I didn’t know about Snow, but I felt like a total idiot. We moose are really good about getting to our feet. Standing is the first thing we learn, as little-bitty babies. Being all tangled up and unable to move . . . well, it was disgusting.
With a grunt, Snow finally yanked one leg free. I rolled toward him, then away from him. He got another leg out from under us. Once loose, he hopped around in front of me and glared.
“What were you doing? I thought that we were just playing! The next thing I know you shove me off the cliff.”
I shook my head again. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t even know what happened. We were standing there and then . . . Oh, now I remember! There were big snarling animals behind you. They were enormous and had long, sharp teeth and eyes that burned when they looked at me.”
“Animals? Animals? What kind of animals? I didn’t see anything. You must have dreamed it.”
I straightened out one leg, but the other one wouldn’t move. It was still stuck. Frowning, I tried to look. It was pinned under something, only I couldn’t see. I wiggled and leaned to one side. There it was—my front leg was stuck under my back leg. How did I get in such a mess?
Rocking from side to side, I finally got my legs untangled. I scrambled to my feet, kind of shook, then looked down to see what the damage was. It wasn’t bad. There was dust and dirt all over me. There was a scratch on my right knee, and my left hip felt kind of sore. Other than that . . .
“What kind of animals,” Snow repeated.
I glanced down. Snow was kind of dusty and dirty, too. He didn’t seem to be hurt, though. His eyes drew to tiny slits as he stared at me.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“The animals.”
“Oh, the scary ones. Ah . . . let me think.”
“Come on,” he urged.
Trying to remember, I closed my eyes.
There had been five big animals standing there. They all had long sharp teeth. Teeth that weren’t much good for eating grass or pond roots. Teeth that were mean and scary and pointed. When I’d looked at them, their pink lips curled back, and I could see how long and scary those teeth really were.
Just remembering sent a chill through me. Glancing up, I tried to see if they were still there, looking down at us. I couldn’t even see where we had been.
“Well?”
I peeked down. Snow’s head was cocked to one side. His big fluffy tail didn’t wag. It just drooped behind him.
With a shrug of my floppy ears, I swallowed. “I don’t know what I saw. They looked a little bit like you, only bigger. There were lots of long, sharp, scary teeth and . . . and . . . All I did was step back to get away, and here we are.”
Snow gave a little snort and shook himself. Some of the dust and dirt that covered his white fur puffed into the air and drifted away on the wind. Stepping back, I stared up at the mountain. The side was steep and rugged. I sat down on my rear. Snow stood beside me. With me sitting and him standing, we were both about the same size. Eyes wide and mouths opened, we looked up at the cliff.
“You say they kind of looked like me?”
“Yes. Only bigger and they showed me their teeth and they looked at me—real mean.”
“Maybe those big animals were my pack. Maybe they saw us playing and thought you were trying to hurt me.”
My bottom lip stuck out and kind of wiggled up and down. “I think they wanted to eat me.”
Snow leaned over and kissed me with his long pink tongue. “They wouldn’t hurt you. You’re my friend.” He scratched his neck with his back leg. “I bet they thought I needed help. I wouldn’t let them hurt you. You would be safe with me.”
For a long time we sat, staring at the steep slope. Finally I looked over at my friend. Snow’s bottom lip stuck out and quivered up and down like mine. “How are we going to get back up there?” He sniffed. “How are we going to get back home?”
“My mother told me to stay away from the cliff.” Now my lip was twitching again. “She said that it was dangerous and that I couldn’t get back if I came down here. She is going to be worried if she can’t see me!” A knot tightened up in my throat. It felt a lot like the very first time I tried to eat grass instead of Mother’s milk. This knot was different, somehow. It made my stomach feel wiggly and made my bottom lip bounce so much that I couldn’t control it.
“Hooowl, yip, yip!”
The sound made me jump. I looked. Snow’s head was up, his neck stretched out. “Hooowl, yip, yip, yip!”
