by Jane H Wood
First and foremost, Max wanted someone experienced and reliable, someone who could take care of themselves, equipped with the knowledge of survival in the wilderness and capable of teaching a young trainee ranger.
Gus was all those things and, although he appeared to be a tough taskmaster on the surface, Max knew him to be a fair man, a sensitive man, who did his best to conceal that side of himself from others. He’d been informed about Edmund’s devastating accident, resulting in weeks of hospital care, and his foolish trip into the snow more recently while chasing some wolves.
No one was more aware than Edmund himself concerning his physical fitness, or lack of it. His stamina and strength felt non-existent, and after meeting Gus he began to worry what kind of training awaited him.
To his relief the initial training began gently with walks into the forest, where Gus taught him about the plants: how to identify edible ones and also avoid poisonous plants and weeds that could irritate the skin or, at worse, kill you.
The days passed and Edmund found he was enjoying the process of becoming a ranger. He already knew the simple skill of map-reading and even felt confident in his abilities to light a fire, without the use of matches. But Gus was in full swing, explaining the best way to go about it. Edmund raised a hand and opened his mouth to speak.
‘This is a rudimental skill every Boy Scout should know,’ Gus commented, ignoring the boy’s attempts to interrupt the lesson.
Later that day Gus learnt that Edmund had been lost in the wilderness for a short period the year before and had caught a fish in the river with his bare hands. Then he’d managed to light a fire and cook the thing without poisoning himself. Gus nodded, slightly surprised by this.
The following morning the pair set off towards the forest again, where today’s lesson was to focus on the different animals they might observe roaming in and out of the reserve’s protected area. Barely making a sound they ducked down behind some bushes to watch a group of deer amble past, stopping occasionally to nibble at the fresh grass.
‘It’s a herd of mule deer, females, and most of them look pregnant,’ whispered Gus. ‘They usually live nearer the foothills of mountains, preferring rocky terrain, but I guess the forest at this time of year is a great pull for them.’
Edmund moved so he had a better view of the herd. He nodded appreciatively, noting their rounded bellies.
‘Yeah,’ Gus said with a smile, ‘it’s nice to see, isn’t it? The doe usually gives birth at the end of May, so maybe we’ll come across a fawn in early June.’
Once the small herd had wandered out of sight, Gus stood up and moved out into the open. ‘Right, let’s continue, see what else is about.’
The encounter had put Gus in a good mood and the pair walked along chatting happily about Canada’s wildlife. The tension had disappeared between them, and Edmund listened engrossed as Gus spoke passionately about the subject he clearly enjoyed. Then, gradually, his serious side returned, as he warned him about the dangers that the hunters pose with their guns and traps.
‘They return every year regardless, knowing full well that our wildlife reserve prohibits hunting of any kind,’ moaned Gus. ‘Team work, Edmund,’ said the older man, glancing at him while they walked. ‘It’s the most important rule, I can’t emphasise that enough, to watch each other’s backs. No one is an individual here.’
Edmund nodded vehemently, annoyed to learn about the hunting, although he wasn’t ignorant that it took place in the open wilderness. But here on the reserve, the thought angered and worried him in equal measure, to think of his wolf being hunted, or in fact any of them. He would speak to Max later, he thought.
Two weeks passed before Gus finally eased up a little.
‘These are just the basics, Edmund. It will take months of hard work to gain the necessary skills, and even then experience is something you continue to acquire throughout your lifetime; it never stops. You can never learn too much, but you’ve started well,’ he conceded with a nod, although his expression remained stern.
Max had been kept informed of Edmund’s progress and was quietly pleased the boy was doing well. He’d watched from the sidelines, loath to interfere, and was deliberately leaving Gus and Edmund alone, wanting the boy to concentrate on his training. When Edmund was finally given some free time, he went straight to see Max.
A hand gently knocked on Max’s office door.
