by Jane H Wood
‘Glad you enjoyed it, Ed. I’ll hang the other hares in the shed in a minute,’ answered Sam, mopping up the juices on his plate with a piece of bread.
‘I’ll do it, Sam. We don’t want to attract any bears,’ suggested Bert, standing up.
‘No. I’ll do it!’ Edmund called, making a dash for the door.
‘Hold on, Ed. Do you know how to hang them?’ Sam asked, watching his son dithering at the door. Edmund didn’t know and looked dumbfounded. ‘I’ll show you. Follow me.’
‘No, Dad, just tell me. No need for you to keep working, I can do it. Let me help.’
The process was explained. Edmund nodded his understanding and immediately ran out to the shed.
‘Well, this is a turnaround, Bert. I wonder what happened while we were away hunting. It seems that we have an imposter.’
‘Don’t knock it. Perhaps he’s feeling guilty.’
Both men smiled; the vacation was working, they were going to enjoy it after all.
Inside the shed, Edmund approached the pup and knelt down. He didn’t want to frighten him by getting too close. His little form lay still, his head tilted upwards with clear eyes staring at him. A low growl was growing in his throat, the lips lifting in a warning snarl, revealing sharp white teeth. Edmund shuffled backwards, turning his body sideways, hoping his crouching stance would appear non-threatening. Very gently, he began to whisper, keeping his voice low and his words soothing. But that didn’t make any difference.
If he gave the pup something to eat, it would prove that he had nothing to fear from him, he thought. Moving slowly, he stood up and, removing his penknife from his pocket, cut a leg off one of the hares. With an outstretched arm, he offered it to the pup. The growling stopped while Kegg sniffed the meat, but he refused to move away from his position in the corner. Deciding he was being overly generous offering such a large amount of meat, Edmund sliced a piece off the leg, letting the morsel drop so it landed just in front of his forepaws.
After the briefest hesitation, Kegg picked it up and, after only a cursory chew, swallowed it. His eyes brightened as he looked towards the rest of the hare, and licked his lips. Edmund understood right away and gave him more. By the time Kegg was satisfied, he’d eaten the entire hare.
Later that evening Edmund was lying in bed, lost in thought. He’d managed to hide the pup and had got away with it, so far. He knew that he would eventually get found out. Then what would his dad say? He’d probably be angry that he’d brought a wild animal into their home and not told them. A shiver went down his spine as the awful thought struck him. Maybe his dad would shoot the pup…! No, he wouldn’t let that happen; he would release him long before the situation deteriorated to that level.
Luckily, tonight he is quiet, but what about tomorrow? When he regains his strength he will probably howl the place down in his determination to escape, he thought. That saddened him more than he expected. Then realisation dawned – he cared for the little pup.
6
At the mercy of the river, Mira had fought valiantly to remain afloat, and in doing so she’d unintentionally released Kegg, and he’d slipped from the security of her mouth. The strong current and churning undertow had tugged at her body, pulling her down, then moments later she would resurface, her paws scrabbling wildly in a frantic effort to keep her head above water.
Her firstborn, Tuke, had been buffeted in to the same channel of water as herself, whereas Glyth and Kegg had become separated from them, their small paws working tirelessly but having no effect on their direction.
Within minutes, the young pair were sucked away into a particularly turbulent section of the river, where groups of black glistening rocks protruded from the riverbed, creating whirlpools and white water around them.
Further downstream, the current gradually slowed as the river widened, until it gently meandered along peacefully. It was here that Mira had drifted, unconscious, caught by a cluster of reedy grasses growing in the shallows.
Close by lay Tuke. He’d suffered a terrifying ordeal like his mother, fighting the current and trying to keep his head above water. He lay unconscious, his head resting among a similar patch of reedy stemmed grasses. Unaware of each other, the pair remained there all night, barely hanging on to life.
