by Erin Hunter
“They’re hungry,” Ossi’s mother replied. “We all know that food is harder to find.”
“That doesn’t mean they get to steal ours,” Taloa retorted.
Lusa couldn’t believe that these bears were talking about food, when they should have been planning to rescue Miki.
Don’t they care at all? she asked herself, choking back her fury. Maybe they were cowards, like the white bear had said.
The white bears had finished stripping the berry bushes and were prowling into the clearing. Lusa spotted a flicker of movement at the edge: A squirrel whipped around and scurried away as soon as it saw the white bears.
But the white bears had seen it, too. “Squirrel!” one of them growled. They charged across the open land and vanished; a heartbeat later a shrill squeal came from the forest, abruptly cut off. Lusa could hear snarling as the white bears squabbled over their prey.
“We’ve got to fight them!” Ossi barked. “Force them out of our territory before we have nothing left to eat!”
“You stay where you are,” his mother snapped. “Do you want to end up like that squirrel?”
“Then what about Miki?” Lusa cried.
“The white bears are too fierce and strong,” Hashi said. “We’d never win against them in a fight.”
“Then why don’t we go talk to them?” Lusa begged, gazing up at the old bear on the branch above her. “I know bears of different kinds can get along together. Maybe all we need to do is ask, and they’ll let Miki go.”
Hashi blinked solemnly at her. “We can do nothing for Miki. His fate is in the paws of the spirits.”
Lusa clung to her branch as a chilly breeze sprang up, rustling through the trees. The voices of the bear spirits were all around her.
Hashi raised his head. “Spirits,” he called. “The forest is our home. Do not let the white bears take it from us. We ask this of you, Bear Watcher. Before the sun touches the horizon, and the Longest Day is over, prove to us that our territory is safe. Bring us a sign!”
The voices of the bear spirits murmured on, but Lusa couldn’t understand their reply. “What happens if the Bear Watcher doesn’t bring a sign? What will you do then?”
“Then we fight the white bears!” Ossi growled. “We can—” He broke off with a squeal as his mother raked her claws over his ear.
“If we try to fight, we’ll all be killed,” she snapped.
“I don’t know why we’re even talking about this,” a voice came from the branches of the next tree, from a bear Lusa couldn’t see. “There’s nothing we can do, and that’s that.”
Hashi rose to his paws and balanced on his branch. “If the spirits do not help us, then I will never come to Great Bear Lake again for the Longest Day.”
For a moment there was silence except for the growls of the white bears somewhere in the forest.
“Hashi, have you got honey between your ears?” Ossi’s mother said. “Haven’t you been listening? If the spirits don’t help us, there will be no forest for black bears. Great Bear Lake will belong to the white bears!”
A chorus of growls and huffs broke out from the other bears.
“The spirits have abandoned us!” Taloa snarled.
“This is not going to help Miki!” Lusa exclaimed.
No bear answered her. I have to do something! As quietly as she could she scrambled through the branches until she could climb down the tree on the opposite side from the clearing.
I’m going to find Ujurak and Toklo. They’ll know what to do to help Miki. If it isn’t too late.
She crept through the trees, heading for the shore. From there it was only a short journey to the brown bears’ territory. She could already see the rock where Hashi had stood to greet the sun when she heard a roar from behind her, and the sound of heavy bodies crashing through the undergrowth.
“I can see you!” one of the white bears roared. “You won’t get away!”
Lusa’s heart stopped for a moment. Then she started to run. She could hear the white bears pounding after her and imagined their teeth meeting in her scruff. They would pick her up and shake her just like Miki, and then probably eat her.
No! Lusa wasn’t going to let that happen. Bears did not eat other bears, especially not on the Longest Day. She broke out into the open on the lakeshore. The wet rocks were sharp and slippery under her paws, and once she left the trees behind there was nowhere to hide. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw one white bear hard on her paws. She wanted to race along the shore, but her pursuer forced her to swerve toward the waterline, scattering the barrier of leaves and berries and breaking twigs under her paws.