‘Come in,’ he called, and smiled watching Edmund stride inside and sit in front of his desk. ‘How’s it going? Are you enjoying it?’ he asked, leaning forward on his elbows. Edmund tried to stifle a yawn.
‘It’s great! I’ve learnt so much, and Gus is a good teacher, err… very dedicated,’ he answered, his voice trailing away as another yawn escaped his mouth.
‘Yes, I know what you mean,’ replied Max, ‘but the man knows his stuff. Listen and learn and you’ll do fine,’ he nodded encouragingly.
Edmund sat still, looking at his fingers while absent-mindedly rubbing a bit of dirt off his nails.
‘Is there something on your mind?’ Max asked.
‘Um, yes… I know hunting is prohibited here but people still manage to do it. And in other parts of the country, well, there don’t seem to be any laws protecting wolves. I read a story in a newspaper… months ago. It was about some wolves found dead, a pup too, just left there. Why would anyone do that?’ he asked, his brow furrowed.
‘I know, Edmund. But people on the whole hate wolves, always have. It stems back hundreds of years to the first settlers in these parts, trying to make a living, farmers, small settlements growing into larger ones. The wolf was pushed further north, considered in the way, and hunted and killed at every opportunity. I’ve been battling for years trying to change the laws governing the indiscriminate killing of the wolf population. Their numbers are down and continuing a downward spiral so fast I fear for the species generally.’
‘Oh Max! I didn’t know it was that desperate,’ interrupted Edmund, feeling a renewed surge of anger. Then without warning a sickening dread filled his heart as his mind turned towards his wolf.
‘Have you seen GoldenEars?’ he asked abruptly.
‘Um, no. Not since last December. I don’t know where they are now,’ said Max, shaking his head.
‘They’re…’ Edmund hesitated as something flickered across his mind… then faded just as quickly.
‘What is it, Edmund?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Edmund. ‘Do you think they will return, here to the reserve I mean?’
‘It’s possible. Predators usually follow their prey so it depends on the herds.’ Max paused, watching Edmund’s downcast face.
‘You need some rest. I’ll ask Gus to give you a day off. In fact, take the rest of today off and I’ll speak to Gus about tomorrow as well, okay?’ he said kindly.
***
After their last encounter with Edmund, Joel and his family had travelled north, spending the winter months among the trees and snowy hillsides. And now the alpha male felt it was time to travel towards the warmth and cover of the forests once again.
The little family and their adopted young wolf Pepper had gradually drifted southwards and, on the insistence of Kegg, had returned to the vast wilderness in the grounds of Huxforest Wildlife Reserve.
Springtime had arrived, the snowmelt complete. Joel knew that the lure of fresh green pasturelands would act like a magnet, pulling the herds back to the forests, and species like elk, bison and deer would soon give birth.
But they were wolves without a pack, homeless, wanderers without a territory to call their own, resorting to a nomadic existence, with all the uncertainty and wariness that that entailed whenever they ventured into a new land. So, for that reason Joel and Mira had decided not to breed this year, for safety was paramount and their lives precarious enough without risking young pups as well.
Joel was being car
eful as they moved through the forest, remembering a resident pack lived there, and his cowardly son Borrin had betrayed them the last time they were in this region.
They stopped and made a shallow scrape, just enough to afford some shade and comfort, a place where they could hide if the need arose. He looked at Kegg sitting a little way off by himself. He had grown into a handsome wolf, pale like his mother, a year old now and almost the same size as himself. He gazed across at Tuke, strong and muscular, dark speckled fur almost identical to his own. He wondered if one day he would challenge him, like he had his own father many moons ago. Skeena was a mixture of them all and her feisty disposition would stand her in good stead, he thought.
Joel’s attention drifted back towards Kegg, who was looking to the west. He followed his son’s gaze. The mountains were closer now they’d entered the main boreal forests and he could see their white snow-covered peaks, the hazy smudges of indentations and the darker shadows of the numerous cracks and crevices that covered the rock face.