The sounds of birdsong woke Mira. Wearily she lifted her head and gazed towards the riverbank. This was a new part of the forest to her, having never ventured this far south before. Unfamiliar scents and sounds played on the air, disorientating her senses. A harsh whining noise resonated through the forest, and even though it was a windless day the trees swayed and creaked alarmingly, then the brittle crack of timber succumbing to the inevitable, before the lumbering crash to the ground. The smell of woodsmoke hung thick in the air, mixed with something distasteful that invaded her mouth.
Fear made her move. With determination, she got to her paws and dragged herself towards the cover of the trees. Tuke lifted his head from his grassy cushion and saw his mother struggling up the bank, her fur soaked and bedraggled. Although he was exhausted and his body ached, he pulled himself up on to shaky limbs and limped after her.
‘Oh, my son. I’m so glad you’re all right!’ she gasped, turning to greet him. ‘Are you hurt?’ she asked, deep concern showing on her face as she drew him closer to her side protectively.
‘I ache, Mother, but we’re lucky to be alive,’ he whimpered, his voice brittle with sadness. He turned his gaze towards the river, frantically searching for his brothers. ‘I hope Kegg and Glyth are all right too.’
‘Yes, my son… I hope so too,’ she said, feeling a deep pang of despair. The pair settled down to rest in the cover of the bushes, too weary to move.
A while later, a distant howling drifted on the wind, faint and far away. Mira pricked up her ears – a wolf… no… two wolves were calling. Tuke heard them too and looked at his mother questioningly.
‘Could that be Father’s voice?’ he asked hopefully, his ears standing erect, straining to pinpoint the direction.
With caution they returned to the riverbank, standing motionless, intent on listening, their ears swivelling, trying to identify the voices.
‘Yes. It is your father, and Skeena too!’ yelped Mira, overjoyed. Together they lifted their muzzles to the sky and howled in reply.
They waited; long agonising minutes passed. Then Joel and Skeena appeared through the nearby trees, both panting hard. In a rush of bodies they greeted each other, touching and licking, strengthening the bonds of kinship and love.
After the initial excitement and relief of finding each other, Mira spoke, her voice both pleading and urgent.
‘Kegg and Glyth are still missing. We must search for them!’
‘We will retrace our steps!’ Joel said passionately. ‘Look along the riverbank. We will find them!’
Without another word they turned north through the forest, keeping undercover but also keeping the river in view. After travelling roughly a mile, Mira stopped and scented the air. Joel stopped too, catching the same scent as his mate. He flattened his ears in a warning gesture to his young family. The pups dropped into the cover of the long grass and remained motionless.
With stealth, the adults followed the scent, their heads barely breaking cover where fluffy seed heads swayed on the top of each stem of grass.
It was then the pair spotted a dark shape moving in the shadows ahead of them. It was a black bear burrowing through a pile of branches and twigs cast around the base of a tree. It was snuffling noisily, while its strong forepaws raked them aside. His acute sense of smell was guiding him to a dead animal, hidden somewhere under the mound of assorted branches and dried leaves. An easy meal, he would soon have it. Then, with a snort of triumph, he grasped the body and yanked it out.
The little figure of a wolf pup hung limply from the bear’s jaws as he lowered his bulky frame onto the ground.
In was in that instant that Joel and Mira recognised little Glyth’s lifeless body clenched firmly in the bear’s mouth.
With rage Joel pounced, sinking his teeth into the bear’s shaggy rump. A second later Mira charged forward to join her mate. Shocked, the bear let out a loud bellow, simultaneously dropping its prize and with a lumbering gait fled along the riverbank, releasing a disgruntled snort.
‘Oh, my poor Glyth,’ wailed Mira, nestling her cheek beside his small body, licking his face repeatedly, as though her determination would bring him back to life. Joel watched, too saddened to move. Mira gazed at him, tears in her eyes.
‘How did he get here? And where is Kegg? Is he here too?’ she whimpered.
Joel sniffed little Glyth, then silently went over to the leafy mound of branches where the bear had found him. He pushed his head inside, thoroughly searching the confined space.
‘Kegg is not here,’ he said, lifting his head, the relief evident in his voice. ‘But I don’t think Glyth got under those branches by himself. There is a strange scent on him, one I haven’t encountered before, and these twigs and leaves were covering his body… Only man could do this!’
