by Jane H Wood
‘One pup I think is dead, but I know for certain the other lives,’ interjected Borrin impatiently. ‘We must act… Joel is strong and will fight to defend his young. I can’t defeat him alone. Together we can kill the pup then your pack won’t suffer the same fate as mine did,’ he finished, a glint in his eyes, waiting for a reply.
‘But these stories are just fables, tales to frighten and control us. No one believes them anymore. The myths and beliefs of past generations have gone. We survive because we are strong. Where’s your proof?’ demanded Thorn.
Joel had heard enough. He backed out of his hiding place and swiftly ran back to the river. It was dawn when he arrived to find Mira asleep among a group of bushes, with all three pups snuggled close beside her. He nuzzled her face impatiently.
‘Mira, wake up! Borrin has betrayed us. We must leave here now. Kegg is in danger. He wants him dead, and he’s talking the alpha male into helping him.’
The mention of his name, coupled with his father’s urgent voice, woke Kegg from his peaceful slumber.
‘What’s happening, Father? Who wants me dead?’ he asked in a startled voice. His fear was infectious, spreading alarm in his brother and sister too. Mira tried to calm her offspring.
‘Shh, my pups. We will leave here now, calmly and quietly,’ she said, unable to dispel the fear showing on her face.
In silence, the little family crept out of the undergrowth and followed the riverbank, heading north.
Edmund slept on, unaware he was alone again and that the fire was fading in front of him. Eventually the last embers died among the ashes and a chill wind blew onto his face, waking him. It was past dawn, and a pale creamy light was filtering down the mountain peaks, illuminating the lower slopes and the wilderness beyond.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. GoldenEars had left him and, after scanning his campsite, discovered that so had his family. He stood up and stretched, trying to ease the ache in his back and legs. Cautiously he tested his ankle, gradually putting more weight on it. The swelling had definitely subsided, and thankfully it wasn’t painful anymore.
Relieved, Edmund ambled in to the open until he stood beside the riverbank. He felt sad that GoldenEars had deserted him again… No, choked was a more accurate word, because he thought the young wolf liked him, and it pained him to believe that he would just up and leave without so much as a goodbye.
He rotated on the spot, surveying the forest. There were no signs of the wolves anywhere. He called the pup’s name repeatedly, listening for a response… Nothing. Then a thought struck him. Perhaps they’re hunting and would be back soon.
Dropping to his knees at the water’s edge he began to throw the icy water over his face before he fully realised what he was doing. The rude awakening had him gasping and choking at the same time. He quickly stood up and wiped a sleeve across his wet face, feeling wide awake but colder. Satisfied that this was the driest he was likely to get from his wet sleeve, he ascended the slope and entered his campsite.
Several birds erupted from the nearby trees, their wings clattering noisily as they took to the skies. The sounds startled him, and he crouched low against the rocks, pushing his back into the little nook, his eyes scouring the forest for danger.
Without a sound, a pack of wolves emerged through the trees, their heads lowered, scenting the ground beside the riverbank. Edmund stayed perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe. A gust of wind blew onto his face, fluttering his fringe annoyingly over his forehead, but it could prove fatal if he moved even a fraction, so he remained like a statue, blending into the shadows. The wolves hadn’t looked in his direction; each one was preoccupied, scenting the area where his wolves had lain.
His heart was racing and an uncomfortable sensation travelled down his spine. He was in trouble. If they saw him he was under no illusion – they would attack. His eyes slid sideways, trying to gauge the distance to his hideout further along the bank. He had to get to it.
One wolf was ambling towards him, his muzzle to the ground, sniffing intently. Edmund waited, then chanced a glance round the rock, hoping it had moved on… just as the wolf looked up, and their eyes locked.
With a cry of fright, Edmund sprang to his feet and ran for the shelter of his hideout. Behind him he heard several excited yelps, followed by the rush of paws, signalling the whole pack were in pursuit. His shelter was just ahead and, arriving within a few seconds, he quickly squeezed through the narrow opening.
