Cave Bear Mountain

by Jo Sandhu

  In that moment, Tarin’s heart stopped. He looked into the eyes of the beast, and saw a creature maddened with pain. He heard the throb of its heart, labouring in distress, as though with the keen ears of Wolf. He saw the blood flowing from a multitude of wounds, as Owl could see. Its life force was slipping away. But still it was a formidable foe and still it could kill him with one swipe.

  ‘Tarin!’ Kaija screamed, but her voice was lost in the chaos.

  Spirit of Bear roared and Tarin stood and faced it. Immense power and rage swirled around the bear like an inferno. It drew Tarin in, and he took a step forward.

  ‘You will be free soon,’ he said to Bear, staring deep into eyes of blackest night. Huge white teeth gleamed in the firelight, like the teeth his father wore about his neck. White claws slashed the darkness, like the claws Kalle had claimed when he faced the cave bear alone. Tarin had heard the story many times – how Kalle had faced a full-grown cave bear, armed only with a small flint knife, and how he had won.

  Drums echoed in Tarin’s head. Were they the mammoth bone drums, resonating deep within him? But these were not the Mammutti drums. These were the drums of the Bear People.

  The cave bear roared again and ripped the air savagely. It lunged at Tarin, but Rohk leapt forward and grappled with him. Claws and teeth clashed in a frenzy. The bear swiped and the wolf fell back, a bloody gash down his flank. He readied himself for another attack, but Luuka cast his spear. It flew straight into the bear’s throat. The bear stumbled and roared. His strength was nearly spent.

  Tarin stumbled, too, as though his limbs were suddenly without power. Pain lanced his throat and he tore his skin in an effort to breath. His vision dimmed. The great cave bear bellowed.

  The men circled for the killing blow, but as the mighty beast finally fell, he swung towards Fredik, and dragged the man down with him into the remains of one of the fires. The men leapt onto the fallen animal. Fredik screamed as the hot rocks seared his face and arms.

  ‘Get him out of there!’ Kaija shouted.

  A couple of the young men realised what had happened, and hauled their leader out.

  ‘Get him to the waterfall pool. Hurry!’ Kaija barked her orders at them. With Tarin and Luuka’s help, they dragged Fredik, screaming, to the pool and rolled him into the cool water.

  ‘We don’t need your help,’ he snarled.

  ‘You don’t deserve it, but you need it,’ Kaija snapped. ‘Stay in the water. It will take the heat from your burns.’

  The bear had finally fallen, its mighty roar silenced by the spears still stuck into its chest and neck and through its eyes. Over its body, the Ch’lam waved his hands and chanted, giving the bear messages to take with it to the Spirit World. The men, exhausted, muddy and covered in blood, waited to start the butchering. Others put the last of the fires out, smothering some flames in thick hides and using water to douse the smouldering remains of the huts. The air was heavy with the acrid scent of burnt fur, feathers and wood.

  Luuka went to retrieve his spear and knelt by the fallen animal. He laid his hand on the bear’s massive head. He pulled the spears from its eyes and covered them with his hand. ‘Spirit of Bear fought well,’ he said. He bowed his head, weary after the battle.

  Kaija touched her brother’s shoulder gently. Rohk limped forward and sniffed the carcass. He growled low, then whimpered and rubbed against Luuka.

  ‘Rohk, come and I will bathe your wound.’ Kaija examined the wolf ’s injuries. Beside the gash on his flank, one ear had been torn and blood covered his muzzle.

  ‘You would treat an animal before our people?’ one of the men said, scowling.

  Kaija didn’t answer. She simply rose to her feet and gave him a cold, hard stare.

  Children cried, and the women wailed over their injured men. Three of the men had died, killed by the bear during the attack. Others suffered burns and deep wounds.

  ‘Where is your healer?’ Tarin asked a woman holding a screaming child. The child had fallen during the chaos, her hands landing in fire. Tarin scooped the girl up and put her into the water next to Fredik.

  ‘The Ch’lam is our healer,’ the woman said. ‘He is still saying the sacred words over the bear.’

  Kaija snorted. ‘Tarin, can you run for my pack? I need the coltsfoot and golden flower. I’ll make a wash for the burns and some tea to calm everyone. And have you seen my mother? She can help us.’

