GoldenEars

by Jane H Wood

  When they’d finished the man studied his face.

  ‘Is your name Edmund Rainer?’

  He nodded, then found his voice. ‘Did… did my dad ask you to find me?’

  ‘Yes, your dad reported you missing yesterday. Did you see the helicopter just now? I believe he is with them, searching for you,’ said the man, expecting to see the boy brighten.

  Instead Edmund just nodded, his eyes fixed on the bear lying on its stomach. It was breathing heavily, and mucous-covered strands were dribbling from its nose.

  ‘He’ll be relieved we’ve found you!’ continued the man. ‘We knew a bear was responsible for one death already, so it was essential you were found as quickly as possible.’ The man stopped talking as the animal began to moan.

  ‘Okay, men, tie its legs and muzzle it. Then let’s remove that rope and see what the damage is!’

  Edmund took in their brown uniforms, intrigued because he could see that they weren’t the local police. He watched them working quickly on the bear’s injury. A syringe was removed from their first-aid bag, then something was swiftly administered into the bear’s open wound. The raw flesh was thoroughly examined and cleaned.

  ‘Damn ropes! These kinds of snares are just as lethal as the metal ones. People will never listen. There are signs all over the forests banning their use,’ commented the man angrily.

  Unable to tear his eyes away, Edmund watched, fascinated. The bear appeared to be having a general check-up to see if there were any other problems.

  ‘Who are you?’ he asked, pleased that the men were of the same opinion as himself regarding the traps.

  ‘We are forest rangers, responsible for forest conservation and animal protection in this area of wilderness. My name is Max Johnson, Chief Ranger, and these are my men, Phil and Ryan Scully.’

  Edmund nodded feebly. ‘The bear tried to kill me! And I think it’s been tracking me!’

  ‘I’m afraid bears are persistent hunters,’ commented Max. ‘They are capable of holding a grudge and will track their prey for miles, and for days sometimes. This bear’s injury was caused by the rope snare burrowing into its flesh, and it has also received a blow to its head. It was undoubtedly in a lot of pain, which accounts for its increased aggression.’

  Edmund stared, feeling a small pang of remorse.

  ‘Um,’ he began meekly, ‘the helicopter… Did you see where it went?’

  He broke off, feeling a wave of self-pity. It wouldn’t surprise him if his dad and Bert had decided to leave him to fend for himself in the wilderness.

  ‘It’s dense forest in this section,’ replied Max. ‘I expect the pilot is searching for somewhere to land. So, your dad should be here soon. We need to get you to the nearest hospital. That leg needs attention. I’ll radio that we’ve found you.’

  Max knew they had been very lucky to find Edmund so quickly. A person could get lost out here and die and never be found.

  Edmund thought for a second, then blurted out.

  ‘The wolves! GoldenEars is my wolf pup. I rescued him from the river; he was almost dead. Then the storm, the accident with the shed collapsing. GoldenEars was frightened and ran into the forest. I ran after him. I met his family. They allowed me to stay with them, and I made a camp, caught a fish and found a hideout in the rocks. The wolves disappeared this morning, then shortly afterwards another wolf pack arrived. I hid.’ He paused finding it difficult to talk. ‘I… I think they chased my wolves, but I don’t know where.’

  Max scratched his head.

  ‘That’s an incredible story! I’ve never heard of anyone getting so close to grey wolves before. But wolves are very resourceful and intelligent animals. They have been around for hundreds of years and their loyalty towards each other is unrivalled in many other species.’

  The grizzly bear moaned and moved fractionally, indicating the effects of the tranquillisers were wearing off. The Scully brothers had just attached a radio collar around its neck so they could keep tabs on its location.

  ‘We’re just about done here, Max. The bear was lucky; any longer and that rope would have penetrated the paw too deeply and severed a nerve, then it wouldn’t have been able to walk,’ said Ryan, patting the bear’s leg.

  The three men turned their attention to the bear, preparing to release the ropes simultaneously from its legs and muzzle.