Panicking, he dropped to his knees and in his adrenalin-fired state found the strength to pick up the chunks of rock and pile them in a random heap on top of each other, blocking the entrance at ground level. As he threw the last rock into position, the wolves were there, yelping with excitement, their bodies jostling as inquisitive noses eagerly probed the narrow opening, scenting the air inside his little hideout.
Then just as quickly the wolves moved away, and a thin stream of light filtered inside where he was crouching. On reflection it appeared he was no more than harmless curiosity to the wolves.
Unnerved, he waited a while longer before peering through the gap. All was quiet outside. Rolling the stones out of the way he scrambled on all fours and squeezed partway through the gap, pausing before committing himself fully to the open.
Relieved that they’d definitely gone, he stood upright and wandered down to the river again. He still felt cautious… It was strangely quiet standing there with just the gentle sounds of the water rippling downstream.
There was no sign of life – no animals on the nearby riverbank, nor any birds flying in the sky or singing in the treetops.
Nothing…
The discovery made him nervous and at the same time despondent. But he knew he needed to take care of himself, and dropping to his knees he began to drink.
When he’d finished he sat down on the damp pebbles, racking his brains, wondering what to do. It was clear GoldenEars had deserted him, and now he was really lost.
12
On the air was a low droning hum, fading then growing again, depending on the gusts of wind. Edmund listened, trying to pinpoint its direction, scanning the surrounding boulders and nearby trees for any kind of movement… Nothing.
But there it was again; the sound was definitely heading this way.
A ray of hope stirred him to his feet, and shielding his eyes against the sun he began searching the empty skies. A dot emerged on the horizon, hazy and indistinct. Squinting, he focused on it, trying to figure out what it was. It was then that he caught the occasional flash of light glinting off its metal fuselage, and his heart quickened, detecting the rhythmical thrum of rotary blades.
‘Look! There, Sam! Isn’t that Edmund?’ shouted Bert excitedly.
Both men looked down at the figure poised at the edge of the river.
‘Yeah. That’s him! Thank God he’s all right, Bert!’ answered Sam, relieved the boy hadn’t got himself killed.
He surveyed the lush tapestry of greens far below and felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably, realising they were flying away from the river.
‘We need to land, Dave! I don’t want to travel too far from Edmund!’ Sam said tersely.
‘I understand, Sam, and I’ll land as soon as there’s a clear spot,’ replied the pilot.
Edmund stood still, following the progress of the speeding machine, thankful that his dad had sent a rescue party to search for him.
But then his heart tightened as the helicopter continued on its course, relentlessly moving away from him. It appeared as though they hadn’t seen him after all. In mounting panic he began to run after it, his eyes fixed on the retreating machine.
***
Since leaving the boy at the river, the little family of wolves hadn’t travelled very far. Their journey had been without incident, and Joel wanted to keep it like that. His main concern was for his eldest son, who was struggling to keep up with them.
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Tuke was acutely aware that his family were deliberately going slow on his account, but even so, they were still moving too fast for comfort.
He whimpered, disquiet growing inside him, conscious of the burden that he’d become. If the pack should catch them… He flinched at the thought. Their fate was down to him; he must keep moving. He tried to ignore the pain but it was growing worse by the minute, not just emanating from his hind leg anymore, but spreading along his spine, hindering his ability to move. Even though he tried his best to balance his weight, keeping the bare minimum on his injured hindquarters, every step jarred his bones. His mother remained his constant companion, while Kegg supported his brother on his other side, but it wasn’t sufficient to ease his pain.
Finally, it became all too much, and Tuke called out.
‘Father, please, I must stop!’ he wailed, sitting down abruptly and refusing to go any further.
His father stopped and looked back, his face showing concern, not just for Tuke but for the rest of his family too. He lifted his eyes and scoured the trees behind them, wondering how long they had before the pack caught them.