  But Tarin shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen her,’ he said.

  Kaija clicked her tongue in annoyance. ‘If you see her, tell her we need . . . I need her help.’

  Tarin waved and hurried to get her pack.

  ‘You, girl,’ Kaija motioned to a young girl hovering around the pool. She was unhurt, but it was her sister who had been burnt. ‘Can you set the water to heat? I’ll show you how to make the wash.’

  ‘How can we help you?’ asked one of the two young men who had carried Fredik to the pool.

  ‘We need bandages, for the burns as well as the wounds.’

  The taller of the two sneered. ‘That is women’s work.’

  Kaija rose to her feet and glared up at him. ‘Then it is too difficult for you. Look at your wounded and tell me why I should care what is women’s work and what is men’s work.’

  His companion hit him over the head. ‘We will find bandages.’ And they hurried away.

  ‘The water is hot,’ said the girl. ‘My name . . . it is Dalida.’

  Kaija smiled at her. ‘Then let’s make the wash, Dalida, and bandage these poor men. Can you help me?’

  Dalida smiled shyly and hurried to help.

  Tarin stared around the camp. Slowly, order was being restored. The injured had been treated. The bear was skinned and gutted, the teeth and claws set aside. Some of the meat and fat was already cooking. Despite the loss of their men, the importance of the Bear Festival remained. Bear had returned to the Spirit World, and now the feast would progress. The bulk of the carcass would be packed into the pit oven, covered in hot rocks and a layer of earth, and baked the rest of the night and most of the next day.

  But something was missing. Tarin paced restlessly, Utu fretful on his shoulder.

  Kaija was sitting with Dalida and her family. The youngest girl’s hands were wrapped in rabbit skin bandages and her mother was feeding her blueberries. Rohk was with them, keeping a protective eye on Kaija. Dalida tentatively reached out to touch the wolf, and giggled when Rohk licked her face. Kaija had bathed his wound and wrapped a bandage around his head.

  The Karvkh healer had finished his sacred words and was packing bog moss around Fredik’s wounds. He kept his back turned to Kaija, who gave him many scathing looks.

  Luuka was crouched near the pond, scrubbing blood from his hands. He had helped carry the fallen men into the sacred Bear Cave, there to lie waiting for their burial. He had claimed one of the bear teeth and a couple of claws for his part in the kill.

  ‘I don’t really want it,’ he said. ‘But I will take it to honour Spirit of Bear, and next time I see the Esi, I shall give it to them.’

  Tarin suddenly realised what was wrong. He swung around to where the kotas should be. But there was no sign of them.

  ‘Kaija! Luuka!’ he shouted and started to run. Maybe he was mistaken . . . maybe they had moved the tents away from the fire. Maybe.

  But there was no mistake.

  The reindeer traders and their tents were gone. And so was Nilkka.

  ‘They’re gone!’ Kaija gasped. They stood and stared at the place where the kotas had stood, but all that remained was trodden ground and cold ash.

  ‘We don’t know that for sure,’ Tarin said. ‘They may have moved to a safer place, and be waiting for us.’

  ‘Then . . . we have to follow them,’ Kaija said.

  Luuka grabbed her arm. ‘We will,’ he said. ‘But when it is light.’

  ‘But, Luuka, they could be anywhere by then.’

  ‘Kaija, think. It’s dark now. We are not familiar with the
mountain paths. What if we blunder into another pit?’

  Kaija chewed her lip and stared at her brother with worried eyes.

  ‘They have Nilkka.’ Her voice wobbled. She passed a weary hand over her face. She was so tired after the battle, and the fire, and all the injured bodies.

  Luuka clasped her hands. ‘We will find them. I promise. We both promise.’

  ‘First Light we set out,’ said Tarin. ‘The Bear People can look after themselves. We need to find Nilkka.’

  Rohk sniffed the ground where the tents had been and whined. Then he raised his head and howled – a long, eerie howl that carried over the mountain and down to the river valley. The Bear People stopped what they were doing and looked at the wolf. Twice more, Rohk howled, searching for his sister.

  But there was no answer.

  They were away at First Light. Kaija said farewell to Dalida, and left her with enough crushed herbs to treat her people.