Now the spirits will be angry with me!
As she tried to scramble over a slanting boulder, the white bear barged into her. Lusa’s paws skidded on the wet rock; with an icy shock the lake water surged around her and her head went under.
Paws flailing, she forced herself back to the surface, to see the white bear sliding into the water nearby. Lusa began to paddle furiously, swimming out toward the middle of the lake. She knew she was a good swimmer, but when she looked back she could see that the white bear was gliding through the water much faster than she was, his nostrils flared and his black eyes half-closed against the waves.
Then she heard a faint cry from the receding shore. “Iqaluk! Leave her—she’ll have to come back eventually!”
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the other two white bears had appeared from the trees. The bear chasing Lusa gave up his pursuit and began to head back to the shore. “I’ll be waiting, little bear!” he snarled as he paddled smoothly away.
Lusa stopped to catch her breath, treading water, and looked around. She had already swum a long way out, and her legs ached from her dash through the trees. The breeze was strengthening and the lake water grew choppy. She didn’t dare swim straight back to shore, because the white bears would be waiting for her. She needed to head for the brown bears’ territory, where she could find Toklo and Ujurak and get their help to chase out the white bears, but that was much farther away.
I’m not sure I can make it, Lusa thought wearily as she struck out.
Closer than the shore she was making for, she spotted an island covered by trees. Lusa began to swim toward it; she would rest there for a while, then swim directly back into brown bear territory to look for Toklo and Ujurak. Every stroke was an effort now; waves splashed into her face and it was hard to keep her muzzle clear of them. She choked and spluttered as a wave broke over her face, and for a moment she felt the dark water pulling her down….
Suddenly her paws scraped against stones; with a huff of relief she managed to stand up and wade out of the lake. Exhausted, dripping water, she scrambled over the rocks and onto a pebbly stretch of ground that separated the lake from the trees in the center of the island.
There was a furious roar behind her. She spun around as a brown bear sprang toward her with his claws stretched out. As he knocked her over and landed hard on top of her, she gasped, “Toklo!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Toklo
Toklo stared at the black bear cowering under his paws. “Lusa!”
“Toklo, let me up!” Lusa barked urgently.
Startled, Toklo backed off. If she followed me here to talk about Oka, I’ll claw her fur off!
Lusa scrambled to her paws and shook herself; Toklo sprang farther back to avoid the water and grit spattering from her pelt.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I didn’t know.” Lusa’s eyes stretched wide. “Toklo, I need your help!”
“What’s the matter?” Toklo asked. “Is it Ujurak?”
“No, I haven’t seen him—but we need to find him, too. I’m sure he’ll know what to do.”
Irritation pricked every hair on Toklo’s pelt. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lusa flopped down on the pebbles, panting from her swim. “I told you, I need your help.
I—”
“Come farther up,” Toklo interrupted. He didn’t want another bear on Pawprint Island with him, but there was no need for Lusa to shiver in the wind. “There’s a place to rest under a pine tree.”
“There’s no time. The white bears have taken Miki! He’s a black bear cub, a friend of mine,” Lusa went on quickly.
“What do you mean, white bears have taken him?” Toklo managed to get a word in.
“They came around the lake and invaded the forest. They’re not supposed to—they’re supposed to stay in their own territory, on the other side of the lake. They’re so big! And so white, like snow. They started scaring the black bears, and taking our food. Miki and I were up a tree. We tried to find the others to warn them, but a branch broke and Miki fell. One of the white bears picked him up and carried him off. We’ve got to rescue him!” Lusa finished breathlessly.
“I can’t.” Toklo shook his head. The white bears must have been the pale shapes he had seen across the water. How strange, a bear that wasn’t black or brown. They’d find it hard to stalk prey because their pelts would stand out against trees or grass or even rocks. “The brown bears chose me to stay on this island for all of the Longest Day, to please the spirits. Then they’ll give us back our salmon.”
