by Erin Hunter
Chenoa stumbled into her. “What?”
Lusa pointed to a lopsided knot halfway up an aspen trunk. “I bet he was grumpy when he was alive.”
Chenoa followed her gaze, squinting. “Who was?”
“The spirit in that tree,” Lusa whispered. “He’s frowning even now.” She shook out her pelt. “I wouldn’t sleep under his branches. He’d drop leaves on me.”
Chenoa made a face. “He does look a bit like a sore-paw.”
“Hush! He’ll hear us.” Lusa hurried away.
Chenoa paused. “Look at that one!”
Lusa followed her gaze past the low branches of a birch. In the flaky bark, she saw a neat, round knot. “She must have been beautiful when she was alive.”
“Ew!” Chenoa’s gaze flicked to the next tree. “She wasn’t!” A lumpy old knot stuck out from the bark.
“Be quiet!” Lusa hissed. “You’re going to get us into trouble.”
Chenoa waded through the quillwort. “Where are your family spirits?”
Lusa hurried after her. “My family is still alive.” Her belly ached with a small twinge of longing. “At least, I think they are. They’re back in the Bear Bowl.”
Chenoa halted. “What’s that?”
“It’s where I lived before I escaped into the forest.”
“Escaped?”
“The Bear Bowl is a special place where bears are looked after by flat-faces.”
Chenoa blinked. “That sounds terrible!”
Lusa shook her head. “It was okay. They gave us food, and the Bear Bowl was pretty nice, and new flat-faces came every day.”
“Why?”
Lusa tipped her head. “I don’t know. They just stared at us. Sometimes they gave us fruit.” She licked her lips, remembering.
“And you ate it?” Chenoa began pacing around Lusa, the fur pricking along her spine. “Did you trust them?”
“Why not?” Lusa started to feel defensive. “They never hurt us. They just looked at us.”
“Flat-faces are strange,” Chenoa decided.
“I guess,” Lusa agreed. “But they gave us everything we needed. We were safe. There weren’t BlackPaths or mean old bears like Hak—” She stopped when she saw Chenoa’s eyes narrow. “There were a few grumpy bears, of course. But they never attacked anyone.”
Chenoa searched Lusa’s gaze. “Do you miss it?”
Lusa frowned. Her life there seemed so long ago. She’d traveled farther than she’d ever dreamed since then. “Sometimes. But I’m happier now.”
“Do you ever wish you could go back?”
“Why would I? I’m a wild bear now, like you. Would you want to live in a Bear Bowl?”
“No!”
White petals fluttered at the corner of Lusa’s eyes. When she turned, she saw it was a butterfly. Scampering after it, she swiped the air.
Chenoa chased after her. “I bet I can catch it.” As the butterfly jerked upward, she jumped and clapped her paws together.
“You missed!” Lusa watched the white wings flicker away through the branches. “Look, buds!” A green haze enfolded the tree. “There’ll be blossoms soon.”
Chenoa nudged Lusa. “And berries!” She bounded up a rise in the leafy forest floor. At the top, the leaves on a bush shivered as Chenoa stopped beside it. “Muskroot!” She sniffed at the leaves. “This’ll have berries.”
Lusa hurried to look. White flowers peeped out among the leaves. “Will they be eating-berries?”
“Oh, yes. They’re delicious.”
Lusa heard the rippling of a stream and saw water sparkling between the trees. She scrambled down the far side of the rise. A fallen tree blocked her way, but she scrabbled onto it.
“Careful!” Chenoa warned, catching up. “You don’t want to open your wounds again.”
Lusa had forgotten the wolverine bites. She stopped on top of the log. “I’m okay,” she promised, but she slithered carefully down the other side.
Chenoa hopped over it easily and raced past Lusa. She splashed into the stream and let the bright water wash her paws. “Come on. It feels great!”
Lusa was already sliding down the bank. The water was cool, and the streambed was soft and sandy. Lusa stood and let her claws sink in as she leaned down to lap the cool water. After the heavy pull of the river, the gentle stream felt soothing.
Chenoa stared into the water, then frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Lusa shook water from her snout.
Chenoa shrugged. “Nothing but minnows.” She sighed. “Not worth catching.”