Turning away, he wandered along the riverbank, searching for his youngest son. He yelped softly, hoping little Kegg was somewhere close by. It was then that he caught a glint of something yellow waving in the breeze. He bounded through the shallows and seconds later arrived beside a cluster of reedy grasses. He lowered his muzzle and sniffed the fine hairs clinging to their stems.
‘These hairs belong to Kegg, and the same unfamiliar scent is here too. I believe Kegg is alive. Though man has taken him!’ He snorted angrily, surveying the riverbank in case their enemy was observing them, choosing their moment to attack. He dithered, noting the breeze touch his face, bringing the familiar scents of the forest and nothing more.
‘We will get him back, Mira, I promise you!’ he said determinedly, curling his lips in a snarl at the impudence of man to take what is not theirs.
‘What about my poor Glyth?’ whimpered Mira, reluctant to leave her dead son. Joel returned to her side and nuzzled her cheek.
‘Our son will go back to the earth where his spirit will be free,’ he said gently, and licked her cheek fondly, noticing the tears brimming in her eyes.
She watched, distraught, as her mate picked up Glyth and carried him back to the jumble of twigs and branches and gently lowered him inside.
‘Put him as far out of sight as you can, Joel,’ she managed to say, watching her mate lay their son tenderly among the soft dried leaves.
The mood was sombre as the family left the sad little body of Glyth. Joel was following the human scent, hoping it would eventually lead him to his son. However, he couldn’t detect the scent of Kegg, but if his assumption was correct this journey would end in their reunion.
After a while Joel came to a halt in the shadows of a towering fir tree. He stared at the open pasturelands and lifted his nose, scenting the air.
‘I have lost the trail!’ he growled. They had to find Kegg soon; he couldn’t allow another pup to die. ‘Find the trail!’ he said, flicking his ears in agitation. The family got to work, their muzzles sweeping back and forth across the ground methodically in a bid to pick up the scent.
A dull rumbling drifted over the treetops, coming from behind them, then another, sounding distant and far away. The family stopped abruptly and scanned the trees, their senses on high alert. The rumbling was drawing closer, gaining momentum, pounding in their ears. A few moments later a herd of elk charged out of the forest, running blindly towards them.
‘Quick! Run!’ shouted Joel, nipping at Tuke’s heels to get him moving.
The family had no choice but to run ahead of the stampeding herd, the sounds of gunfire and thundering hooves ringing in their ears.
7
The following morning Edmund woke early. The prospect of spending the whole day with the wolf pup had played on his mind most of the night. He knew the main reason for his uneasiness was his dad: he hated to deceive him. But he wanted to look after the little pup, and keep it safely hidden too. It was an uncomfortable mixed-up feeling of worry and over-excitement.
The look on his dad’s face last night, well, he had acted a bit strange even for him, he decided. It was up to him to avert their suspicion and give them no reason to stay here today, or he’d be found out for sure. Deciding he couldn’t stay on his back a moment longer, he jumped out of bed.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted into his room, and he dressed quickly in his jeans and tee-shirt, and hurried into the living room.
‘Morning, Dad, Bert. How are you both today?’ he asked brightly. Then he could have kicked himself, for that wasn’t how he usually greeted his dad.
Both men looked up from their bowls, spoons poised in mid-air, surprised by Edmund’s amiable manner.
‘We’re fine, thanks, Ed,’ replied his dad. ‘Are you coming with us today? The forest is beautiful.’
A sudden feeling of panic churned his insides. He couldn’t go and leave GoldenEars all alone.
‘Um, not today, Dad. Um… go without me. I’ll come another time.’
Sam interrupted him. ‘Surely you’re not going to do more cleaning. I think I’d better inspect the shed; it must be the cleanest in the country by now,’ he joked, starting to leave the table.
‘No! No, Dad, it’s a surprise!’ answered Edmund quickly. ‘You won’t believe it when you see it. Besides, I have a drawing I want to finish for Mom,’ he added, nodding his head, desperate to maintain a casual attitude.