  On the wind came the distant howl of a wolf. Edmund quietly got to his feet and, while the men’s backs were turned, he slipped away into the nearby bushes, unnoticed.

  Painfully, he hobbled, disappearing like a shadow into the dense cover of the forest. His only thought was for GoldenEars; he had to protect him. He was unaware he was walking into more danger.

  13

  Thorn was leading the chase, with Borrin running beside him. The black wolf felt smug with himself, pleased that the alpha male had believed his story and together the pack would do his dirty work for him. Gower had promised him an elevated position within his pack and, if he could persuade some of Thorn’s members to join them, so much the better.

  They approached a thicket of trees and shrubs, where a strange archway of climbing vines entwined in a riot of stems and leaves, masking a shady entrance. Beyond, a dark trail wound through the trees. They all hesitated, uncertain.

  Thorn scented the air for a moment, then recognised the same musky signatures of wolf that he’d detected earlier beside the riverbank. But experience told him to be wary.

  Borrin shuffled uneasily, waiting for Thorn to make a move. The tangle of vines unnerved him, and he took a subtle step backwards. He had no intentions of leading the way, for he’d seen Joel fight many challengers; he was vicious and merciless and was bestowed with a great inner strength, the like of which he’d never seen before in any wolf.

  Thorn snorted at him disdainfully, then tentatively stepped forward, his pack following a pace or two behind him. He held a healthy respect for any pack leader, knowing, as he had himself, the strength and conviction needed to keep such a position.

  After about thirty yards they came to a bank of trees growing up a steep hillside, and near the bottom was an array of leafy branches strewn in a heap as though there had been a crude attempt to camouflage something.

  Thorn immediately detected several different scents on their bark and leaves. Even the soil permeated with the scent of his enemy. He jerked his head upright and gave a sharp yelp into the air. The pack rallied round him and the search began in earnest. Their scent was here… but then it was all around here, and over by the trees… and it continued along the trail too.

  ‘The intruders must have stopped here to rest,’ observed Gallock, ‘though the scent is stronger here,’ said the big wolf, ambling away, his nose to the ground.

  All heads jerked towards Gallock and every wolf quickened their pace to join him. The intruders weren’t far ahead now; they would soon catch them.

  Earlier, Joel had deliberately set a trail, luring the pack to follow. He’d rolled over, then scuffed up the earth before urinating on the ground. Mira and Skeena had copied him, leaving their own scent on the leaves and twigs of the plants as they passed.

  Joel was using all his skill and cunning to keep his family ahead of the chasing pack. Deciding it would be quicker by himself, he’d persuaded Mira and Skeena to take the mountain trail and find a safe place to hide. He knew their scent would be difficult to detect on dry rocks and hoped the scent trail he was leaving would be too tantalising to ignore.

  He knew also that Borrin was behind this and that the pack leader had believed his story. But then, Borrin sided with whomever was in a position of power, doing as little as possible and with the least amount of risk to himself. He was sly and treacherous. Joel felt ashamed to call him his son.

  After his hectic run to keep ahead of the pack, Joel now stood high on a rocky ledge, watching with amusement as the wolves beneath him r
an in all directions in their frenzied search to find him. With cunning, he’d run back and forth, crisscrossing his path, leaving his scent on any available leaf or twig. With a nod of satisfaction he made his way down the rocks on the opposite side, keeping low and out of sight. Once on level ground, he ran, darting between the trees, back to the rocky trail where Mira and Skeena were hiding.

  Thorn was angry; his aggression had reached boiling point, his patience exhausted. This intruder wolf had made a fool of him. He turned to face his pack.

  ‘We have been made to look like imbeciles. I have detected only one scent here. The one we seek is somewhere else. Find them all. I want them banished from my lands!’ growled Thorn, directing a snarl at Borrin. This was his doing.

  Borrin lowered his head submissively, banishment was not what he wanted. He couldn’t help himself, and unwisely spoke his mind.

  ‘But Thorn! The stories I’ve told you. The evilness that has descended over our lands must be removed. The pup, if allowed to mature, will be the end of us all!’ he wailed, forgetting he stood in front of a mighty leader.