Lusa hopped onto the bank, suddenly realizing she was hungry. “Let’s find the others. They might have caught something.”
They found Toklo, Kallik, and Yakone dozing, round-bellied, in the shade beside the hollow. The smell of fresh-killed prey swirled around them. Yakone’s muzzle was stained with blood.
Toklo half opened an eye. “We were wondering where you were.”
Lusa nudged him with a paw. “Were you?”
“I knew you’d be safe with Chenoa.” He burped lazily and waved a paw toward the hollow. “We saved you a wood duck.”
Lusa’s mouth watered when she saw the juicy bird. She didn’t eat a lot of meat when she had other choices, but this was one of her favorites. “Thanks.” She crouched beside it and tore off a piece for Chenoa.
“I love duck.” Chenoa scooped it up and chewed happily.
Lusa took a bite. It felt good to have a black bear to travel with. Now, when she thought of reaching the mountains, she didn’t get the same fluttery feeling in her belly. Toklo will be happy to be home, Kallik and Yakone can go back to the ice, and I’ll have Chenoa. She watched her new friend munching. She’ll stay with me, won’t she? Lusa swallowed, vowing to be the best friend Chenoa ever had. Then she’ll never want to leave.
Yakone sat up. “Are we traveling today?” He looked up through the branches. The sun was already sliding down toward the horizon.
Kallik rolled onto her back. “Perhaps we should have a day’s rest to give Lusa a chance to heal.”
“I’m feeling a lot better,” Lusa told her.
Kallik’s eyes slowly shut. “I’m glad.” A moment later, she was snoring, her full belly moving gently with each breath.
Toklo yawned. “I guess we’re staying here another night.”
Lusa’s paws itched. It was comfortable here, but she felt she’d held them up long enough. Shouldn’t they be moving on? She finished her piece of duck and glanced up at Chenoa.
The she-bear was rubbing feathers from her muzzle. “What’s up?”
Lusa looked around at her sleeping companions. “I’ve had enough rest,” she whispered.
“Let’s leave these lazy old possums to sleep.” Chenoa got to her paws. “We can ride the fast currents.”
Lusa swallowed. Ride the fast currents! Did that mean swimming in the middle of the river? She hadn’t been deeper than the shallows yet. She looked past the trees at the rushing water.
Chenoa headed toward the shore. “Don’t worry. You’ll love it.”
Lusa trotted after her. She felt less confident as Chenoa waded deeper and deeper into the river. When the water lapped her shoulders, Lusa paused. “Chenoa?”
Chenoa glanced back. “What?”
“It’s a bit deep.” Lusa could already feel the current tugging her paws.
“Don’t worry!” Chenoa ducked underwater and vanished, leaving a trail of bubbles on the surface.
Lusa stared at the foaming waves. What was Chenoa doing?
A moment later, the black bear bobbed up. Her shoulders pumped as she churned the water with her paws. She was clearly at home in the swollen river and swimming easily in the current. “I see some rocks you can stand on while I teach you.”
Lusa scanned the surging water. She couldn’t see any rocks. “I can’t—” Before she could object, Chenoa nudged her forward. Lusa scrambled to keep her footing as the water snatched her and dragged her downstream.
Chenoa
grabbed her scruff. “Reach with your paws,” she puffed through Lusa’s pelt.
Lusa flapped her paws, feeling the drag of the current, relieved as her claws hit rocks jutting up from the riverbed. “Found them!”
Chenoa paddled hard and kept her grip on Lusa’s scruff while Lusa found a pawhold.
“Ready!” Lusa planted herself firmly, and Chenoa let go.
Lusa braced herself against the current. It buffeted her legs and dragged at her fur.
“Watch me!” Chenoa let the swirling water grab her.
Lusa gasped as the river swept the other bear downstream, fast as a leaf. Powerful eddies swirled Chenoa this way and that until she flipped over and began to swim back to Lusa. “Try it!”
Lusa swallowed. “How do I stop?” What if the currents carried her all the way back to the Melting Sea?
Chenoa pointed her nose along the fast-moving channel. “Do you see where the fast water turns to slow water?”