Snow made it look like a big deal. It was a tiny sound, though, that I could barely hear. Frowning, I studied him for a moment.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m calling for my pack, what do you think?”
“I think you sound silly! They can’t hear you with that little yapping sound. We are too far away, and besides, what would they do anyway?” That knot tightened in my throat again, especially when I thought about what they might do—to me.
“They will come get me. As soon as they can, they will come and rescue us.” Snow started to howl again.
“Hush, let’s see if we can find our own way up.” I jumped to my feet and climbed. But the more I tried to climb, the steeper it seemed to get. I didn’t go very far. Each time I took a step, the ground moved out from under me. Small pebbles bounced and clattered and rolled. I climbed faster. It only made more of the loose rocks scamper from under my hooves. I stopped. Snow was next to me. Puffing hard for air, he stopped, too. My head hung low.
“Maybe we can find a different place to go up. It might be easier in another spot. There must be a slope that’s not so steep. Come on.”
Snow followed me along the edge of the mountain. As we walked, I thought about Mother. When she came back to the cliff, she would look for me in the safe nest where she had left me. I wouldn’t be there. Mother wouldn’t be able to find me if we moved very far. I stopped dead in my tracks.
“We need to stay put,” I said. “We need to go back where we were. Mother won’t be able to find me if we move.”
Snow’s pointy nose twitched one way, then the other. “Yeah, but she couldn’t see us where we were, either.”
I looked up once more. Snow was right. The mountain was too steep. We couldn’t even see the top. I sighed and followed my friend. We walked a short distance along a narrow ledge. When that path disappeared, we had to scoot down another little hill. Suddenly Snow’s bushy tail shot straight up. Loose rock scattered under his paws and he tumbled. Leaning forward, I peeked over the little ledge where he had vanished. Snow was already on his feet. He shook himself, real hard. Dust flew in all directions. Carefully I climbed down beside him. My big hooves helped me stay steady.
“Hey, Bub, how are you doing?” Snow shook again and wagged his tail as if trying to pretend he hadn’t fallen.
“I’m okay, but shouldn’t we be going up, instead of down?”
“Nah! We have to find the right spot. We may have to go down before we can find the perfect place to go back up.” We stood together looking at the mountain.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure. My pack has been all over this mountain. There has to be a place to get back up. We just have to find it.”
That knot was back in my throat and tummy. “This is my first time away from our pond. I want to go home. I want my mother.”
“Trust me. We have been everywhere on this mountain. There has to be a way back up. Just be patient.”
I raised my head and puffed out my chest big and proud. I wasn’t scared anymore. Snow knew the way back.
“You’ve been here.” I smiled. “You’ve been this close to the people?”
“Well, no. Not exactly here.” Snow glanced back over his shoulder at me. “Mother says that people are the most dangerous animals in the forest. She never let me come down here before.”
“But . . . but, you said you’d been all over the mountain. You said . . .”
Snow gave a little snor
t. “I have been all over the mountain. But the mountain is up there.” He pointed with his little black button nose. “This is the valley. I haven’t been here before, but if we can find the right place . . . I just know . . .”
My head drooped and the air whooshed out of my proud chest. I didn’t feel so brave anymore. I wanted my mother!
I tried to remember all the lessons she had taught me. I couldn’t think of anything that would help. I listened for the safe sounds of the meadow. They weren’t there. My ears flopped one way, then the other. I couldn’t hear woodpecker’s familiar tap, tap, tap. All I could hear were the pads of Snow’s paws crunching on the loose rock.
I followed him as he zigzagged farther down the mountain. Keeping my eye on Snow, just like I did when I followed Mother, we made our way clear to the bottom. There I stopped. Sighing, I looked longingly up the steep hill with the loose rocks. Mother would find me. . . . Mother just had to find me!
Ringgg!”
My heart stopped. My eyes flashed wide.
“Ringgg!” The loud, horrible sound came again.