The sight of his father’s face, so stern and intense, made Tuke lower his head, unable to meet his gaze. But before Joel could reply, Skeena stepped forward, her eyes bright with reproach.
‘There must be something we can do to help our brother. Why can’t we rest here?’ she demanded.
Joel’s expression silenced her. ‘We’re in danger in the open like this,’ he growled. ‘I know it is hard, Tuke, but there’s no other alternative. Son, you must keep moving!’
Kegg sidled next to his brother and nuzzled his cheek sympathetically, hoping to encourage him to continue their journey. Young Tuke nodded and struggled to his paws, not wishing to be the cause of any arguments. He’d come to a decision, and spoke, his tone soft and pleading as he looked in to his father’s face.
‘Perhaps you should leave me. Go on ahead, and I’ll catch you up.’
Before Joel could reply, a noise had every head turning skywards. The sound grew louder, closing in. Then, with a roar, a dark fearsome shape flew over them, deafening and momentarily buffeting the branches and leaves in the surrounding treetops. Instinctively the family ducked down, cowering among the grasses, resisting the urge to run.
But then the threat was gone as quickly as it had come, as the contraption continued on its way.
‘What is it?’ yelped Skeena, nestling close to her father.
More humans, thought Joel, snarling at the retreating monstrosity, offensive and emitting the same noxious smell he’d encountered before.
‘We must move!’ he growled. ‘Look up ahead, just by the dense archway of trees. Can you make it, Tuke?’
Tuke whimpered and took a step forward. Joel nodded, pleased his son hadn’t given up.
‘Good!’ he said, and faced Mira. ‘I’ll run on ahead and find a place to hide. You follow with the pups as quickly as you can.’
Mira looked scared but nodded her agreement. Without further discussion Joel sped off, leaving his family to catch him up.
A while later Mira arrived where Joel had indicated. She stopped, for a mass of dark-leafed vines blocked the way, twisting up the nearby trees and forming a strange archway with its clinging tendrils. With caution she proceeded, sniffing the air and scanning through the tangle of branches and low-lying vegetation of ferns and bracken, with her three pups following in her wake.
A short distance ahead, she spotted Joel, tail in the air and earth flying in all directions. His head and forelegs were lost from view as he worked, frantically digging near the bottom of a hillside. He sensed they had arrived but didn’t pause to look up, so intent was he on excavating a makeshift den. With strong paws he pummelled at the soft earth, digging deeper, until his whole body vanished from view. The only clue to suggest that her mate was inside was the constant shower of dirt and stones being propelled from the deepening hole.
Mira approached him.
‘Joel, why… What is this for?’ she asked, perplexed, watching him back out of the hole.
Tuke arrived beside his mother and promptly sat down. He tilted his head quizzically and spoke to his father.
‘Father, please…’ he whimpered. It was all he could manage to say because he had an uncomfortable feeling this hole was meant for him.
Joel glanced at his son and his expression softened, wondering how he’d react to his plan.
‘My son, I’ve come to a decision. You may not like it but I think it’s best.’ He paused, unsure if Mira would agree. ‘This is for you, son. You can hide inside and we’ll cover the entrance, then the rest of us can make a run for it, lure the pack away. We’ll come back when we’ve lost them, then continue north-east,’ he said, hoping he wouldn’t meet any resistance, because they were running out of time.
His eldest son hung his head uncertainly. Then, coming to a decision, he looked up at his father.
‘Yes, Father, I think that’s best. Hide me. I’ll be fine… Mother, don’t worry,’ he replied, his eyes moist with tears, noticing she was upset too.
Joel didn’t waste any time; he darted back down the freshly dug hole and completed the excavation. He backed out and shook his fur, indicating the den was finished.
Mira sniffed the damp earth before squeezing inside to inspect the space. The den was more than adequate and went back roughly four feet, ending in a wider area where Tuke could rest safely.