  Without warning Thorn charged and grabbed Borrin by his throat, shaking his scrawny body viciously. The pack squealed with excitement, edging closer, eager to finish off the outsider. Thorn’s facial expression halted them. He wasn’t going to kill the snivelling coward, just send him running back to wherever he came from. He felt sure he would receive his just reward.

  Borrin lay on the ground panting rapidly, his blood staining the fur around his neck. Thorn had released him just in time to prevent his death, then turned away to lead his pack back to where the intruders’ scents were strongest.

  Several minutes went by. With aching muscles, Borrin lifted his head and stared around him. He was alone. This was the last time Joel would humiliate him! Father or not, he vowed to kill him.

  ***

  By chance, Edmund had stumbled into the same stretch of wilderness. The wolves were silent now, so he had no way of knowing if he was going in the right direction. A thud of hooves hitting the ground had him turning quickly, and he caught a glimpse of a small group of deer darting through the trees.

  Their action put him on high alert, and sensing danger he ducked down into the nearest bush, hidden among the foliage. He’d settled just in time, because a second later a pack of wolves ran past him. Edmund peered through the bush and counted eight individuals heading down the trail. He made a move to stand up, just as another wolf ran past.

  The shock of it passing so close made him duck down again, and he stared, wondering what the wolf was going to do.

  Its lean body and skulking stance betrayed its evil intentions, the black mottled fur helping to conceal its presence as it crouched in the shadows of the tall pine trees. Its belly barely brushed the surface of the grass as it crept closer, surveying the wolves.

  Edmund shuffled, trying to ease the tension in his leg and shifting his position so he could watch the pack again. Their heads were lowered, scenting the ground in a methodical search for something.

  Baffled, Edmund turned to watch the lone wolf. Then a shock of recognition pricked him as he remembered seeing it visiting his pack on the night they’d all spent beside the river.

  He pondered the encounter, the body language of the adults. He remembered his wolves were agitated after that meeting, then the situation changed for the worse.

  But why was this particular wolf alone? Maybe it had betrayed its own wolves in the past somehow. But he didn’t know why, or what it meant.

  ***

  The helicopter pilot finally found a clearing and landed. The machine had barely touched the ground before Sam flung open the door and jumped out. Bert lumbered after him, groaning as his feet landed heavily on the grass.

  ‘Come on, Bert!’ urged Sam. ‘We have to find him!’ And he began running without as much as a cursory glance at his friend.

  Bert was breathing rapidly, determined to keep up as the two men jogged on. They hadn’t been travelling for many minutes when they disturbed a small group of deer grazing among the trees. In a flash of brown bodies, the animals darted into the undergrowth and were quickly lost from view.

  However, the spectacle was lost on Sam, his enthusiasm for the forest and its wildlife having evaporated when his son went missing. His only desire was to find Edmund safe and sound.

  On the air were sounds like voices, coming from… He couldn’t decide and stopped.

  ‘What is it?’ Bert asked breathlessly as he arrived at his side. Sam glanced at him.

  ‘Hear that?’ he said, slowly turning his head, trying to determine where the voices were coming from and what they were saying. ‘People… And they’re calling Edmund’s name!’ he said, alarmed. An unexpected chill surged through his body, and he was running again.

  Within a couple of minutes they came face to face with three forest rangers.

  ‘Hey there! Hello!’ called Sam, as he arrived in front of them. ‘I’m Edmund’s dad, Sam Rainer. We heard you calling my son. Where is he?’ he asked anxiously, staring at each worried face.

  The rangers took a moment to introduce themselves, then quickly began to explain the circumstances surrounding their discovery of his son.

  Sam listened quietly and rubbed a hand across his chin, deeply troubled to hear that his boy was suffering from such an awful injury, and then to leave the safety of the rangers and wander back into the forest. And for what? A wolf pup. It didn’t make sense to him.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Mr Rainer,’ said Max, noting the worried expression deepening on the man’s face. Max turned away to scan the terrain. ‘Right, Mr Rainer, let’s get to work. Find your son! He can’t be too far away,’ he said, studying the nearby undergrowth. ‘The only direction that would account for his sudden disappearance is that way… through those bushes.’ Max forged ahead. ‘Yes! I’m right. Look, he must have come this way. It’s the only logical explanation to how he managed to disappear so quickly.’