Lusa narrowed her eyes. The frothing channel Chenoa had ridden was edged by smoother waves. “I see!”
“Swim toward the slow water when you want to stop.” Chenoa nudged Lusa off the rock. “I’ll keep up with you!”
Lusa hardly heard Chenoa’s words. A blast of water shot her downstream. Her legs swept beneath her, held stiff by the current. Water rushed up her nose. “Help!” She fought to stay upright, but the river twirled her around, dunking her snout beneath the waves. She splashed out blindly. “Chenoa!”
A black shape surfaced beside her. Lusa pushed against the current and reached out a paw, thankful to feel Chenoa’s warm pelt. She grabbed it. Relief swamped her as she felt Chenoa’s steady paddling.
“Relax!” Chenoa shouted above the rumble of the water.
Lusa forced her stiff legs to move with the flow. Suddenly the water seemed to cradle her instead of fighting her. It carried her so smoothly that Lusa relaxed even more. The sensation of floating at the same speed as the river was breathtaking. This is how eagles must feel when they soar. Tentatively, she loosened her grip on Chenoa and floated free. Sticking out her paws, she lay on her back and let the river weave her around eddies and swoop her up and down, through waves and troughs.
“Come on!” Chenoa held out a paw and guided Lusa toward smooth water.
Released from the current, Lusa slowed and began swimming, her legs churning beneath her. “That was great!”
“Let’s swim back and do it again!” Chenoa turned and headed upstream. Excited, Lusa splashed after her.
By the time they’d reached the start, Toklo was standing on the shore. Lusa swam for the shallows till her paws hit the riverbed. Standing up, she called to Toklo, “We’re river riding!”
“What?” Toklo padded to the water’s edge.
Chenoa bounded out to meet him. “Come and play!”
Toklo followed her into the water, frowning. “What’s river riding?”
Lusa splashed back toward the racing currents. “You’ll love it. Chenoa taught me.” She swam through the smooth water to the edge of the rapids. Chenoa and Toklo caught up.
“Do you see the fast current?” Chenoa pointed out the frothing channel to Toklo.
“You swim in that?” Toklo looked uncertain.
“You don’t have to swim!” Lusa spluttered as she swallowed a mouthful of river water.
Chenoa puffed a warning at her. “Careful, Lusa. Don’t forget the river’s way bigger than us, and it doesn’t care if you sink or swim.”
Lusa spat out the water, undaunted. “Can we try a faster channel?” She looked beyond the one they’d already ridden. Another current swept even more swiftly beyond it.
“Let Toklo try this one first.” Chenoa nudged the brown bear forward. “I know you’re a good swimmer, Toklo, but it’s easier if you don’t try to swim at all. The river thinks it’s fighting you and makes it hard. Just trust the water to carry you.”
Toklo blinked at her, water washing around his scruff. “You mean float?”
“Exactly!” Chenoa flicked her snout, drops spraying from her muzzle.
With a grunt, Toklo launched himself into the fast-moving stream. The current snatched him away. With a yelp of surprise, he was swept downstream.
Lusa watched his paws flail. “Will he be okay?” Alarm flashed though her as she watched him struggle against the current. Then she saw his head rise above the frothing waves. He stopped floundering and slid fast over the water.
“He’s got it!” Chenoa huffed as Toklo sailed smoothly away.
“My turn!” Lusa dove forward, through the fast channel and beyond. The river snatched her and dragged her downstream, so fast that she gasped.
“Lusa!” Chenoa’s shout alarmed her. It was edged with panic.
Lusa jerked her head around, fighting the current. Was Chenoa all right? She glimpsed a wide yellow shape at the corner of her vision.
“Rafts!” Chenoa bellowed.
Lusa twisted, fighting the current to see behind her. Huge yellow shapes were racing across the top of the water. Flat-faces peered over the sides, bundled up in colorful pelts. They were dipping broad-ended sticks in and out of the water, steering the yellow rafts. One of them was heading straight toward her.
Lusa floundered, struggling to escape the channel. Paws churning wildly, she pushed for smoother water, but the current was ferocious. She couldn’t break free. The raft was gaining on her.