‘This is good. Tuke, come inside. I’ll show you where you will be safe,’ said Mira, poking her head out of the hole. She backed up, allowing her son to follow her inside.
Tuke entered without a fuss, determined to be brave. However, he was frightened that they were going to leave him here all alone. As Kegg watched his brother move into the hole, a bad feeling drifted over him.
‘Father, let me stay too. I can look after Tuke, keep him company. And when the danger has gone, we’ll find you. Leave a trail only we can follow, like twigs and stones in a group on the ground,’ said Kegg with such conviction that his father crinkled his brow in surprise.
‘So be it, my sons. I am proud of you both. We will try to come back when we’ve lost them, but if we don’t then follow our trail. Quickly, go inside. We’ll seal its entrance and drag some fallen branches across to conceal the freshly dug earth.’
Minutes later the job was completed and the entrance dissolved among a multitude of twisted branches and dense foliage.
***
In pure panic Edmund had chased after the helicopter, running on blindly through the forest without a thought for his safety. He glanced up every now and then to check on its direction, changing his own when necessary. A dense section of forest lay ahead, the light poor beneath the canopies. His breathing was coming in ragged gasps by now, but he charged on regardless. It was imperative they saw him.
The next moment he was in excruciating pain, screaming and falling to the ground. He had never felt a pain like it before and groaned in agony, turning instantly to grab his left leg.
He was caught in a metal trap. His dad had tried to warn him about trappers leaving these awful things lying on the forest floor, and now he had stepped into one, triggering the central spring to snap shut with alarming speed. Instantly blood spewed between the tapering spikes that had embedded deeply into his calf muscle.
Desperately he tried to relieve the pressure by pulling the metal sides apart with all his strength, but trying to prise the trap open was useless. As soon as he eased the pressure on the sides, even fractionally, they snapped back, digging further into his leg. Edmund was almost crying with the pain as he persisted, using both hands and his right foot to push against it with all his might.
The grizzly bear hadn’t wandered from the area and heard the boy’s cries. With slow lumbering steps it followed the sounds, dragging the rope that was inflicting its own to
rture with every step. It emerged through the trees and stopped. Ahead was a boy frantically tugging at something, trying to free himself. The bear stared, recognising him as the one who’d caused more pain by throwing the rock.
With a roar of triumph it advanced, gradually gaining momentum until it was lumbering at a steady canter. Edmund watched, petrified, knowing he only had moments to live.
In a blur of pain and fear, a gunshot rang through the air, quickly followed by another resonating blast. It was over in an instant as the bear went down with an agonising groan… then silence.
Edmund was shaking with fear, staring at the bear lying a mere eight feet away from him. Protruding from its muscular rump were two red darts, the quick-acting tranquillisers successfully bringing it down in seconds. It lay there motionless, stretched out on the grass, unconscious.
Dazed, Edmund shook his head, his heart hammering, disbelieving that he was alive. A dark shape leaned over him, and a gentle voice spoke to him, while the man rubbed his shoulders, coaxing him to respond. Edmund pulled his eyes away from the bear and slowly looked up into the kind face of a middle-aged man, though not really seeing him. The man studied him for a split second, then spoke to his companions.
‘Quick, let’s get the trap off the boy!’
The men scrambled either side of him and took hold of the trap.
‘You’ll soon be all right,’ assured the man.
The pain eased considerably as his leg was lifted clear of the trap. The evil contraption was tossed to one side, making a loud metallic sound as it clamped shut again.
‘Damn things,’ muttered the man, turning back to tend Edmund’s wounds.
Taking a cloth from his first-aid bag, the man proceeded to staunch the bleeding before binding a thick bandage securely around his injured leg.
It felt better, Edmund had to admit, but it wasn’t instant relief. The unbearable pain had undoubtedly gone, only to be replaced by a deep throbbing sensation, which was beginning to spread through his whole leg. Edmund winced at the feeling but didn’t complain.