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To the “real” Bub Moose—You know who you are!
and
To Jane Johnston, Who’s been waiting!
Chapter 1
Something rubbed against me. In one way it felt good. In another it was rough. At least I guess it was. I didn’t know for sure because I hadn’t felt much before. I do remember that I was warm and safe and cozy. The only sound was the steady thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
Then suddenly everything got light. Even with my eyes closed, the brightness hurt. I was no longer surrounded by a feeling of warmth and comfort. Instead, it became cold and a little scary. The steady thump-thump was replaced by all sorts of strange and frightening noises.
Something touched me. It was warm and damp. It went over my whole body until I was dry and comfortable.
“Open your eyes, my baby.” The voice was soft and gentle. “Listen to your mother and open your eyes. It’s time to see your new world.”
Something pushed me so hard I almost tipped over. I tilted, then stretched out my front feet. Quickly I pulled my body up. My back legs were wobbly. I tried to balance, but fell into the warm bed of grass where I had been born. Mother was close. I could feel her presence, but when I tried to look at her, the light hurt my eyes. She pushed at me again.
“You have to get up,” Mother warned. “The quicker you get on your feet, the safer you will be.”
I opened my eyes as wide as I could. My mother was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She had a big furry nose that was soft as could be. Her head and face were almost as long as I was. Her large ears twitched to chase away the tiny little black things that buzzed around her head.
“This feels good. I want to stay here.” I flipped my ears and tried to flatten myself into the big nest.
“Come on, it’s time to move. We are safe here, but you need to get on your feet!” Mother shoved me again with her beautiful soft nose.
I stretched my legs out. Everything felt wobbly again. I put my weight on my front feet, then my back feet. No matter how much I balanced or which way I moved, I couldn’t stay up. Then thud, I was back on the ground.
Okay, I’ll try again. Shoving my front legs out, I lifted my bottom up. Just before my back legs were steady, my front legs collapsed back into the warm nest.
“Let me rest a bit,” I said as I shut my eyes.
“You have to get up and move around. The longer you wait, the more danger you are in.” Mother shoved at my back end.
Move, legs. I tried to straighten my front ones again. They didn’t want to cooperate. Okay. One leg. Move!
One leg slowly stretched out straight. Both front hooves were in the right position. I tried to jerk my body up. My legs didn’t seem to be part of me.
I tried shoving my hooves out and pushing my rear end up at the same time. Yeah! It’s working!
Blap! I hit the ground again. Something must be wrong.
I could feel Mother’s big nose lifting my rear. My front hooves suddenly slipped straight out in front of me and my bottom rose up. My hind legs straightened at just the right time to balance my body. I was up. I tried to move each leg one at a time. My front ones were steady, as I took small steps toward Mother. I tried to tell my rear end to come along, too. It didn’t listen. I felt wobbly, trying to make everything work together. All at once I found myself back on the ground. This is useless. I need to rest.
“Try again, little one, you can make it.” Mother nudged me.
One more time I stretched out my front legs and pulled up with all of my strength. Now all four legs felt weird. I shook my body carefully as I balanced myself. Mother’s soft brown eyes gave me courage.
“Let’s go, baby. I know you can do it.”
Carefully I made small steps with my front hooves. My back legs felt stronger as I moved them forward, too. Each small step made me feel more sturdy. I shook my whole body again. I didn’t fall down!
“Hey, this is fun.” I tried to bounce just a bit.
I toppled over. Back on the ground again.
“Okay. I’m ready this time. Help me just a little.”
Mother gave me a soft nudge. “I think you are strong enough now, small one. Let’s go!”
With one big push I was up. All of my legs worked at the same time. My body balanced over them. I was standing. My front feet popped up off the ground, but not very high.
Mother licked my fur again. It almost threw me off balance, but I managed to catch myself. Hey, I can handle this, I thought.
Mother lifted her head. She seemed very proud. “You can hop and jump soon. Right now you need to practice balancing and walking.”
Mother pulled me toward her with her chin. She didn’t tell me what to do. She didn’t have to. I was really hungry! Something inside of me knew exactly where to go.
After dinner I felt stronger than ever. Then slowly we started walking.
“What are these?” I asked, sniffing the long pointy things beneath my feet.
“Those are pine needles,” Mother answered.
“What’s that?”.
“A leaf.”
“Where do they come from?”
“We live in a forest,” Mother said patiently. “The pine needles and leaves come from the trees that shelter us. See up there.”
I raised my head to look up. I guess I shouldn’t have. My back feet must have been too close to my front feet because when I raised my head I toppled backward. I landed with a thud.
“Oops,” I stammered.
Mother smiled. “It’s okay. Now hop up and let’s go.”
“Wait, what’s all that bright shiny stuff up there?”
“Up where?”
“Above the trees with all the pine needles and leaves on them.”
“That’s the sky,” Mother answered. “The sky is blue and the leaves are green and the trees are brown.”
I felt my eyes roll. This is a lot to remember.
I took a step but almost fell again when my hoof tripped over something.
