“You still have to take Lily.”
“We’ll need more than four dogs. Can I hook up a bigger team, just this time?”
Dad looked thoughtful for a moment. “That’s good logic. With the extra weight you’ll have, you can hook up who you need. Watch Gem—she’s in heat.”
“I know that.”
“Right. Don’t take her—liable to have a fight on your hands. And leave Banjo, too. His attitude’s been down lately. He needs some time off.”
“I noticed that. But I don’t need him, either.”
“Good, then. Do what you think is best. I know you’ll take care of those dogs. I’m impressed you’re running things while your mom and I are so busy lately. You’re doing a great job. Soon as I’m done with this big contract, we’ll all go together again, yeah?”
“Sure. Oh, I’ve got one more question. What are the operating costs for running the dogs?”
Dad blinked at Matt. “Your school project, right? Let’s see, we’ve got vet bills, the sleds and equipment.” He used his fingers coated with slick gray clay to count off. “The gear for the musher—though I suppose you put all that down as assets, right? Stuff we already own. Have you learned about that? Of course you have. So, expenses mainly would be the dog food. Let me think . . . haven’t recorded it—it’s just something that we have to buy. Worth it, though. Can’t put a price on quality of life. Do what you love . . .”
“Love what you do,” Matt responded, as he always did. It was their family’s favorite dog wisdom quote.
“So, with the bags of quality kibble,’ Dad continued, “the packets of vitamins and minerals, the chicken fat, the rice, and the ground meat slabs, I’ll guess it’s about twenty bucks a month per dog.”
He bent his head to his work and started with the clay again. Matt was about to escape when the wheel stopped a second time and his dad asked, “How are your students coming along?”
Matt sighed. “Tubbs can’t figure it out, but Alex seems to know everything already. Like, everything in the world.”
“Ah, yes. Alex. Well, no matter how much you know, somewhere, someone is going to be better than you.”
“But dogsledding is usually what I’m better at.”
“You’re still better at it than she is. She’s only just learning. And you’re maybe a bit less abrasive with others. Everyone likes you. Do you think sometimes it’s more important to be kind to people than to be better?”
Matt nodded and slipped out, thinking about when he’d gotten into that fight with Jacob. The way some of the kids on the bus called him Smokey. Some even laughed and pretended to bump into him in the halls. Matt didn’t tell Dad that people didn’t seem to like him, either.
Eleven
Matt glanced at his notes from the night before, thankful that he had made them now that Alex stood in front of him with her hands on her hips and an expectant look in her eyes. Something about her made him forget what he was going to say.
Foo
Grover
Fester
Tonka
Savage
Atlas
Arrow
Matt looked over the sled tied to the hookup tree. His eyes roamed the long gang line laid out and then surveyed the dog yard. When his gaze landed on Foo, Matt let out a tiny breath. The dog caught his eye and wagged his tail as if he knew what Matt had planned and liked it.
Tubbs peered dubiously over Matt’s shoulder. “Thought we weren’t taking more than four? And why is there a big space there?” He pointed to the empty spot on the sheet where no dog was listed.
“We’re all going together today,” Matt said, on his way to the barn. “One sled. You and I will sit in the basket, and we’ll let Alex run the team.”
Tubbs and Alex followed as Matt talked. He snuck a glance at Alex expecting terror, but he saw only excitement in her eyes.
“It’s good to have an empty space on the gang line, in case we have to move dogs around,” Matt continued. He opened the food bin and noticed with annoyance there weren’t any chicken chunks cut. “Also, we don’t need eight dogs.”
Matt’s chest tightened thinking about running even seven dogs. So much power. Anything could go wrong. He had a moment of doubt about his plan. Should he really take seven?
He slid out a fifty-pound block of frozen ground chicken and ran a hacksaw over the top to mark where it needed to be cut. “So like I said last week, all the positions on the gang line have a job. The leaders will be the smart ones. Foo and Grover always listen to me.” He recalled a certain run to the mailbox—when they had turned around to chase Bandit—and corrected himself. “Except when they don’t.”
“What is that stuff?” Tubbs aimed a finger at the frozen block.
“Dog snacks.” Matt swung the ax, chopping along the lines he’d marked to cut chunks of ground chicken roughly two pounds each. This reminded him that he still needed to figure out all his operating costs.
“Next are the point dogs,” Matt continued as he chopped. “Or they’re sometimes called swing dogs.”
“You’re cutting pieces for all the dogs in the yard,” Tubbs pointed out.
Matt paused and shrugged. “So?”
“That’s twenty-two pieces and they’re all exactly the same size. You didn’t even stop to think about it. If I could do that, it would make me irrationally happy.”
“Everything makes you irrationally happy!”
They grinned at each other.
“I do this all the time, so it’s not that hard,” Matt said. “Anyway, we’ll use Fester and Tonka in point. The dogs you had in lead before.” Matt wasn’t sure about taking Fester, but he didn’t have the heart to leave him behind.
“The insane ones,” Tubbs observed.