However, the summit appeared different than he remembered. Perhaps his memories were playing tricks on him. He sat up straight, staring intently, following the course of a dark line that zigzagged from its snowy peak and seemed to go all the way to ground level, as far as he could tell from where he stood.
The discovery puzzled him, and he looked across at Kegg still sitting on his mound of earth, his eyes transfixed on the mountains in the distance. He ambled over to him.
‘Are you all right, my son?’ he asked, searching Kegg’s face with fatherly concern.
Slowly, as though he’d only just realised someone was talking to him, Kegg turned round.
‘Father! Do you hear that sound?’ he asked imploringly.
Joel tilted his head to one side then looked towards the mountains again… pricked up his ears and listened.
‘It’s the wind moaning, like before… nothing more,’ he said.
Kegg bowed his head, not sure if he should say anything, because his father was so brave and fearless he was sure he wouldn’t understand. Slowly, he lifted his head and sniffed the air, aware that the last time he’d felt the mountain so deeply was when Glyth was by his side.
‘It feels wrong, Father. I’m not sure how… The mountain frightens me,’ he said in a small voice.
Joel wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but before he could find the words Skeena came bounding up behind them with young Pepper in hot pursuit. The pair were playing together, enjoying each other’s company. Pepper had latched onto Skeena like the big sister he’d lost and the affection between them both was clear to see.
‘Careful, you two!’ snapped Joel as Skeena banged into him. He turned back towards Kegg. ‘Why don’t you join in the game? Take your mind off it,’ he said and moved away to lie down in the sun next to Mira.
***
Thorn was aware the family had returned, and as long as they didn’t interfere with him or his pack he’d permit them to stay undisturbed. But he was wise enough to keep a watchful eye on the intruders, albeit from a distance.
Three weeks had gone by and April was proving warmer than usual. The alpha wolf crouched in the shadows of the tall evergreen trees, quietly observing them.
Gallock stood at his shoulder, his insistence pressuring him to act.
‘Shall we kill them now, my leader? You have been tolerant for too long, for they are trespassing on our territory,’ the beta wolf growled.
Thorn held a healthy respect for this alpha male… Joel, he remembered, was his name. Ah yes, he angered me at the time, but he’s clever and resourceful. Under different circumstances we could have been friends, he thought.
But Brindle his mate had given birth a week ago and he was anxious for their safety. The unspoken alliance between Joel and himself was now uncertain. Thorn had responsibilities with four new pups to look after. He thought of them fondly – two males, Thindrel and Pip, and two females, Mottle and Pleeth. How his heart had swollen with pride when he first saw their little faces. Since then a fierce, almost overpowering, urge to protect them had grown deep inside; with Joel so near, their survival was in jeopardy.
Next morning Thorn succumbed to his instincts and, taking six of his trusted wolves, went to seek out Joel and his family. He found them lying in the shade of a big tree, eating the remains of a bobcat, confident, assured of their safety in his territory.
Thorn hesitated. He hated to do this but it was necessary. A sudden gust of wind blew through the trees as he took a step out into the open. Joel was already alert to his presence and spun round to face him as he emerged through the undergrowth. A warning shiver rippled down his spine as he assessed the big alpha wolf with six of his pack standing beside him.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Joel, his voice strong and clear, yet wary.
The air bristled with tension, and an unnerving sensation coursed through his body as the wolves changed their stance, twitching their ears impatiently.
Joel glanced at Mira, flicking his ears in warning. But she was already edging backwards towards young Pepper who stood nervously beside Skeena for protection. He was still only eight months old and, in comparison to her twelve-month-old frame, was still quite small. Tuke scanned around him, searching for Kegg, but he was nowhere in sight.
Thorn took another menacing step forward, lowered his head and growled, his voice deep and strong.
‘My mate has given birth. I have a family, and you have become a threat. You must leave here now!’
‘We won’t harm any of you. There’s room enough for all of us,’ replied Joel as earnestly as he could.