  ***

  Thorn’s pack were still searching the dense shrubbery that lay beyond the archway of branches. They had conceded they’d been outsmarted, now realising that the trail Joel had set further north was a ruse to draw them away.

  The scruffy lone wolf remained crouching among the shadows of tall trees over to Edmund’s right. He was fifty feet away, hidden, only his ear tips protruding above the long grasses.

  Edmund was puzzled by what was happening, then slowly the realisation struck him – his pup must be hidden there. A shiver coursed through his body, affirming his thoughts, as the big male began to scrape at the soft earth at the bottom of the hillside. Within seconds the wolf utilised his strong jaws and began lifting some of the smaller branches, removing them systematically from the pile heaped in front of him.

  With growing fear, Edmund scoured the ground for any kind of weapon he could use as a distraction, or for his own defence if the need arose. His gaze settled on a likely candidate poking through the bush at ground level, a sturdy branch. He stooped, grasped it firmly in his hands and yanked it free, his mind focused on protecting GoldenEars. His heart was racing, and adrenaline was fuelling an impulse to rush out and attack the lot of them.

  Suddenly, the harsh sounds of gunshots made him jump, the echoes rebounding through the forest. Instinctively he ducked lower, his attentions fixed on the pack, wondering what they would do. It was obvious they’d heard that noise before, because their response was immediate. Every member was alert, wary, their sharp eyes scanning the forest. The big male lifted his muzzle, then gave a short yelp. Silently, the pack fled back up the hillside.

  The five men had also heard the gunshots, the sounds alarming Sam in particular. He spun round, scanning the forest for the people responsible.

  ‘Who else is out here?’

  Max had been surveying the trail around them and lowered his binoculars.

  ‘It c
ould be the police… or more likely a group of hunters. This open wilderness is not under any kind of protection, and the killing of its wildlife goes on regularly I’m sorry to say.’ He let out a breath of frustration, hoisted his rifle over his shoulder and resumed walking. ‘Let’s keep moving. Edmund is the priority right now!’

  The gunfire died on the air as the men quickened their pace, emerging through the trees where ahead lay an unusual archway of tangled branches and overgrown vines.

  Deserting his place of security, Edmund advanced into the open and hurried to the spot where the wolves had been digging. He knelt down among the dishevelled branches, glancing behind him, but thankfully he was alone. Even the scruffy wolf seemed to have left. Turning his attention back to the disturbed earth in front of him, he began to dig with his hands.

  Inside the den Kegg and Tuke were frightened, acutely aware that the wolf pack was trying to get inside. Kegg couldn’t restrain himself and began to whimper.

  ‘Shh, Kegg. They’ll hear us,’ whispered Tuke fearfully.

  Edmund paused and listened.

  ‘GoldenEars! Are you there?’ he asked softly.

  As if on cue, a muffled yelp came from the earth in front of him. Relieved that he’d found him at last, Edmund worked quickly, the pain in his leg unimportant as he repeatedly scooped handfuls of the soft earth away, discarding it unceremoniously behind him. It was then that he heard a sliding, scattering sound of shifting earth, as a gap the size of his fist revealed itself, and peering through the narrow opening was Kegg. His little dark nose was thrust impatiently to the opening. Tuke jostled behind his brother, vying for the same position, both eager to inhale the fresh air.

  ‘All right, boy! Hold on. I’ll get you out!’ Edmund called, scooping the last of the earth away.

  In his urgency to get out, Kegg was digging and pushing against the earth from his side, when finally the last scatterings fell away, exposing their secret hiding place. Without hesitation, the little pup dashed forward, leaping straight into Edmund’s arms and showering him with damp earth in the process. Not content with being in his arms, Kegg wriggled, endeavouring to reach up to lick his face.