His dad shrugged.
‘Okay, son, just as you want.’ His tone conveyed his annoyance.
Sam and Bert left the table, each gathering a few supplies together in preparation for their day’s hunting trip. No one spoke, and a tenseness returned to the air. Within ten minutes a rucksack was filled and, after a reluctant glance from his dad, both men turned and left.
Edmund didn’t like lying – he could see the tight-lipped look of disappointment on his dad’s face – but he would make it up to him later. He watched them slowly disappear through the trees, his dad holding his rifle against his shoulder, the barrel pointing skywards. They didn’t look back. He sighed with relief, knowing he was alone.
A surge of adrenaline raced through his body as he cautiously opened the shed door and peeked nervously inside. Kegg looked up, but remained perfectly still on the hessian sack he’d provided as a blanket the previous day. Surprisingly, the pup didn’t growl this time but instead licked his mouth and stared benignly at him.
He closed the door behind him, realising he would have to cut up another hare to feed to the pup. He didn’t know how he was going to explain the disappearance of two hares, but it was a problem he didn’t want to dwell on right now.
‘Hungry, boy? Would you like some food?’ he asked, cutting up the hare.
Kegg stood up, eagerly awaiting more food, so easily acquired, just by licking his mouth. He ate quickly, gulping down chunks of meat. In just a few minutes the hare was eaten and only the paws and bony head remained. The pup sat down; although he felt better he had taken a hard knock on the side of his head and it felt sore.
Edmund studied the pup closely; he could see dried blood on the right side of his head, just below the ear. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t noticed it before. Moving slowly, not wishing to alarm the pup, he knelt in front of him, striving to see the cause of his blooded fur.
Startled by the boy’s closeness and obvious curiosity, Kegg backed up fearfully. He felt trapped and panicked, darting quickly past him, only to race into the far corner of the shed. The rope reached its maximum length and Kegg felt it tighten around his neck. Frightened by the sudden pain he jumped into the air to get away, the motion flipping him over onto his back, causing the rope to tangle around his legs.
Edmund seized hi
s chance and pounced onto the pup to prevent him from hurting himself. After the ensuing tussle the pup growled resentfully. But Edmund held onto him firmly but gently, cradling him in his arms.
‘Quiet now, boy. You’re all right. I won’t hurt you. Shh now, boy,’ he coaxed, stroking him repeatedly.
Kegg was frightened and wanted to get away. Panting fast he stared at the boy, waiting to see what he would do next.
With gentle hands Edmund parted the fur near the pup’s ear and found the cause of the bleeding. A tiny stone was embedded under the wolf’s skin and was rubbing painfully into his flesh. Using his fingertips, he eased the stone loose. The pup wriggled in his arms and tried to jerk his head away. But Edmund held him securely, repeating words of reassurance while he proceeded to inspect the wound.
After his probing, the wound looked red and sore and had begun to bleed again. Deciding it needed a good clean, Edmund’s attention drifted to the supplies stacked in the corner. Spotting the bucket of water he’d left out earlier for the pup to drink he made a clumsy grab for it, almost knocking it over, and unintentionally released his hold on the pup. Feeling the pressure lift off his body, Kegg darted into the opposite corner of the shed and stood there panting rapidly.
He didn’t know why he’d done that; he had the opportunity to attack the boy who was sitting on the floor with his back partly turned away, his focus on the bucket of water.
Edmund shuffled backwards in alarm, pressing his back against the shed door, realising the pup was free. Terrified, he stared at the wolf pup.
Seconds went by, the two of them waiting for the other to attack, both as scared as the other. Then Kegg sat down and with casual ease scratched his ear. Somehow, his action conveyed a nonchalant air which immediately put Edmund at ease. He sighed, relieved, and dipped the nearby scrap of cloth into the bucket of water, pausing to squeeze out the surplus.
‘GoldenEars, come here. I won’t hurt you. Come, boy,’ he said softly and held out his hand to the pup.