Lusa stared at him. “But Miki will die!”
“That’s not my fault.” Toklo bristled. “I don’t have to look after black bears!”
“I don’t believe this!” Lusa flared up, fury blazing in her eyes. “You’re just scared.”
“I’m not scared. But I’ve never met Miki. Why should I risk my neck to help him?”
“Because no other bear will, and I can’t do this on my own,” Lusa said quietly. “Come with me, Toklo, and we’ll find Ujurak, too, and—”
“And then what? Do you think that the three of us can take on all the white bears? They’ll kill us, as well as your friend, and what good will that do?”
“I’ll think of a plan.” Lusa spoke confidently. “You’ll see.”
Toklo huffed. “I won’t see, because I’m not going with you.”
“I wish Ujurak were here,” Lusa said. “Ujurak, where are you?”
“I’m sorry, Lusa,” Toklo said. “But Miki isn’t my problem. I am a brown bear. Brown bears don’t meddle in the affairs of other bears. We live alone.”
Lusa gave Toklo a long look. She’s not going to talk me into it, he told himself. I’ve already fought one battle today. I have nothing to prove, especially not to black bears.
“All right,” Lusa said at last. She took a deep breath and rose to her paws. “I’ll go alone.”
For a few heartbeats Toklo wanted to stop her. She was going to throw her life away for nothing. But he was a brown bear. He was here to honor Arcturus, and help to bring the salmon back. He couldn’t get involved in the troubles of black bears.
“Good luck, Lusa,” he murmured.
Lusa didn’t reply. Turning away, she padded back to the lake and waded out into the water.
Toklo stood at the water’s edge, watching her bobbing black head as she swam toward the opposite side of the lake, where the white bears gathered.
Suddenly, a feeling of dark emptiness opened inside him like the jaws of an angry bear. Instead of the lake before him, he saw Ujurak being hit by the firebeast at the end of the bridge; then the vision of Ujurak turned into his brother, Tobi, cold on the mountainside, covered in dirt and twigs. He rubbed his eyes and the lake returned, and far out in the water, the small black cub swimming away from him.
Was he sending Lusa to her death?
“Come back!” he called, but his voice was whipped away by the wind.
He curled up beside a stone, dark thoughts swarming like bees in his brain.
Did Oka feel like that when Tobi died? Did she abandon me because she couldn’t face feeling that way again? But she should have protected me. I was her cub, too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Kallik
Kallik spun around and fled from the forest. Black bears! She had seen black bears, eating bushes in a clearing. That couldn’t be right. Siqiniq had told her there were black bears and brown bears on the other side of the lake, but Kallik hadn’t really believed her until she had seen them for herself. And even though they were much smaller than white bears, she was afraid. They were so different!
At last she had to stop and catch her breath, glancing back to make sure the strange-colored bears hadn’t followed her. To her relief, the dark line of the forest was still and silent. Crouching among the reeds, Kallik watched the waves washing in and out. The sun was sliding down the sky, turning the lake water to dazzling gold. Above the waves, birds swooped for insects, calling out in harsh voices. Kallik started as she spotted movement at the edge of the forest. She raised her head, her ears pricked. A single white bear, tiny at that distance, had just emerged from the trees. Kallik couldn’t see any sign of the other three.
As the bear drew nearer she realized it was Taqqiq. He was carrying something black and awkward in his mouth, something that moved jerkily. At first Kallik couldn’t make out what it was. She stared, her eyes watering in the sharp breeze, as he splashed his way toward her. She blinked. He was holding a small black bear cub, twisting and struggling to free himself from Taqqiq’s grip on his scruff. The wind carried his frightened whimpering across the marshes to Kallik.
No! He’s brought one of the black bears!
Springing to her paws, she rushed toward her brother, and met him as he leaped one of the small streams that wound its way into the lake. She stopped dead in front of him to block his path. “Taqqiq, what have you done?”