“That’s them,” Matt said. “Point dogs are like leaders in training. They watch the lead dogs and learn which way they’re supposed to go when I shout ‘gee’ or ‘haw.’”
Alex nodded and, to Matt’s dismay, took notes on a little pad.
“What are you doing?” Matt asked.
She looked up. “Trying to learn. I plan on becoming a musher at the end of these lessons. I’m going to train my collie at home.”
Of course she was.
“So am I!” Tubbs did a little happy dance, his fascination with the frozen chicken forgotten. He wore coveralls, the new hems from where Matt’s dad had shortened the length hanging over his boots and almost meeting the snow.
Dad had decided to give him the set of coveralls last week, but Matt wasn’t sure if his dad somehow knew about the cuff incident or if it was just a coincidence that he’d cut the pants to fit Tubbs. Matt stared at the cuffs for a moment as an idea hit him. Coveralls could be an operating expense! He just needed to find out how much they cost. He suddenly felt better about his next assignment report. Thank goodness for Tubbs and his cuffs.
“After the point dogs are the team dogs,” Matt continued, as he loaded a burlap sack with seven chicken snacks. “Their only job is to pull. They’re just happy to be there. Savage is in team position.” Matt dumped the rest of the chunks into the storage bin.
“Last are the wheel dogs, closest to the sled. They’re the strongest in the team. Atlas and Arrow are the muscle today.” Matt stuffed the burlap sack into the sled bag. “Okay, let’s harness ’em and go!” Hookup took several minutes, but finally they were ready.
In the chaos of barking and screaming dogs, Matt approached his sister.
“You have to stay here, Lil. There’s no room in the sled.” Matt didn’t want her getting hurt. The best place for her was at home.
“That’s not fair!” she wailed.
“We won’t be long. You clean up the yard, and by the time you’re done, we’ll be back.”
Matt felt only a slight twinge of guilt as he prepared to leave her in the yard. There really wasn’t room in the sled with Tubbs along.
Tubbs wedged himself in first on top of the chicken. Matt jumped in next. When he caught Alex’s expressio
n, he finally saw fear on her face as she stepped onto the runners and looked down the gang line at the long line of dogs leaping and frothing in front of her.
“Ready?” Matt called to the dogs. Foo glanced over his shoulder at him, eyes sparking. Matt could almost hear Foo telling him he was ready and able to lead this long string of dogs. “All right!”
The team whipped out of the yard so fast, it captured Matt’s full attention. This was a powerful team.
Foo and Grover set a blistering pace. All the dogs galloped until Matt told Alex to step on the rubber drag. It forced the team to shift down to a trot.
“This. Is. Awesome!” Alex’s eyes shone.
When they reached the fork in the trail, the path on the left would take them to the mailboxes. But today they were going on a longer run.
“Gee!” Matt called. He proudly watched his leaders swerve to the right and fly down the trail without hesitation.
Atlas started wobbling. When Matt saw his tail rise, he knew what would happen next.
“Tubbs!” Matt yelled. “Keep your mouth closed!”
“What?” Tubbs turned to Matt just as Atlas started to poop. With their speed, the nuggets bounced off the ground and launched toward the boys.
“Augghhhh!” Tubbs put both arms out in front of his face in horror. Then he must have realized that Matt’s advice was wise, because he clamped his mouth shut with a mitten.
Matt had no time to respond as they whipped around a corner. The sled leaned precariously on one runner.
“Lean out!” Matt yelled at Alex, pointing to the left.
Alex leaned her body as if she’d done so a million times. She pulled the sled back onto both runners. Snow flew up behind them.
Alex’s whole face glowed with joy. “Just like skiing!” she yelled. “I’m ranked number one on my ski team.”
Why am I not surprised? thought Matt.
Finally, the dogs started to settle, everyone in trotting mode again.
“What’s wrong with that dog?” Alex asked, pointing.
Matt knew she was talking about Savage.
“Is he limping?” she questioned.
“No, he’s pacing. That’s how he runs normally. His front foot and back foot move at the same time on the same side. Most dogs switch to pacing if they’re getting tired. It’s just a different way of running. That’s how I know it might be time to put them in the basket or take a break. But if Savage starts normal trotting, instead of pacing, then I know he’s getting tired.”
Savage twitched his ears hearing his name but stayed focused on the trail ahead and continued pulling. Matt felt a tightness in his chest watching Savage keep his tug line tight. They were such honest dogs, and they continually amazed Matt with what they could do.
“Wow. So you have to know each dog really well, then.”
“Of course I know my dogs well! That’s what mushers do.”
It took them a record twenty minutes to get all the way to the base camp. Normally it was a thirty-minute run. This was the area where Matt’s family set up their prospector tent for when they wanted to camp overnight. They could go out on different trails from here. The dogs knew this was a rest stop, so they dived into the snow as soon as Matt called a halt. They rolled on their bellies, cooling in the snow, biting mouthfuls. Fester glanced back at Matt, frost covering his muzzle, a contented expression on his face at last. That dog seriously lived for running.
Alex hopped off the runners, leaving the sled as if it were a bike leaning against a tree.