Thorn wanted to make sure Joel understood. He flicked his ears and in a flurry of dry grasses he bounded forward, striking Joel squarely on his chest. The blow sent Joel tumbling backwards, impacting hard against the broad stump of a fir tree.
Winded, he lay there, trying to gather his wits while the pack encircled his little family. Tuke growled menacingly, outraged that his father should be attacked in such a cowardly way.
‘No, Tuke!’ growled Joel, regaining his paws. He faced Thorn again. ‘We will move north. No need for bloodshed,’ he growled angrily, moving in front of his eldest son, deliberately blocking his advance.
Mira darted to his shoulder protectively, her eyes burning with malice, ready to fight if the situation worsened further. Joel’s facial expression halted her. There was no point anyone getting hurt; they were outnumbered and weak in comparison to Thorn’s pack. In particular, Pepper was the most vulnerable member here. They would concede.
‘We will go!’ Joel repeated loudly, lifting his head defiantly to stare at their leader. Their eyes met, and Joel held contact the longest.
Anger swelled inside Thorn’s chest. Even in defeat this wolf appeared superior, as if challenging him to act further.
With a yelp, Thorn lunged at the intruders, and the chase was on, his pack matching him stride for stride. He was making sure Joel and his family were off their land; they pursued them for miles, winding through forest, hillsides, and across shallow streams, until finally the chase ended. With a contented snort Thorn stood high on a rock, pleased that it hadn’t ended in bloodshed. The intruders were running away into the distance, disappearing amid a dense thicket of trees and shrubs.
The lonely figure of Borrin stood hidden under a canopy of tall growing conifers. In misery, he’d witnessed Joel and his family fleeing Thorn’s territory.
For months he had followed discreetly in Joel’s shadow, waiting for an opportunity to attack the wolf with the yellow hairs. And now he felt dismayed. Where was the young wolf, and how was he going to kill it along with his father?
He’d crept along in their wake over the long winter months. Surviving on their scraps only served to weaken and malnourish him, and his coat had grown scruffy and dull. Worrying where the next meal was coming from had given him a haunted expression, and he w
himpered, watching his father disappear from view.
It was past noon and Joel had run on another quarter of a mile before stopping. Without realising it they had travelled westwards. He stood panting while he surveyed the lie of the land.
Mira skidded to a halt by his side.
‘We are safe now,’ she panted, trying to catch her breath.
With motherly concern she turned to check on her offspring. Everyone was panting hard; and running through the trees, the last to join them, was Pepper. He dropped to the ground, his sides heaving, his mouth open, gasping for air. They’d run well, something Tuke wouldn’t have been able to do a few months ago.
‘Where’s Kegg?’ she yelped, suddenly distressed, scanning the terrain beyond Pepper, back the way they’d come.
Earlier that day Kegg had slipped away unnoticed. He’d settled himself so he could gaze at the distant blue mountains. He was drawn by their magnificence, yet afraid as he listened to the moaning of the wind and the whispering on the air.
Satisfied Joel and his family were off his land, Thorn had turned back with his six companions, and they were making their way through the forest when they spotted Kegg.
With stealth they crept closer… then pounced, knocking the unsuspecting wolf off his mound of earth and onto the ground. Kegg let out a howl of pain as he was struck. Before he could regain his paws, Thorn straddled him, his large frame preventing him from moving. The big wolf lowered his head, appearing to be talking, or maybe threatening him. Borrin watched, unsure, for he had followed Thorn.
The black wolf crept out of his hiding place, spellbound, urging Thorn to finish him off. What is he doing? he grumbled to himself.
Thorn had allowed Kegg to stand, though his pack had encircled him. With bated breath Borrin waited, spittle dribbling from the corner of his mouth in mounting excitement. Then to his disappointment, nothing happened. Then it appeared Thorn was escorting Kegg away. Not understanding what was going on, he sat there, baffled, watching as they disappeared into the trees.