“Toklo!” Chenoa’s roar sounded faint through the rumbling of the river.
Lusa’s heart pounded in her ears. The raft bore down on her till all she could see was water and yellow. Terrified, she took a gulp of air and dove underwater. The raft thumped her spine as she pulled herself down. She spun, dazed. Water rushed up her nose and into her mouth. It filled her ears and dragged at her fur. Lusa struggled for the surface, but it had disappeared in a storm of bubbles.
Her lungs ached for air. River spirits, help me!
Strong teeth pinched her scruff. Firm claws snagged her pelt. She felt fur swirl softly against hers. She let herself fall limp. In a moment she was above the surface as stout paws pushed her through the churning channels into smooth water. Ujurak?
“Lusa!” Toklo’s growl sounded in her ear. “Are you okay?”
Lusa blinked water from her eyes. Chenoa and Toklo were bobbing around her, their gazes anxious. Slowly she began to stroke her paws through the water, swimming gently, relieved by the smoothness of the water washing around her. Chenoa let her go, then Toklo.
“Thanks,” Lusa gasped.
“I thought the flat-faces had drowned you!” Toklo’s eyes were round with horror.
Lusa gazed downriver, feeling dizzy. The yellow rafts were bobbing away over the rapids. The flat-faces stared back, openmouthed as the river washed them downstream.
“Come on.” Chenoa nudged Lusa toward the shore.
Lusa paddled in, relieved as her paws scraped pebbles. She waded from the river and shook out her pelt. Toklo circled her anxiously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“She’s fine.” Chenoa nosed him away. “It was an adventure, wasn’t it, Lusa?”
Lusa looked into Chenoa’s sparkling gaze. It hadn’t felt like an adventure when she’d been fighting for her life. But now that she thought back, it did seem exciting. She’d been out in the rapids and escaped a flat-face raft. The exhilaration of being swept along by the current sent a fiery tingle through her paws.
Toklo pushed past Chenoa. “She won’t be doing it again.”
“Doing what again?” Kallik’s call surprised Lusa. The white bear was hurrying along the beach toward them, Yakone at her heels. “You look half-drowned. What’s happened?”
“Lusa just escaped a flat-face raft,” Chenoa told her proudly.
“What?” Kallik stopped beside Lusa and sniffed her. “Are you hurt?”
Lusa realized that her wolverine bites were throbbing. Had she grazed them on the riverbed when the river had tossed her around? “I’m okay,” she reassured Kallik. She didn�
�t want to be fussed over.
But Kallik was already hustling her toward the trees. “Let’s get you tucked in your nest.” She growled under her breath. “There are too many flat-faces around here.”
“I’m fine,” Lusa insisted.
“She’s been riding the river,” Chenoa announced.
Kallik paused. “Doing what?”
Toklo nudged Lusa on. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “She’s safe, and she won’t be doing it again.”
“Why not?” Chenoa sounded offended as Kallik led them through the bracken. “She was a natural. And I was there to look after her.” She touched Lusa’s head with her snout. “I won’t let you get washed away, little one.”
Lusa shook her off. “I’m not little!” she snapped.
Kallik scrambled down into the sleeping hollow and started brushing pine needles to make a nest for Lusa. “Snuggle down here before you get cold,” she ordered.
Lusa met her gaze, ready to argue. She didn’t need to be treated like a cub! But tiredness pulled at her paws. Her fur felt heavy and her wound throbbed. “Okay.” Sighing, she slid into the nest that Kallik had made. She looked up at Chenoa. “I don’t always need rescuing,” she told her firmly. Chenoa had saved her from the wolverines, and now she’d helped save her from drowning. “I’ve traveled a long way.”
Chenoa’s gaze grew serious. “I know, Lusa.” The young she-bear padded down into the hollow and curled around Lusa. “You’re way braver and stronger than I’ll ever be. You’ve seen more things than I could imagine.”
Lusa nestled into the warmth of Chenoa’s thick pelt. “I have, haven’t I?” she murmured, closing her eyes. She rested her muzzle on Chenoa’s flank. How much more was she going to see before the journey was over? And when it was, what would happen next? With her thoughts growing hazy with exhaustion, she let herself drift into sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN