by Justin D'Ath
Snuff, snuff, snuff, went its big wet nostrils.
A mosquito buzzed around my head, then settled on the side of my nose. It was right next to my left eye, but I didn’t move a muscle. I let it have a free drink. The grizzly was only about six metres away. We were hidden in the reeds, but the slightest movement would attract its attention.
Hic! went Sally beside me. What a time to get the hiccups again! She raised one hand slowly out of the water and clamped it across her mouth. But it wasn’t enough to completely muffle the sound.
Hic!
The bear turned its head in our direction.
Please don’t let it see us! I prayed.
Hic!
The grizzly tilted its head to one side, listening. It was so close I could see little insects, no bigger than sandflies, darting about in its fur. I sank down in the water, trying to make myself smaller, trying to disappear, until only my eyes and the top of my head poked out of the creek and I could no longer breathe. On either side of me, Sally and E.J. did the same. We were three terrified kids trying to make ourselves invisible. Trying not to become bear food.
But it was too late. The grizzly was looking right at us. Its little piggy eyes locked with mine. Lifting its upper lip, it bared its teeth and made a loud blowing sound. Then it rose up on its hind legs, water pouring out of its fur, and let out a fearsome roar, halfway between the bark of a dog and the bellow of a bull.
We were dead meat.
14
COME AND GET ME!
A strange thing happened. Instead of charging, the grizzly whipped its head around and snapped at the air. Chomp! Then it swung a huge forepaw, like someone swatting flies. Swish! But there weren’t any flies, as far as I could see.
Chomp! went the bear’s jaws again, closing on nothing.
Weird, I thought. It was fighting off imaginary flies.
Then another thought popped into my mind. Unless …
Something bounced off the grizzly’s ear and came flying in our direction. I got a clear view of it before it plopped into the water. It was small and brown and shaped like an egg.
My hunch was right. Bigfoot or Cave Boy was hurling acorns again. Whoever it was, they were deadly accurate. Pow! Pow! Pow! Every acorn was right on target.
The bear soon got sick of being pelted with acorns. Letting out another bellow of rage, it thundered up the bank in the direction the acorns were coming from.
Look out, acorn-thrower, I thought.
As soon as the grizzly disappeared, E.J. sprang upright in the reeds beside me. ‘We’re outta here!’ he cried. He took one step, let out a yelp of pain and fell face down in the water with a big splash.
For a terrible moment I thought another snapper had got him. Then I remembered his foot. After our close encounter with the grizzly, E.J. must have forgotten about it, too. Until he’d tried to walk.
Sally helped E.J. climb onto my back, then we waded ashore on the opposite side of the creek to where the grizzly had disappeared. I looked back, but I couldn’t see any sign of the bear, or anyone else. Whoever threw the acorns had saved our lives.
Cold and dripping wet, we continued following the creek bank in the direction of the farm.
At least, I hoped that was the direction we were going. Ever since we’d arrived at the creek, I’d been worried we’d lost our way. Where was the wide, stony river I’d seen from up near the road? The river that led to the farm? All we could do was follow the creek and hope that sooner or later it would lead us there.
‘Do you think it’ll come after us?’ Sally asked, looking over her shoulder.
‘The grizzly or Bigfoot?’ said E.J.
‘Both, I guess.’
I struggled along under E.J.’s weight. ‘Was it the same grizzly?’ I asked, already puffed even though we’d only been walking for a few minutes.
‘Sure looked like the same one,’ E.J. said. ‘Did you see the way it was following our scent?’
I shivered. And not just because of my wet clothes. It’s the creepiest feeling when you’re out in the bush and things want to eat you.
‘Do grizzlies often go after people?’ asked Sally.
‘Usually only when you get too close to them,’ E.J. said. ‘But sometimes you get a mean old bear that attacks people for no reason.’
Suddenly I thought of a reason. It was the same reason the black bear had kept trying to get into the bus after our crash. Raspberry cordial.
I’d rolled in the spilled cordial when I was getting Mr Johnson out.
‘Let’s stop for a second,’ I said.
After E.J. slid off my back, I unbuttoned my shirt and looked at the shoulder where I’d come in contact with the cordial. There was a pale pink stain. The creek water had washed most of it out. But not all of it. When I raised the shirt to my nose, there was still a faint whiff of raspberries. I’d left a smear of the sweet scent on every leaf and bush and branch I’d rubbed against on my way down the hill. It was probably in the air as well. To the grizzly, with its super-powerful nose, it was an irresistible invitation. Come and get me!
Not any more. I rolled my shirt into a ball and tossed it into the creek.
‘Now try to track us, Mr Grizzly,’ I said.
E.J. was wearing a T-shirt under his scout top. He lent it to me. I was much bigger than him, so it was a tight fit. But it was better than nothing. The mosquitoes were getting bad. The T-shirt had a cartoon moose on the front. Welcome to Rainbow Lake, it said underneath.
I didn’t know where Rainbow Lake was, but I wished I was there right now. Then I felt selfish for thinking that. I was Baloo, and people were depending on me. Lives were at stake. This wasn’t a time for daydreams about being somewhere else.
This was a time for action.
15
WHAM!
Just as I’d hoped, the creek led us to the river. Now all we had to do was follow it downsteam to the farm.
Soon help would be on its way for E.J.’s dad, Will, Mum and the other four cubs we’d left behind.
I put E.J. down so we could drink from a small, crystal-clear pool at the river’s edge.
‘Look!’ Sally pointed across the river. ‘A badger.’
A cute-looking animal had emerged from the forest on the other side. It looked like an overgrown possum, with a fat stripy tail and black markings around its eyes.
‘That’s not a badger,’ E.J. said. ‘It’s a raccoon.’
We watched it come trotting across the stony riverbank towards the water. It stopped when it saw us and sat down on its haunches.
‘We won’t hurt you, raccoon,’ Sally said softly.
After checking us out for a few seconds, the raccoon seemed to decide that we weren’t a threat. It came right to the water’s edge and jumped onto a small pointy rock about twenty centimetres from shore. It teetered there for a second, being very careful to keep its paws clear of the water, then hopped across to another rock. When that rock wobbled, it jumped to the next one. It was crossing the river, using the rocks as stepping stones. Coming straight towards us.
‘What’s it doing?’ I asked.
‘Dunno,’ said E.J., wobbling on one foot as he tried to stand up.
Sally, who was closest to the approaching raccoon, started backing away.
‘It’s scaring me,’ she said.
It was making me nervous, too. I didn’t know much about raccoons, but this wasn’t how wild animals were supposed to behave. Unless they were dangerous.
I bent and picked up a stone.
E.J. leaned against a boulder, holding his injured foot clear of the ground as he watched the raccoon scrambling across the rocks towards us.
‘Shoot!’ he muttered. ‘I think it’s got rabies.’
I knew about rabies. It’s a really nasty disease. If animals get it, they go crazy. They attack anything – other animals, trees, even people. And if they bite a person, they can get rabies, too. People can die from it.
‘RUN, SALLY!’ I yelled.
My
warning came too late. Sally was still going backwards. The raccoon reached dry land and darted at her so fast, she didn’t have time to turn and run.
But I had time to throw my stone.
The raccoon was too quick. It saw the stone coming and jumped high into the air. The stone flew under its belly and nearly hit Sally on the foot.
‘Sorry,’ I said, stooping to pick up another stone.
‘LOOK OUT!’ yelled E.J.
The raccoon had twisted around in mid-air. It hit the ground running.
Straight at me.
I was stooped over, legs bent, in the act of picking up the second stone. There wasn’t time to straighten up. The raccoon came at me like a furry missile.
My last view of the raccoon was its pink drooling mouth getting bigger, bigger, BIGGER.
WHAM!
I didn’t see what happened next. Sally and E.J. described it later. But they didn’t see much, either. One moment they were watching the raccoon fly towards me, next moment a wolf came out of nowhere.
The raccoon never knew what hit it.
By the time I’d straightened up and looked around, the big grey wolf was bounding back towards the trees, shaking the raccoon’s limp body in its powerful jaws. Eight or nine other wolves came to meet it. For a few seconds there was a savage tug of war as the wolf pack fought over their prize. Then a low whistle came from the forest. At once, the wolves dropped the dead raccoon and melted back into the trees.
‘Man, oh man!’ breathed E.J. Raising one hand, he measured a distance of about one centimetre between his thumb and forefinger. ‘That wolf came this close to taking your head off!’
‘I don’t think it was after Baloo,’ Sally said.
E.J. gave a nervous laugh. ‘Of course it wasn’t after him. He’d be dead if it was.’
Like the raccoon, I thought. I almost felt sorry for it. But the wolf had done it a favour: saved it from a slow, agonising death by rabies. I hoped the wolf wouldn’t catch the disease.
‘That’s twice I’ve been saved by wolves,’ I said, staring into the forest where they’d disappeared. ‘And once by flying acorns. It’s almost as if someone’s looking after us.’
‘You mean like God?’ said Sally.
‘No, the person who called the wolves off.’
‘What person?’
‘Didn’t you hear someone whistle?’
Sally and E.J. shook their heads.
‘Could have been a bird,’ E.J. said.
I shrugged. E.J. might be right. It made more sense than someone whistling. The wolves probably dropped the raccoon because they realised it was diseased, not because someone called them off. The whistle was just a bird.
But birds don’t throw acorns, said the little voice in my head.
16
SURROUNDED BY WOLVES
Something was following us. I kept hearing rustling noises in the forest at the edge of the river. But every time we stopped to rest, the noises stopped, too.
I didn’t say anything to E.J. and Sally in case it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. We were nearly at the farm. Our troubles would soon be over, and help would be on its way for Mum and the others.
‘Yikes!’ said Sally.
Fifty metres ahead, a monkey-like figure came scampering out of the forest on all fours. It stopped next to the river and stood semi-upright, facing us.
We stopped, too.
‘Is it Bigfoot’s kid?’ asked E.J.
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure about the Bigfoot part. I still thought of him as Cave Boy. ‘I think he’s waiting for us.’
Sally dropped behind me as I walked slowly forward, piggybacking E.J. When we got close to him, the boy sank into a crouch. He looked ready to run.
‘He’s scared,’ E.J. whispered.
I felt scared, too. Dressed in ragged pelts and crouching on all fours, the boy looked more like a wild animal than a human.
‘Hello,’ I said, trying to sound friendly.
Cave Boy licked his lips, making a strange whimpering noise. Suddenly he darted forward and crouched at my feet. His whole body was shaking.
‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘We’re not going to hurt you.’
The boy didn’t move, just crouched there, looking up at me. There was a pleading look in his big brown eyes.
‘I think he wants you to pat him,’ Sally whispered.
I nearly laughed. ‘He isn’t a dog!’
‘He’s acting like one,’ she said.
‘More like a puppy,’ said E.J.
Suddenly I got it. He was acting like a puppy. Bringing one arm out from under E.J.’s knee, I reached down and nervously patted Cave Boy’s head. He licked my hand.
‘Eeeew!’ said E.J.
‘Remember what you said about Mowgli in Jungle Book,’ I said to Sally. ‘I think Cave Boy’s the same – he’s been brought up by wolves.’
‘Cool!’ she said.
I kept patting him. He was no longer shaking, but his eyes still had a questioning look. He wanted something, but he couldn’t tell me what it was.
‘Mwaa mwaa,’ he said softly.
‘What’s mwaa mwaa?’ I asked.
Cave Boy nodded. ‘Mwaa mwaa!’ he repeated, louder this time. He pointed across the river.
All we could see over there was forest.
‘I don’t know what mwaa mwaa is,’ I said.
Cave Boy straightened up and turned towards the river. He made a beckoning gesture. ‘Mwaa mwaa,’ he said, stepping lightly from rock to rock like the raccoon had done.
‘Does he want us to follow him?’ asked Sally.
‘Let’s find out,’ I said.
E.J. pulled against my shoulders, like a rider slowing his horse. ‘No, Baloo. We’ve got to go to the farm and get help for Dad and the others.’
He was right. I was Baloo, and I had a job to do. Cave Boy would have to wait. He’d reached the far side of the river and stood watching us.
‘Mwaa mwaa!’ he called, urgently beckoning at us to cross.
‘Sorry! We have to go to the farm!’ I shouted, even though I knew he couldn’t understand a word I was saying.
But he understood we weren’t going to help him. Raising one hand to his lips, Cave Boy let out a piercing whistle.
‘Yikes!’ said Sally.
We were surrounded by wolves.
17
MWAA MWAA
They were the same wolves that had come to our aid twice before. But this time they looked anything but friendly. Snarling and bristling, the huge yellow-eyed wolves closed in on us from all sides.
‘Stay close to me,’ I said softly.
With E.J. on my back and Sally clutching my elbow, we backed down to the river and started wobbling across the rocks towards Cave Boy on the other side.
The wolves stood in a line at the water’s edge, watching us go.
Cave Boy waited until we had staggered ashore, then put two fingers to his mouth and whistled again. Like well-trained sheepdogs, the wolves turned and went trotting away into the trees.
‘Mwaa mwaa,’ said Cave Boy, leading us towards the forest.
I badly needed a rest – E.J. was getting heavy – but I was too scared to stop. One whistle from Cave Boy would bring the wolves running.
‘He is just like Mowgli,’ Sally whispered.
‘There’s one difference,’ said E.J. ‘Mowgli was a good guy.’
‘I wouldn’t call Cave Boy a bad guy,’ I said.
‘How do you figure that?’
‘He got the wolves to chase the grizzly away when we were up the hill,’ I said. ‘He saved us from the raccoon. He threw acorns at the grizzly.’
‘Hang on,’ said E.J. ‘If Cave Boy was the one throwing acorns, then he threw them at us, too.’
‘It might have been a warning,’ I said. ‘To make us hurry because he knew the grizzly was coming after us.’
‘Speaking of the grizzly …’ Sally said in a terrified whisper.
I looked over my sh
oulder.
Shishkebab!
A huge brown bear was coming along the bank on the opposite side of the river. One look was enough to tell me that it was the same grizzly that had been following us all afternoon.
Would it ever give up?
‘I don’t think it saw us,’ Sally breathed as we entered the trees.
‘It doesn’t need to see us,’ said E.J. ‘It just needs to smell us.’
‘But I threw my shirt away,’ I said. ‘I don’t smell like raspberry cordial any more.’
‘Yes, you do,’ E.J. said. He was riding on my back and his nose was just above my head. ‘It’s in your hair.’
‘You should have said something!’
‘I didn’t notice till a couple of minutes ago, when we were surrounded by wolves. And I figured the wolves were going to kill us anyway.’
I stopped in my tracks. I’d had an idea.
‘Why have we stopped?’ Sally whispered.
I explained my idea. ‘If we stop following Cave Boy, then he’ll call the wolves again.’
‘Isn’t that the last thing we want?’ said E.J., sliding down off my back to give me a break.
I shook my head. ‘The last thing we want is the grizzly to catch us. If Cave Boy calls the wolves, they might chase the bear away like they did last time.’
It seemed like a good idea, but there was one problem. Cave Boy had gone on ahead. He didn’t know we’d stopped.
With every passing second, the grizzly was getting closer.
‘Let’s see where Cave Boy is,’ I said nervously.
There was no track to follow but we soon caught up with him. He was coming back through the forest towards us. Before I could do my stopping thing again, I glimpsed something through a gap in the trees behind him. A fence. There was a gate in the fence and a wide grassy paddock on the other side.