklo wouldn’t be part of her life anymore.

  She swallowed the last of the berries.

  Ossi peeled a leaf from Yakone’s pile. “Tell me what to do, and I can help,” he offered.

  “Chew the smaller leaves into pulp.” Lusa got to her paws and began peeling more leaves away from Chula’s leg. She ran her paw gently over the matted fur. Some of the swelling had eased, and she could feel the bone underneath. “It’s not broken,” she told Chula. “But you shouldn’t walk on it for a few days.” She looked up and saw relief on Chula’s face. “Does it hurt?”

  Chula nodded. “Yes, but not as much as yesterday.”

  “I want to let the air get to it for a while.” Lusa piled leaves beneath the wounded leg and rested it on them. “I’ll put a new dressing on it soon.”

  Ossi nudged her shoulder. “What should I do next?” His mouth was stained green, and piles of chewed leaves sat at his paws.

  “Ask Rudi where his cuts are,” Lusa ordered. “Lick the sap into them. Make sure you get it as deep as you can, but don’t hurt him.”

  Ossi nodded and headed for Rudi.

  Tibik looked to Lusa. “Can
you give my mother some herbs that will stop her feeling sad?”

  Sheena had moved her gaze from the trees. Hala’s body had been taken by Pokkoli and Dena and laid beside Hashi’s just outside the camp.

  Lusa looked down at the cub. “She will stop feeling sad eventually. And so will you.”

  Rudi shifted as Ossi licked sap into a cut on his shoulder. “I’m hungry,” he growled.

  “I’ll bring you food once we’ve finished,” Lusa promised.

  Rudi ducked away from Ossi. “I’m well enough to forage.”

  Lusa looked at the old bear. His fur was matted and smeared with leaf-sap, and his eyes were dull. “You should rest for another day,” she advised.

  “Pokkoli can organize a foraging party.” Ossi sat back on his haunches and scanned the trees. “Should I go find him?”

  “That’s a good idea.” Lusa blinked gratefully at Ossi as she pulled the dressing from Miki’s head. The swelling behind his ear still looked fiery and there was a gash at the center, but the wound was clean. Lusa searched his eyes for cloudiness; they were bright and he seemed alert. “Does your head ache?” she asked.

  “Like a grizzly’s been stomping on it,” he told her.

  “Can you remember my name?” Lusa was worried his wound might affect his memory.

  Miki crossed his eyes playfully. “You’re Dustu, aren’t you?”

  Lusa nudged him. “Don’t joke!” she scolded. “You’ve had a serious injury.”

  “Okay. No more jokes.”

  Suddenly, Sheena sat up and pricked her ears. Issa was heading toward them, her paws and chest covered in earth. “We’ve dug the grave.” Her gaze flitted uneasily over the injured bears. “It’s time to bury Hashi and Hala.”

  Sheena was the first on her paws, walking on trembling legs toward the trees. Tibik watched her anxiously.

  Miki moved closer to the young bear. “Come on, little one. I’ll take you over.” He nudged Tibik out of the scoop in the ground and steered him across the clearing.

  “Chula?” Ossi was blinking at his sister. “Do you want me to carry you?”

  Lusa shook her head. “Chula should stay here,” she warned. “The less she moves her leg, the better.”

  Chula leaned forward, her eyes glittering with disappointment. “But I have to be at their burial!”

  “You can visit their spirit tree when your leg is better,” Lusa told her. “Hashi wouldn’t want you to make yourself lame for his sake.”

  Chula groaned in distress as Rudi climbed from the dip.

  “I’ll stay with you, Chula,” Ossi offered.

  “No.” Chula shook her head. “You must be there for both of us.”

  Ossi nodded. “Okay.”

  “Promise you won’t put any weight on it,” Lusa told Chula. “I’ll be back soon to change your bedding.” The leaves and ferns lining the nest were growing musty. Fresh fronds would make everyone feel better.

  Ossi fell in beside Lusa as she followed the stream of bears heading up the slope. “Chula’s leg will be all right, won’t it?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Lusa admitted. “But there’s no break or cut, so there’s no chance of infection. I’m sure if she rests it, she’ll be able to walk on it soon.”

  The other bears were slowing, fanning out around the base of a towering pine. Lusa nosed her way between them and squeezed to the front. A deep hole had been scraped out among the roots of the pine. Lusa stared into it. The damp scent of churned earth filled her nose.

  Hashi lay in the shadows at the bottom. Hala was curled in his paws as though she was sleeping. A moan rolled in Sheena’s throat as she peered into the grave. Around her, mothers shuffled closer to their cubs.

  Dustu stood with his forepaws on the edge of the hole. The sunshine filtering through the canopy showed the reddish tinge in his pelt. Sadness filled his small, round eyes. As the other bears settled into stillness, Dustu lifted his muzzle. “I remember Hashi as a young bear. He climbed to the top of this pine on his first gathering and stayed there for two days. We teased him that he was scared, but he said he could see so far across the lake that he didn’t ever want to come down.” Dustu’s voice thickened with grief. “Hashi loved the lake. He loved the beauty of our land, and honored Arcturus for finding the wilderness we made our home.”

  Lusa’s chest tightened. Had Hashi really once been a cub who climbed the highest trees? She glanced up, straining to see the top of the towering pine.

  Dustu went on. “It is fitting that Hashi will be buried here, near the lake that he wanted to look at forever.” His growl grew raspier. “His spirit will live on in this great tree, keeping watch over every Longest Day until there are no more black bears.”

  Sheena lifted her grief-stricken gaze. “And Hala?”

  Sympathy brimmed in Dustu’s eyes. “Such a young bear should not have died. But she is with Hashi, and they can look across the lake together. She will never be alone, nor Hashi. Their spirits will watch over us as one.”

  Sheena’s shoulders slumped. Dena nuzzled her ears and Tibik nestled against her flank.

  Dustu nodded, and the other bears began to push leaves into the hole. They fluttered down, covering the bodies.

  “May your spirits be happy.” Dustu pushed a pawful of earth over the rim.

  “Watch over our land.” Dena let soil sprinkle down like rain.

  Sheena sent more earth showering into the grave. “Good-bye, Hala,” she whispered. “Take care of her, Hashi.” Eyes clouding, she turned and stumbled through the crowd with Tibik and Dena beside her.

  Lusa wished she knew an herb that could ease Sheena’s sadness, but she also knew that sadness, like the night, must be lived through. Dawn always came in the end.

  Her pelt tingled as if someone was watching her. Lusa frowned, glancing over her shoulder. She sniffed the air, checking for strange scents. But she could smell only the trees and earth and the other bears.

  I must be imagining it. The burial had unsettled her, that was all. She turned back to the grave. If only she’d managed to save Hashi. There must have been more she could have done when she’d found him beside the BlackPath. She felt Ossi shift beside her. He was pushing earth into the grave.

  “Do you think I could have saved him?” she whispered in his ear.

  He looked at her. “His wound was too deep.”

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t have moved him.”

  “You couldn’t have left him there. Flat-faces were coming.”

  Miki wove through the crowd toward them. “Are you okay?” He stopped beside Lusa. “You look worried.”

  “What if I could have saved Hashi?” she blurted out.

  Miki steered her away from the others, Ossi following.

  “I’ve tried to tell her there was nothing more she could have done,” Ossi explained. “Hashi was too badly injured.”

  Miki halted beneath an aspen and looked at Lusa. “You did all you could,” he told her quietly.

  “But if I’d known more herbs, I might have saved him.” Guilt churned in Lusa’s belly.

  “You could learn every herb in the forest,” Miki murmured. “But you can’t save every bear.”

  Why not? Lusa knew he was right. Weariness dragged at her fur. She needed to sleep. But she’d promised to find new bedding for the injured bears. Had Ossi asked Pokkoli to find food yet? Rudi would still be hungry. She swayed on her paws, suddenly overwhelmed.

  “Lusa!” Issa hurried toward her with Dena and Leotie. “You must rest.”

  “I promised fresh bedding and food—” she began.

  Issa huffed. “The rest of us can see to that.”

  Dena nodded. “I’ll pick ferns.”

  “I’ll help,” Leotie added.

  “I’ll go foraging with Pokkoli,” Ossi offered.

  “I’ll make sure Chula and the others are comfortable,” Issa promised.

  Lusa gazed at them gratefully. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.” Issa nudged her shoulder
. “Go find a quiet place to rest beside the lake. You look like you need some fresh air.”

  Lusa let the kindly she-bear nose her away. She ambled from beneath the trees, feeling the earth turn to pebbles beneath her paws. A cool wind whipped off the lake and streamed through her fur, refreshing her. Lifting her muzzle, Lusa hurried toward the water. She hadn’t drunk all day and suddenly realized how thirsty she was. Wading into the shallows, she dipped her muzzle into the chilly water.

  A large white shape moved through the waves a few bearlengths out. Instinctively Lusa backed away, fear flashing beneath her pelt. A white bear was swimming toward her. What was a white bear doing over here? Instantly she thought of Taqqiq and Salik and how they’d taken Miki last year.

  “Lusa!”

  She gasped. It was Kallik!

  The white she-bear reached the shallows and began to wade from the lake. “Have you had a chance to rest?”

  “Not yet,” Lusa answered. “We just buried Hashi and Hala. But I’ve eaten. Ossi brought me berries.”

  Pebbles clacked along the shore. Lusa turned and saw a brown bear running toward them.

  “Toklo!”

  Toklo jerked his nose toward a pile of boulders farther up the shore. “Meet me there,” he barked as he neared.

  Lusa could see brown bears watching him from their stretch of shoreline.

  Kallik must have noticed them, too. “I guess he doesn’t want to be seen hanging out with us.” She sounded annoyed.

  Is she thinking about the way the black bears drove her out of the camp? Lusa wondered.

  “Do the other white bears mind you talking to us?” Lusa asked.

  Kallik rolled her eyes. “Taqqiq would call me a traitor.”

  Lusa squinted at the distant white bears’ shore. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of sight.”

  They reached the boulders at the same time as Toklo and followed him into the shadows behind. Toklo nuzzled Lusa’s cheek, then turned to rub his snout along Kallik’s. “It’s great to see you.”

  Kallik huffed and flopped onto the pebbles. “I’ve missed you both so much.”

  “Where’s Yakone?” Lusa scanned the lake, half expecting to see another white head bobbing through the water toward them.