  ‘You can find these in the still ponds near the side of the river, and bear’s claw you will find in the shadows beneath the forest trees. Look for the dark green leaves. They are both good for wounds and burns.’

  Dalida sniffed and nodded. ‘I wish you could stay.’

  Kaija hugged her. ‘I have to find Nilkka. She is Clan to me.’ She looked around the camp, still silent at this early hour. ‘Dalida, make a tea from the pine needles. It is a good tonic. It will help the children with the sores on their faces. If your Ch’lam will allow, talk to him about the healing herbs. Your clan needs another healer, and you could help.’

  ‘I can do that,’ the girl said. ‘I will be a healer like you,

  Kaija.’

  They farewelled Dalida, but none of them bothered taking leave of Fredik. They drank their tea cold, while pulling on outer clothing and hoisting packs onto their backs. A chill rank air hung over the camp, filled with smoke and scorched fur. It looked sad in the early morning light. They were glad to be leaving. They turned their backs on the rock sentinels, and followed the trail downhill to the river ford.

  Summer was gone, Tarin thought. It never lasted long, but overnight it seemed the seasons had turned once more. Or maybe it was the chill he felt deep inside when he thought they may never see Nilkka again. He couldn’t let that happen.

  ‘Why? Why would they take her?’ Kaija asked, over and over. But there was no answer to give her.

  They splashed across the rocky ford and prepared to follow the path they had taken on their approach to the Karvkh settlement.

  ‘Come on, Rohk. This way,’ Tarin called the wolf. Rohk was sniffing a stand of sedge along the riverbank. He whined and yelped and started exploring a path that followed the course of the river.

  ‘Rohk!’ Tarin called again.

  ‘He’s found a scent,’ Luuka said. He watched the wolf thoughtfully. ‘Wolves can follow a scent we can’t smell. Sometimes, they can follow it for days.’

  ‘Nilkka?’ Kaija hardly dared ask.

  Luuka nodded. ‘Maybe.’ He looked around the ford. ‘The ground here is too rocky for tracks, but if they passed this way, Rohk would know. I think we should follow him.’

  The trail followed the river, along the rocky valley. Rohk loped ahead, his nose close to the ground. Sometimes he would lift his head and howl. Once, Tarin thought he heard a faint answer, but as the daylight faded and they looked for a place to camp, they had still found no sign of the traders.

  ‘We need to make a plan,’ Tarin said, when they stopped for the evening. Luuka had caught a couple of perch for dinner and was busy cleaning them. Utu hopped around, dragging bits of intestine away for his own dinner. Tarin was mixing the bear meat and fat Dalida’s mother had given them with the last of their dried berries. He formed them into travelling cakes and wrapped them in sedge leaves as he spoke. ‘We assume the travellers came this way . . .’

  ‘We know they came this way. Rohk told us.’ Luuka threw the cleaned fish to Kaija, who placed them over hot rocks. They sizzled invitingly and Rohk whimpered and licked his lips. Tarin threw him a chunk of bear meat and he snapped it up.

  ‘Even if they’re running from us, they still have to trade.’ Kaija passed a curl of birch bark to Tarin, full of fresh black currants she had picked at their first stop. Autumn was the time the forest was richest with berries, mushrooms and nuts. ‘I think they’ll head back towards the Ungirski.’

  ‘They may.’ Luuka left the rest of the fish to Utu and Rohk to fight over. ‘But I say Rohk is still our best guide.’

  ‘But if they cross too many rivers, Rohk may lose the scent. We have to have a general direction to follow,’ said Tarin.

  ‘Agreed.’ Luuka grabbed the berries off Tarin and emptied them into his mouth. ‘We follow Rohk, but try to head towards the Ungirski when we can.’

  But as one day followed the next, it became clear that Rohk was leading them further north. The forest was thinning, the huge pines giving way to sparser growth of larch and birch. Leaves were changing from soft green to red, brown and gold. They gathered food as they walked, and forced themselves to keep moving while the daylight persisted, but Autumn had come upon them quickly and the nights were falling faster. On the fifth day out from the Karvkh, Tarin woke to a crust of ice around the rocks by the side of the river. It made them think about their supplies and they made the decision to stop for half a day and hunt, although each delay could put more distance between them and the traders.