Snow and I froze in our tracks. We looked up. The mountain—I mean building—where the people had been was right in front of us. Suddenly it burst open. Through the opening, it looked like a cave Mother had shown me in the mountains. Little people rushed from the cave, screaming and giggling and making all sorts of strange noises.
Eyes wide, all I could do was watch as they poured out. Snow crouched down, but like me, all he could do was stand there.
“Hey, look at the moose,” a voice came to my ears. The noises got louder and louder as the small animals moved toward us.
“Yeah,” another voice squealed. “There’s a dog with him, too.”
“That’s not a dog!” yet another voice chimed in. “That’s a wolf!”
Heart pounding inside my chest, I tried to back up. Loose rocks slid beneath my hooves.
At the very same instant Snow and I turned around. We raced for the slope and climbed. We had to get away from these dangerous creatures. We ran as hard and fast as we could. Rocks scraped and scattered and tumbled. We ran harder. More rocks slipped away. We ran as hard as we could.
Only trouble . . . no matter how hard we ran . . . we didn’t go any place.
Finally—exhausted and gasping for breath—we fell.
The little people were all around us. I tried to jump to my feet, but I was so tired. Snow wiggled beneath me. My nostrils flared. My eyes sprang wide. My ears perked.
The people were everywhere. They came closer and closer and . . .
We were goners. Mother was right, people were dangerous, and they were going to get us.
I closed my eyes and waited for the end.
Chapter 7
Wide-eyed I watched the people move closer. All at once a big person stepped in front of the others. She raised her front hoof. She held a little silver thing in it. It was as sparkly as a dew drop, but larger. She held the silvery dew drop to her lips and took a deep breath. A loud shrill tweet came from her mouth. I guess she was like Mother. The little ones knew her special hronk or tweet. Instantly the small people looked at her and got very quiet. They backed away just a bit. My legs were so wobbly I could barely stand. My knees were scratched and sore. Everything inside told me to run, but I was too weak. I just couldn’t do it.
The big person’s front legs reached out. She inched, ever so slowly, toward me. Something about her look—her tender smile—quieted the scared feeling inside of me.
Her small blue eyes were soft. Her back legs took short steps toward me. Looking again at her face, I felt that she was friendly. I don’t know why, but her lips were stretched upward. The little people were making quiet noises, but they didn’t move any closer. I tried to think of Mother’s lessons. The only one that I could remember was Stay away from people.
Except this people didn’t look dangerous. The two front feet were in the air, but she wasn’t pawing or trying to hit me. Just short legs reaching out slow and gentle.
A warm feeling went over me as something touched my head, then rubbed my neck.
“Grrrrrr . . . Get away from my friend!” Snow threatened from behind me.
I glanced back at him. “Why are you making that racket?”
“The people are hurting you,” Snow growled. “I’m warning them to stay away.”
“It really doesn’t hurt,” I told him. “In fact, this feels pretty good. How can it hurt me?” The person gently scratched behind my ears and neck. “I like this. It feels friendly, not scary at all. Be quiet, they aren’t even near you.”
When I looked back, two small people were coming close to my face. I twitched my ears. Small hooves reached out and rubbed my cheek and chin. It was very nice to have gentle rubs. I thought about Mother’s sweet kisses. A feeling of sadness swept over me when I remembered that she wasn’t anywhere near. I couldn’t get away from the small people, so I just stood there. A few of the little ones came closer, then they stepped back, and some more filed up to touch me. Nobody tried to get close to Snow. He hid behind me, crouching low. Occasionally I could hear a soft “Grrrr . . .”
My legs were getting wobbly.
“Ringggg.”
Reluctantly, almost one at a time, the people turned away and moved back toward the building.
Exhausted, I plopped down on my rump. My eyes closed and the rest of my body fell into a heap. Still watching the people, Snow eased around to my face and sniffed me.
“See, I told you they would hurt you.” Snow shoved at my legs with his snout.
