The Longest Day
Page 12
Lusa turned and saw Miki approaching. “Where have you been? You should be resting.”
“I needed a drink.” Miki slid into his nest. “Did you rest?”
“Yes, thanks.” Lusa checked the leaves swathing his ear. “How’s your head?”
“Not as sore as it was.” Miki watched Tibik as the cub placed the ball on his snout again. This time it stayed there for a moment before slipping off. “Did you really know a bear who could balance things on his nose?” Miki murmured.
“He could balance a stick, too,” Lusa told Miki.
“A stick?” Tibik had overheard. “I want to balance a stick.”
Miki plucked up the moss and pressed it onto Tibik’s snout. “Learn to balance this, and I’ll find you a stick.” He glanced at Lusa. “You smell of white bears,” he told her. “Did you visit them?”
“Kallik came to see me.” Lusa searched his gaze for signs of accusation.
“She’s one of the bears who helped save us, isn’t she?” Miki checked. “The one who came back to the camp this morning.”
Lusa nodded.
Miki frowned. “Why does she seem so familiar? She didn’t rescue me.”
“Not this time,” Lusa mumbled.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember last suncircle when Taqqiq and his friends took you?”
Miki’s eyes narrowed. “Was she the white bear who rescued me?”
Lusa enjoyed the look of surprise on his face. “She’s the one. And Toklo.”
“The brown bear who carried me here?”
Lusa sat back on her haunches. “It seems like you’ve spent most of your gatherings being rescued by brown and white bears.”
Miki sniffed. “I guess they have to be good for something!”
Lusa nudged him playfully. “They’ve saved my life a few times, too.”
Ossi stepped up to them. “I’m going to look for grubs.” He looked at Lusa. “Do you want to come with me?”
Lusa paused, waiting for Ossi to ask Miki as well, but as the pause grew longer, Miki spoke. “You go, Lusa. You must be hungry. I’ll stay here and help Tibik practice balancing.”
Tibik was sitting as still as a tree trunk with the moss ball resting on his snout. It dropped as Miki turned toward him.
“I’ve nearly learned it!” Tibik barked.
“I’d better start looking for a stick.”
Lusa looked up at Ossi. “I shouldn’t be gone long,” she warned. “Chula might need me.”
“I can take care of Chula.” Issa leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I’m sure she wouldn’t want to stop you spending time with Ossi.” There was a knowing gleam in the she-bear’s eyes.
Lusa blinked in alarm. “It’s not like that,” she hissed. “We’re just friends.”
Issa glanced at Ossi. “I’m not sure he feels the same way.”
Pelt ruffled, Lusa climbed out of the nest. Ossi was kind and funny, but she could never be more than friends with him. “Come on.” She marched past him briskly, hoping that he didn’t think she was agreeing to anything more than a friendly forage.
He galloped after her as she headed between the trees. “Slow down!” he puffed. “Let me show you where the grubs are. I’ve found a patch that looks like perfect grub soil.”
He looked so happy that Lusa couldn’t feel anything but fond of him. She stepped to one side. “Lead the way.”
She followed as he wove between trees and crashed through ferns until they reached a clearing where a tree stump sat in a patch of bare earth. The soil around the tree stump was dark and crumbly. Lusa sniffed, breathing in the sweetness of the earth and the grubs she guessed would be hidden beneath.
Ossi moved around the trunk and stopped with a gasp. “Oh no!”
Lusa trotted over to his side. Ossi was staring at a patch of freshly churned soil. Grubs were scattered across the untidy heap of earth.
Lusa frowned. “Who would do this?” No smart black bear would forage so messily, or wastefully.
“Perhaps some of the cubs did it.” Ossi hooked a stray grub with his claw and popped it into his mouth. “It’s hardly the feast that I promised you. Sorry.”
Lusa hardly heard him. A pawprint at the base of the stump had caught her eye. She leaned close, her pelt prickling along her spine as she smelled an unfamiliar scent. “I don’t think it was black bears at all. Look.”
The pawprint was large and splayed out, edged by claw marks. But the indent was fuzzy, not sharp like a real bear print.
Lusa glanced nervously over her shoulder, scanning the undergrowth. “Perhaps we should go back.”