  Rohk still howled, long into the night, but the only response was from the wild wolves that moved silently through the forest. They also saw foxes, elks and squirrels. The foxes were too fast for them, and the elks too big for just three travellers, a wolf and an owl, but Kaija brought down a plump hazel grouse and a couple of ducks with her sling, and made a thick stew rich with mushrooms.

  They gathered nuts and herbs and picked more berries than they could carry – bilberries, raspberries, lingonberries and red and black currants. The bulrushes and cattails were at their best, and Tarin mixed the pollen heads with a couple of speckled ptarmigan eggs and currants and cooked the cakes over the embers of their fire one night. They also kept a supply of the fluffy flower heads to use as tinder when starting their fires, and Kaija stuffed some in her boots as insulation against the cold.

  Often, they walked without their boots during the day, despite the cooling weather. The river was shallow for the most part, dotted with rocky islands and split into channels. Wading across the fords was easier without footwear, and kept their leggings and boots dry for the cold nights.

  They lost two full days when the rain fell so heavily they couldn’t see their hands in front of their faces, and when they finally emerged from their tent on the third day they were surprised to see how much the river had risen. Trickling fords were now rapids, and the many rocks that had dotted the waterways became hidden dangers.

  Rohk was distressed by the rain, and spent a lot of time circling and sniffing once out of the tent and into the pale sunshine. Clouds still covered the sky, promising more rain to come, but they pushed onward while they could. Rohk rarely left their sides now, even to hunt. Tarin didn’t know whether it was to protect them, or whether the wolf was nervous after his encounter with the cave bear, but either way, it was comforting to see his lean grey figure loping alongside them.

  Now it was Utu who stretched his wings and took to the sky. It was never for very long, and Tarin suspected that the owl’s wing was still weak. He wondered if Utu would always have a weakness that would keep him from truly living wild, but the owl circled high above them, often disappearing to return later looking plump and well fed. Once he brought back a dead rodent and placed it carefully at Tarin’s feet. Tarin thanked him and placed it in the fire to cook, but when the owl wasn’t watching, Kaija quickly flicked it out and gave it to Rohk.

  Another time, Utu arrived silently back at camp and landed on Kaija’s shoulder unexpectedly. The girl squeaked and jumped. She had been concentrating on repairing the lacings around her boots, and
the owl startled her.

  ‘Utu! Don’t do that.’ She glared at the owl, then smiled. ‘You don’t weigh much at all really.’

  ‘He’s all fluff,’ Tarin said. ‘Grey owls look big and fierce, but he’s mostly feathers.’

  Utu preened himself and looked smug.

  It was as they left the forest and river and prepared to strike out across the grasslands that Rohk first lost the scent. He had been distressed for days, ever since the heavy rain, and now ran ahead, or circled around, and didn’t seem as sure which way to go. Light was fading, and Tarin suggested making camp. It had been full moon when they left the Karvkh settlement. Now the new moon had passed, and there was still no sign of the traders.

  It was a subdued dinner that night. No one spoke, and Rohk lay miserably with his chin on his paws. He didn’t want to eat, but Kaija coaxed him to take some plump marmot from her hands. He licked her fingers and sighed deeply.

  ‘If we head south from here, I think we would soon strike the Ungirski,’ Tarin said quietly.

  Luuka looked up from studying the flames. ‘Do you think we should?’

  Tarin shrugged. He didn’t want to give up on Nilkka, but he didn’t know where to go from here. He wished there was someone – Kalle, or Worj, or even Kai – to tell them what to do. But there wasn’t. He rubbed his face and stared up at the sky, tracing the shape of the stars. The stars above him looked like a giant wing. He sent a silent plea to his totem.

  Show us the way, Spirit of Owl. Show us which way to go.

  But Spirit of Owl stayed silent.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, finally. And silence fell once more.

  Utu was gone the next morning when Tarin woke. He wasn’t worried. The owl often stayed out at night now, then slept the day away riding on Tarin’s shoulder. He was growing quickly. By the time Winter was here, he would have his adult feathers. Occasionally he rode with one of the others, and he curled up with Rohk next to the fire when they made camp. His odd clan always made Tarin smile.