“I’m not hurt. I’m just sooooo tired. The people felt good against my body. It was kind of like Mother. I just need a quick nap.” My eyes felt heavy as I drifted off. I thought about Mother’s beautiful face looking down at me.
• • •
I don’t know how long I slept, but when I opened my eyes again, long shadows stretched across the grass. Snow was tucked up against me, asleep. When I straightened my legs, I shoved him away a little.
Snow’s eyes flashed. He jumped up, looking around for danger.
“Geerrrrr!” He tried to sound mean and tough. When he didn’t see any of the people close, he blinked. “What’s going on?”
“I just need to move a little.” I stretched my legs out as far as I could. Hopping up, hind end first, I felt much stronger now.
Snow gave a shake. “Are you ready to move on? Our pack doesn’t stay anywhere very long, and we have been here quite a while.”
I glanced toward the building. “Are those people still in there?”
Snow shrugged his ears. “I fell asleep, but I usually hear noises. I haven’t heard any more of the sounds that bring them outside. Let’s get going. It’ll be dark soon. My pack will be looking for me.”
Keeping our distance, we watched the building for any movement. We walked a little ways from the place where we had come down. I felt stronger after my rest, so we tried again. The climb was still much too steep. Snow clawed at the rocks and pebbles but for every step he went up, he slid back two.
“We’ve got to go down some more. This isn’t a good spot to get up the mountain.” Snow pranced off ahead of me.
I hesitated. “There are too many buildings and people down there. Somebody is going to hurt us.”
Snow tilted his head to the side. “So what are you going to do? Just sit here? Those little people will be back. We have to find a better place to climb up.” Snow rubbed his face against my neck.
“Hronk!” I squeaked.
Snow jumped away from me. “What was that?”
“That was me. I am calling for Mother. She will know what to do when she finds me.” I raised my chin to call once more.
“Wait. Stop! The people will come out here. You don’t want them to hurt you again, do you?”
“Nobody hurt me that first time. They were gentle and kind. Maybe they will find my mother and bring her to me.” I ducked my head to look Snow in the eye. He leaned his head to the side.
“I don’t think so. If they did find your mother they wouldn’t know how to tell her where her baby was. We have to do this on our own. Let’s go, NOW!” Again Snow trotted off down the path that led toward more people buildings.
I thought about what he said. It made sense. Mother didn’t like the people, either. She wouldn’t know what they were trying to tell her. Snow was right. We had to go on our own. Cautiously I followed my furry friend. I kept my eyes on his fluffy tail. The big buildings loomed tall and close so I tried to think of the beautiful meadow where I belonged—where I felt safe.
We found a path where the ground was hard and black. It looked like a car road, but I wasn’t sure. There were no stripes down the middle. The mountain, where we came from, was on one side of us and the buildings were on the other. Stopping in front of me, Snow sniffed the air. A strange odor came to my nostrils. Stretching his neck, Snow searched for the smell. His little black nose jiggled back and forth.
“What is it?” I asked, watching him.
“It’s food. I’m hungry!”
“What kind of food?” I frowned. “I eat tender morsels of grass, but mostly, I get milk from Mother. What food smells like that?”
The little black button on the tip of Snow’s snout leaned toward the smell. His tail wagged. “I don’t know. But it smells wonderful!”
“We don’t have time. Our mothers are waiting for us to come back to them. We’ll get plenty of food then.” I started walking along the road. Snow followed me, but his nose kept wiggling in the air.
“Here’s that smell! It’s coming from the trash can.” Snow stopped and pointed with his nose.
“What’s a trash can?” I asked, tilting my head to one side.
“That gray thing over there,” Snow answered. “I’ve got to get some of that delicious food.”
“We have to move on,” I argued. “You said that you could get us out of here. We don’t have time to look around. Come on!”
It was too late, Snow had already headed toward the back of the building.
Bub Moose Page 4