Ossi shrugged. “We could try digging on the other side of the stump. There may be more grubs.”
Leaves rustled a few bearlengths away. “I’d rather go,” Lusa urged.
Ossi glanced at her. “Okay.” He popped another grub into his mouth and headed down the slope.
Lusa followed him, listening for any unusual sounds. “Did you see anything strange when you came here earlier?”
“No,” Ossi replied. “Are you worried other bears have been raiding our territory for food?”
“Perhaps.” Lusa didn’t want to encourage negative ideas about brown or white bears. Besides, the pawprint didn’t look like it belonged to either. “It was probably just some cubs, like you said. Perhaps they scraped out the pawprint as a joke.”
“Yeah.” Ossi fell in beside her as the slope steepened toward the lake. “Cubs like to play tricks. Me and Miki used to climb trees and drop berries on the older bears. Rudi thought it was raining bilberries. Another time, we laid a trail of nuts through a bramble patch and lured Sheena right through it. Her fur was so full of thorns by the time she came out the other side, she looked more like a porcupine than a bear.”
Lusa huffed with laughter.
Ossi stopped. “Look.”
Ahead of them, Hashi’s pine loomed among the alders and spruce. Dena and Leotie were piling berries on the grave. Sadness stabbed at Lusa’s heart. The two she-bears were moving very carefully, placing their gifts as though trying not to disturb the spirits of Hala and Hashi.
As Ossi and Lusa joined them, Dena paused and gazed up at the branches. “Hashi was a good leader. So strong when he was young, and so wise as he grew old.”
“The brown bears have lost their leader, too,” Lusa commented. “I heard there have been arguments over who should take his place.” She didn’t dare mention Toklo.
“Brown bears like to fight.” Dena patted the pile of berries and stems tighter together. “That’s why they need a leader. We’re different.”
Lusa frowned. “Who will lead the Longest Day celebrations?”
“We know how it’s done,” Ossi pointed out. “We don’t need someone to show us.” He bent over a patch of ferns and pulled up a fat frond. Earth sprinkled from the thick root as he shook it. Then he laid it on the grave.
“I must go check on Chula and the others,” Lusa told him.
Ossi nodded. “Is it okay if I stay here? I want to find more roots for Hashi. I know he liked them best.”
“Of course.” Lusa blinked at him fondly. “I’ll see you later.”
She headed back to the camp along the well-worn path. Issa had gone.
Tibik was sprawled on the leaves, fast asleep, a short, stout stick clutched to his belly. Miki sat beside him while Sheena held a wad of dripping moss over Chula’s dressing. She let the moisture drizzle over the leaves.
As Lusa approached, Chula looked up, her eyes sharp with pain.
Lusa stiffened. “Is it worse?”
“Not worse,” Chula grunted. “But I wish it would stop hurting for a while.”
“I’ll try to find something to help.” Lusa went into the trees and plunged through a patch of bilberries, long picked clean. Nose twitching, she searched for an herb Ujurak had once shown her. It’s strong, he had warned her. It will make a bear sleepy. Too sleepy to feel anything. Lusa headed downslope toward a stream that marked the edge of
the camp. The herb grew close to water, and as she reached the stream, she was relieved to see dark-green leaves clustered at the edge. She picked two and, holding them softly between her jaws, careful not to swallow any of their sap, carried them back to Chula.
“Eat these.” She held out the leaves. “They’ll make you sleep. You won’t feel the pain for a while.” And hopefully you will wake in the morning feeling much better. Perhaps all she needed was a good night’s sleep.
Chula lapped the leaves from Lusa’s paws.
Sheena stood up and stretched. “I’ll fetch some more water,” she announced, gathering the moss under her paw. “Tibik might wake up thirsty.”
Lusa watched her pad away, relieved that Sheena was focused on her surviving cub once more.
Miki shifted on his bed of ferns. “How was your walk with Ossi?” he asked softly.
Lusa avoided his gaze. “We didn’t find many grubs. Some bear had already dug them up.”
“Ossi likes you.” Miki’s growl was husky.
Heat seared through Lusa’s pelt. “We’re just friends, okay?” Why did everyone need to comment on her relationship with Ossi?
Miki grunted. “It’s okay, you know.”
“What’s okay?”
“If you want to be more than friends with him,” Miki told her.
“What’s it got to do with you?” Lusa snapped.
Miki flinched. “I’m sorry. I just thought you might be worried that—”
Lusa cut him off. “I’m not worried about anything. Ossi and I are just friends. And it has nothing to do with you.”
Tibik stirred beside her. “Lusa? I’m thirsty.”
Lusa turned to the drowsy cub, relieved by the distraction. “Sheena’s gone to fetch water.”
Miki hopped out of his nest, his pelt ruffled. “I’ll go help her.”
Lusa watched him go with a strange feeling in her chest. Why did Miki care about her friendship with Ossi? Why did anyone care about her friendship with Ossi? It was as though suddenly everyone was trying to pair her off. She grunted to herself with annoyance. Who knew having friends could be so confusing?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Toklo
Toklo took a deep breath of dusky air. His belly rumbling with hunger, he scanned the bushes ahead. Pale evening light seeped like water between the trees. He was too close to the heart of the brown bears’ territory for deer to be roaming, but a hare might have strayed into this part of the forest.
He wanted to take something good back to Aiyanna and the other bears from his home. Home! The word rang in his head. That was how he thought of the Forest of Wolves now. It was where he’d return to once he left the lake. It was where he belonged.
His heart leaped when he spotted a plump grouse, its dull plumage camouflaging it against the leafy forest floor. Softening his pawsteps, Toklo crept toward it. The grouse, pecking for insects among the leaves, had been too busy to see him.
The brambles behind him rattled. Paws hit the ground as something exploded from the bushes. The grouse squawked in fright and fluttered clumsily into the air. Toklo spun around, ready to snarl at whatever had ruined his catch.
Akocha skidded to a halt in front of him. The cub’s pelt was ruffled and his eyes were wide with fright. “Is there anyone behind me?” he panted.
Toklo glanced past the cub. “No.” Why in all the stars was this young bear crashing through the woods by himself? “Shouldn’t you be on the shore with your mother?”
Akocha’s flanks were heaving. “I saw a bear!”
Toklo looked around for the grouse, wondering if it had landed somewhere near.
“It was a scary bear!” Akocha puffed. “I think it was a spirit! It wanted to eat me.”
Toklo met the frightened cub’s gaze and tried to hide his frustration. “Spirit bears don’t walk through the forest. They live in rivers. Are you sure you didn’t just bump into some bear who was hunting?”
Akocha shook his head. “He wasn’t hunting. He was just walking. I was looking for the waterfall again and I got lost. I heard the bear, so I went to find him to ask him how to get back to the shore. But when he saw me, he looked angry. I tried to tell him I was lost, but he said the forest was no place for a cub.” Akocha was shaking now. “Then he growled at me like he wanted to hurt me.”
Anger surged through Toklo. What sort of bear would frighten a lost cub? “Did this bear look familiar? Was he one of the bears from the shore?”
“I don’t know.” Akocha’s eyes brimmed with fear. “He didn’t look like them. He looked like a ghost.”
Toklo frowned. Whichever bear it had been, he’d given Akocha a serious fright. “Perhaps you’ll recognize him when you get back to the shore. If you do, tell your mother or me which bear it was. No one should have scared you like that.”
“I’m not going back to the shore by myself. The scary bear might have followed me.” Akocha dug his claws into the earth. “Can I stay with you?”
“Okay,” Toklo agreed reluctantly. “But you have to be quiet. I want to catch something to take back to my friends.”
Akocha’s eyes brightened. “Are they the bears from your old territory?”
My new territory, actually, Toklo thought with a surge of unexpected pride. “Yes. They’re tired and hungry after their journey. I promised to bring them food.”
“I can help you,” Akocha offered. “My mother always sends me ahead to find prey.”
Or to get you out of the way. Toklo headed toward a stretch of ferns.
Akocha followed. “I’m best at spotting birds because I like looking up. Look!” He stopped and raised his snout. “There’s a pigeon up there.”
Toklo saw a fat bird sitting in a high branch. “That’d be great if I could fly,” he grunted.
“Perhaps I can climb the tree.” Akocha was still staring at the pigeon.