“That’s a really big leaf” I gasped.
“That’s a limb,” Mother corrected. “Limbs are brown like the trees. They fall to the forest floor sometimes, too.”
I felt my head hang low when I sighed.
“There’s so much to see and to remember. I’ll never get it all straight.”
Mother’s soft brown eyes seemed to twinkle. She licked me with her warm tongue. “It just takes time” she said. “You haven’t even been here an hour yet. You’re doing very well.”
A loud tap-tap-tap made my ear twitch and turn toward the sound. Mama looked down at me.
“Listen. Do you hear that sound?” she asked.
Both my ears perked in the direction where I heard the noise. The loud tapping came from a tree above us.
“What is it?” I stretched my neck to see better. This time I didn’t fall on my bottom.
“That’s a woodpecker. When you hear her tapping, that means you are safe. When she is quiet, you need to be very alert for danger.”
I stepped over logs and limbs without getting my legs tangled up. I followed Mother farther into the trees. I couldn’t see her pretty face when I was behind her. All I could see were her long legs. I stayed close enough to touch them every now and then with my nose. Being close to Mother made me feel safe.
“Where are we goi
ng? I want to go back home.” I was getting tired.
“You are home. The whole forest is our home. As long as you listen and watch carefully, you are safe here. You have to know the danger sounds and the safe places to go when something isn’t right.” Mother turned around. Her big nose grazed my neck. She gently blew warm air against me. I felt safe and secure.
“You do need to choose a name. We have to decide what we are going to call you. That is one of the first things a baby moose must do.” Mother nuzzled me again.
“How do I choose? I just got here. How can I pick a name?” I looked up into Mother’s big brown eyes.
“It’s important that your name fits you. That it is something you recognize and feel good about.” Mother let out a snort. “Stay here in the tall grass. You can think about it a little more while I get some nice soft pond weeds.”
I lay down, as I was told. When Mother started to walk away, I tried to struggle to my feet.
“You’re not leaving me, are you?”
“I’ll be very close. You can see me in the water over there.” Mother was calm as she slowly walked away.
Folding my legs, I nestled into the soft grass. Mother walked quietly into the pond. I watched as she moved through the water. Suddenly she disappeared. I stretched my neck trying to see her. All that was left was the swirling water where she had disappeared. I felt very alone. Then Mother’s bottom popped up above the surface. I tilted my head to one side. She must be eating something under the water, I thought. As I started to go help her, she raised her head and looked at me. Water poured from her chin and cheeks. A long strand of grass hung from her mouth.
While I lay quietly, Mother continued to drop into the water, looking for tender bits of pond weed. Her bottom would pop to the surface, then her head would follow. I worried about her at first, then I knew that she was okay.
I rested my head on my front legs. Closing my eyes, I listened to the sounds of the forest. I knew that I must become familiar with each noise in my new home.
• • •
As days went by I found that my mother was right. Just as she had told me, I began to learn the calls of many forest birds. The little things that buzzed around our heads were bugs. Mother called them flies. Sometimes they were hungry. When they bit my ears, it hurt—but not too bad. Other times they tickled when they landed in my fur. Mostly, except for the buzzing sounds, I never even noticed them. There were other bugs in the grass and weeds. They all made different sounds and did different things. Mother was right. I was learning a lot. Still . . .
The name thing really bothered me.
Chapter 2
Stay here, little one. I’m going into the pond, and you’re not quite ready for that. Besides, you need to think of a name.”
I watched as Mother sloshed into the water. Settling down into the soft leaves and twigs, I rested my chin on my front legs. A small butterfly landed on my ear. It tickled. I twitched carefully. She flittered by my face and landed on a log nearby. I watched her without moving so much as an eyelash. The butterfly stretched out her wings, then fluttered away. She moved along with the gentle breeze. Thinking up a name needed lots of concentration. My eyes closed.
A name. I need a name. This is harder than learning to walk.
Tap! Tap! The woodpecker’s noises made me feel safe and comfortable.
“Buzz, shirrr, zoom . . .” The bugs in the forest sounded loud against the quiet of the trees.
Opening my eyes, I could see a few of the tiny things creeping slowly around the grass and weeds. Their small movements were magnified when I concentrated on each one. Very still—without the slightest wiggle—I tried to spot as many as I could. I counted and counted, then closed my eyes again. I have to think of a name.
I was almost asleep when a new sound came to my ears. It was almost like the noise the birds made when they were scratching in the ground, looking for food. Still, it was louder . . . bigger, somehow. I didn’t move a muscle. Slowly I opened my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing.
“Hey, Bub! Hey . . . Pay attention!”
“What?” I gasped. I jumped up and spun around.
The voice wasn’t sweet and soft like Mother’s. It was rough, like someone with rocks in his throat. Next a harsh scraping sound came to my ears.
“I said, ‘Hey, Bub! Pay attention!”’
No, this wasn’t Mother’s sweet sound. It wasn’t friendly at all. The voice was deep and gruff. I stared at the spot where it came from. All that I could see was a tree. It looked funny. Not like the others in the forest. It was big at the bottom, but in the middle it was narrow and white. The top was like other trees. It didn’t have very many leaves, though.
“I didn’t know that trees could talk!”
“What’s wrong with you, Bub? I’m not a tree. Listen to me. You need to pay attention, or you’re going to get hurt!”
“What does pay attention mean? I know how to listen.” I suddenly had that alone feeling again.
“Pay attention means watch what you’re doing. Right now you need to look out!”
“Look out for what?” I strained my eyes trying to find out who was talking to me.
“You’re not very bright are you, Bub?” The gravelly voice seemed close.
“I’m smart enough. I just haven’t been here very long. Why don’t you show me where you are?”
“Are you crazy? I don’t want to get hit in the head. You need to wake up and pay attention!”
“Pay attention to WHAT?”
Suddenly a brown face poked out from behind the tree. Two large yellow teeth stuck out from the face. “Look out for this, you twit!”
“For what?” I asked again.
“The tree, you silly little thing. It’s going to fall, and you’re right in the way.”
Looking up, I noticed the tall thin tree swaying back and forth in the breeze.
I jumped away as fast as my legs would let me. I ran toward the pond and Mother.
“Cra-a-ack!” The sound was new to my ears. The smell of fresh wood came to my nose. I glanced back over my shoulder to see what had happened.
The tall tree tilted way to one side. Slowly it fell toward the ground. Smack! The thing landed just inches from the spot where I had been sleeping.
“Hey, what was that? How did you do that?” Moving closer, I sniffed at the tree that lay still and quiet on the ground.
“It’s easy, Bub. That’s what beavers do all day.”
“You’re a beaver? Where do you live? I haven’t seen you before.” Stepping closer for a better look, I tried to check him out.
“My whole family is over there in the pond. We have to work hard all day to keep our lodge safe. Then, there’s the dam to repair so the water doesn’t leak out and food to gather for winter and . . .” He sighed. “Just so much work for a beaver, and so little time.”
I looked toward the pond. Mother popped up, but she didn’t come to my rescue. I guess she hadn’t heard the crash. The beaver gnawed and tore at the small limbs on the tree that he had sent to the ground.
“How many are in your family?” I asked. “We just have Mother and me in our family.” I dropped my head and perked my ears toward the tree.
“Hey, Bub, I don’t have time for chitchat! I’ve got work to do.”
“Sorry. I’m just curious. Mother says baby moose are supposed to be curious. I don’t mean to bother you, but I was resting comfortably and you almost dropped a tree right on me!” I shook my body. The memory of the tree landing where I had been sleeping gave me the shivers.
“That’s not my problem. Your mother should have put you in a safer place. This forest belongs to me and my family. Move along, I’ve got work to do!”
“You tried to flatten me with a tree! I want to know more about you so that I can watch out for you and your family.” I peered down my nose at him.
“Get lost, Bub! I don’t have time. Your mother should have told you about us already.” I watched as the beaver cut limbs with his sharp
yellow teeth, then pulled them away.
Watching him, I lay down in the grass. The animal was covered with brown fur, the kind I had seen on other animals. Yet he was different. Instead of a nice fluffy tail, his looked like a piece of wood. Or maybe a pinecone, only flat. He had a big head and his jaws had to be very strong. The limbs seemed to fly off the tree.
“Why are your ears so small?” I tried to look at my own big floppy ears. Mother had beautiful large ears.
“Eh . . . You still here, Bub? Don’t you get it? I want you to get lost!”
“I don’t want to get lost. Mother would be lonely without me. What’s your name?”
The beaver squinted his eyes and looked my way. “Good grief, don’t you ever give up? You’re a question a minute.”
“How can I learn anything if I don’t ask questions? What’s your name?”
The beaver turned away from the log and sat down. The big hump on his back made him look huge. I stretched my neck to get a closer look. His big flat tail stretched out behind him. It gave a little thump on the ground.
“Dudley. They call me Dudley. Any more questions?” He squinted his eyes tightly.
“That’s a nice name. Why do you squint your eyes?”
“Hey, Bub, I was just kidding. I don’t really need more questions!” His tiny ears twitched a little.
“As soon as I know everything about you, I won’t ever have to ask you another question. So this is just going to save you time.” That made sense. At least to me.
“You think so, Bub? I have work to do, but give it a go.” Dudley leaned against the tree that he had dropped to the ground.
“First question?”
“Why are you squinting at me? Your eyes don’t look very big. My eyes are big and round. You smush your eyes tight. How can you see?”
“That’s more than one question. I knew that you couldn’t pay attention. I’ll say it again. First question.”
“Okay, why do you squint?”
“That’s very good. Actually, I can’t see very well. I have to count on my hearing and my sense of smell to tell me what’s going on. I could smell you, and I could tell you weren’t dangerous, so I decided to warn you. Usually, when a tree starts to fall, I have to run like crazy to make sure it doesn’t land on me. This was just your lucky day. Now, I have to get busy.”
Bub Moose Page 1