She stretched out her neck to sniff the tiny cub; his warm black fur smelled of leaves, trees, and earth rich with worms.
Taqqiq dropped the cub and slammed a paw down on his neck to stop him from running off. The cub let out a squeal of pain and terror. Abruptly Kallik’s suspicion turned to pity. This black cub was a bear like her, as frightened as she would have been if a bigger bear had caught her like prey.
“He’s ours now,” Taqqiq growled. “He’s only a black bear. He’s too small and weak to do anything but snuffle out ants and worms.”
“Are you going to eat him?” Kallik couldn’t stop her voice from quavering.
“No, who’d want to eat all that fluff!” Taqqiq huffed scornfully. “Salik says he has to be alive or Kunik and Imik and the rest of the white bears will think we found him dead, and the plan won’t work.”
“What are you talking about, Taqqiq? What plan?”
“When every bear sees how easily we took this cub from the forest, they will want to return to the forest with us. The black bear territory is ours for the taking, Kallik!”
“He’s only a baby!” Kallik exclaimed. “Let him go.”
Taqqiq let out a growl of annoyance. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand that you’re hurting him.” Kallik dug her claws into the wet ground. “Taqqiq, are you stupid? What about the other black bears? The big ones will be angry.”
Taqqiq peeled back his lips, baring his teeth. “They’re all hiding in the trees like dumb, scaredy birds.”
“Aren’t you afraid they’ll come looking for this cub?”
“I’m not scared,” Taqqiq replied. “The black bears know that they can’t fight us. Only one kind of bear can survive now—the strongest and the bravest. And that’s us.”
“Taqqiq, no! White bears need the ice, with seals and fish. What good is food from the forest to us? Let the black bears have it.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Taqqiq’s voice was impatient. “The ice melts earlier every year. Nisa told us that back in our BirthDen. What happens when there is no more ice?”
“That will never happen!” Kallik gasped in horror. “The spirits wouldn’t allow it.”
“I told you, if there are any spirits, then they don’t care about us. If white bears are going to survive we must leave the ice and move inland. We have to t
ake the territories of the black bears and brown bears and learn to live there. That’s what Salik says, and I believe him.”
For a heartbeat Kallik remembered the ice: the vast shining stretches with powdery snow blown across the surface by the wind. She remembered crouching with her mother and Taqqiq beside a seal hole, and the delicious taste of the fat when Nisa had captured her prey. She remembered how safe and warm she had felt in her BirthDen, with the storm winds howling outside. And white bears were supposed to give that up, and live in the dirt and damp of the forest?
“White bears will never do that,” she snapped. “Your brain is full of feathers.”
As she finished speaking she heard pawsteps splashing through the marshes and looked up to see Taqqiq’s three friends bounding along the shore. Her heart sank. She might have been able to convince Taqqiq to let the cub go, but she knew she would never convince Salik.
“Not you again!” Salik growled as he came up. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from us?”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Kallik retorted, facing him.
Salik and the two others ignored her. They padded up to Taqqiq, who took his paw off the cub’s neck, and let the tiny creature get up. The black bear cub bared his teeth at Salik, and lashed out one paw, but the blow only ruffled Salik’s fur. The white bear retaliated by cuffing him over the head.
“That hurt!” the cub snarled. “Let me go!”
Salik gave him a hard jab in the side with one paw, and the cub crouched down, whimpering. Iqaluk padded up to him and gave him a doubtful sniff. “He smells funny.”
“Of course he smells funny,” Salik growled. “He’s not like us.”
Manik was eyeing the cub with a mixture of fear and fascination. “I don’t like this,” he muttered. “I say we let him go. He’s going to cause nothing but trouble.”
“The white bears need to see him, seal-brain! He’s going to help us get food.” Salik rammed his shoulder into the other bear’s side. “Of course, if you don’t want any…”