“Leave tree climbing to black bears,” Toklo muttered. Leaves rustled beyond the ferns. Was that the grouse? He padded forward, pushing through them so slowly that they hardly rustled.
A brown shape moved. It wasn’t a grouse but a squirrel. Toklo tensed, ready to leap. If I can move fast, I might—
His thought was cut off by a whump and an indignant huff. The squirrel bobbed away and scooted up a pine. Toklo turned toward the noise that had disturbed it. Akocha was sitting at the bottom of a tree, bark scattered around him. Above him, the pigeon looked down from its branch, then flapped away through the trees.
Akocha heaved himself to his paws and shook out his pelt. “It’s really hard to get a grip.”
Toklo scowled. “Stay there,” he ordered. “Don’t climb any trees or call out if you see a pigeon. I need you to be quiet or I’ll never catch any prey.”
Akocha’s eyes darkened. “Will I have to be quiet for long? I hate being quiet. There’s always so much to say. If you knew half the things I wanted to say and didn’t—”
“Hush!”
Akocha sat down. Shoulders slumped, he gazed at the ground.
Toklo felt a flash of guilt. “I won’t be long,” he promised. “And once I’ve caught something, you can talk all you like.”
Akocha glanced at him hopefully but didn’t speak.
Turning, Toklo pushed through the ferns. “I won’t be far away.”
Tiny pawsteps pattered over the ground, and a rabbit raced across his path. Quick as lightning, Toklo plunged after it, pounding through a patch of dogwood as the rabbit streaked ahead. Swiftly, Toklo leaped, slamming his paws onto the rabbit’s spine.
It died as soon as he hit it, its neck cracking as he pinned it to the earth. It was a big rabbit—a buck. Not as good as a grouse, but it would be something to take back to Aiyanna. Snatching it up between his teeth, he turned and headed back to Akocha.
“That was fast!” Akocha leaped to his paws as soon as he saw Toklo. “You must be a great hunter.”
Toklo couldn’t speak with the rabbit dangling from his jaws. He headed toward the shore, Akocha padding beside
him.
“Could I catch a rabbit?” he wondered. “I told you how fast I can run. Would that be fast enough to catch a rabbit? I wonder if I’m faster than you.” He stood in front of Toklo, looking him up and down. “You’re big, but that might slow you down. We should have a race on the shore. Then we’d know.”
The scent of warm blood filled Toklo’s nose. His empty belly twisted as he longed to gulp down the rabbit. He tried to concentrate on Akocha’s chatter to distract himself from the smell, but Akocha was talking so fast, his words seemed to dissolve into a single growl.
At last they reached the shore. Toklo spotted Aiyanna straight away. He headed toward her, then realized that Akocha had stopped. He turned and saw the cub gazing along the shore. Tayanita was pacing the tree line, her face worried.
“I bet she’s looking for me,” Akocha murmured guiltily. “She’s going to be angry that I went into the forest on my own.”
Toklo laid down the rabbit. “You weren’t on your own. You were with me.”
Akocha gratefully blinked at him.
Toklo felt a twinge of sympathy for the young bear. “Here.” He pawed the rabbit toward him. “You can carry this.”
Eagerly, Akocha snatched it up and headed toward his mother, almost tripping over the rabbit’s dangling hind legs.
Tayanita’s eyes lit up when she saw her cub. “There you are!” She trotted toward him. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried half to death.”
Akocha dropped the rabbit at her paws. “I was hunting with Toklo.”
Tayanita flashed a knowing look at Toklo. She sniffed the rabbit, then snuffled Akocha’s ear with her snout. “Is this for me?”
Akocha glanced uncertainly at Toklo.
“Of course,” Toklo told her. He’d have to catch something else for Aiyanna and her friends. But it would be easy, now that he could leave Akocha safely with his mother. He turned, surprised to see Aiyanna staring across the beach at him. Feeling hot despite the cool breeze from the lake, he went over to her.
“I haven’t found you any food yet, but I’ll go hunting again.”
Aiyanna nodded toward Akocha. “You’ve been too busy helping a mischievous cub, by the look of it. Poor Tayanita’s been searching the whole shoreline for him. I thought she’d shred his ears when he got back.” Her eyes sparkled at Toklo. “But it’s hard to be annoyed with a cub who’s brought you a special treat.”