“Wait! The hook!” Panic made Matt flail. He was stuck in the sled. “You forgot—Tubbs, get off me, man!”
He needed to sink the snow hook into the ground before the dogs decided to take off again. Matt fumbled in his hurry to get past Tubbs. Their legs tangled. Tubbs fell sideways onto Matt and they both tumbled out of the sled in a heap. Matt jumped up, grabbed the hook, and stomped on it.
“Never leave the sled without setting the hook!” Matt screamed at a surprised Alex. His blood roared past his ears. “So many dogs! Do you know what could have happened if they had taken off?”
Matt couldn’t stop the visions of the team running without a driver on the brake. Dogs tripping, getting dragged, sprained shoulders, tangles, fights. The dogs trusted him to keep them safe. His fear at what nearly happened turned into anger directed at Alex. She and Tubbs stared at him.
“You think you know how to do everything perfectly with all your note-taking? You could have hurt the dogs! What kind of student does that?”
Alex narrowed her eyes and raised her chin. “I remember everything you’ve said to me, and you’ve certainly never said that before. Rule number one: don’t let go. But you never mentioned rule number two is to always set the hook.” She poked a finger at him. “When students don’t learn, it’s the teacher’s fault. Everyone knows that. There aren’t any bad students, only bad teachers.”
Matt gaped at her with nostrils flared. His heart flipped as her words sank in. He was a bad student and a bad teacher.
The moment was broken by the dogs. As one, they stopped rolling and turned to stare at the trail where it came out from the forest. Their ears perked forward.
And that’s when Bandit broke out of the trees. He flew toward them, tongue out, a satisfied expression on his face as if he’d been tracking the team for a while and was proud he’d found them.
He was pulling an empty sled.
When he spotted Matt, he grinned even wider. Matt threw out his arms to fend off the young dog as he leaped.
“Bandit? What . . . ?” Matt suddenly realized what the empty sled meant. Dread hit him like a snowball.
Lily.
Twelve
“Bandit, what are you doing here?” But Matt knew what the dog was doing there. He thought back to the route they had taken. There were dozens of corners, dozens of places where a musher could have been thrown off. Lily could be at any of them. And she could be hurt.
Foo lay flat, his chin resting on the snow between his paws, his eyes following Matt, as if he could feel Matt’s distress.
“I have to go,” Matt said.
“You’re leaving us here?” Alex asked.
“My sister fell off this sled somewhere. I have to get her.”
“We can come help,” Tubbs said.
“Yes, let us help,” Alex said, their fight suddenly forgotten. She looked as worried as Matt.
“Okay,” Matt said. “But we have to hurry. No time to snack the dogs. Let’s turn the team around.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Matt hooked Bandit into the spare place in the team beside Savage. This wasn’t how Bandit’s first real run with a full team should happen, but at least it was a good spot on the gang line where Matt could keep an eye on him. Not too close to the front or to the sled, where he could be easily scared. And he’d already had his first two runs with Lily. It was a mystery to Matt why she kept choosing Bandit out of all the dogs in the kennel. Why an untrained yearling? It didn’t matter now. He had to find her.
“I’m driving,” Matt said to Alex.
She nodded and climbed into the sled with Tubbs.
“Ready? All right!”
When they took off, Bandit looked around as if he couldn’t believe he was part of the team. Then he felt the pull on his tug line. He put his head down and charged with all the passion of a yearling. Savage glanced at him with a knowing look. The older dogs had the experience to know how to pace themselves. Bandit would learn.
Soon they arrived at a T-intersection where they’d done a hard gee. Lily could have fallen off here. Matt stopped the team and kicked in the snow hook.
“Lily!” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth.
The dogs watched him strangely over their backs. Matt felt their eyes on him, felt their unease at his panic. But he knew they trusted that he would get them out of whatever situation this was.
“Lily!”
They all paused and listened.
Nothing. No
sounds but the chatter of a squirrel and the trees rubbing together in the breeze. Melting snow plopped off branches. Lily was not here. Matt jumped back onto the runners.
“Where is she?” Alex asked, obviously aware of the danger Lily was in. Her eyes met Matt’s and he shook his head.
At the next corner, Matt was sure he’d find Lily lying on the trail, knocked unconscious from hitting a tree. He peered at the solid pines and spruces lining the route. The trees appeared dark and angry, their branches morphing into frowns. She wasn’t here, either.
Each time they stopped, Matt called her name. When there was no response, he imagined worse things. He wasn’t alone.
“What could’ve happened to her?” Tubbs asked.
“What if she dislocated an arm?” Alex said. “Or could she have flown off the sled and broken a leg?”
“I don’t know,” Matt said.
“Maybe she poked an eye out,” Tubbs said, before Alex nudged him quiet.
Matt scanned the sharp willows that grew along the side of the trail. He shuddered to think of his poor sister maimed for life all because he was too busy trying to prove he was better than Alex. He hadn’t watched Lily like he’d said he would. He’d never let her down before. Sometimes he wished his parents didn’t believe in free-range kids. It was too stressful.
The dogs ran faster on the slick trail. Matt kept on the drag to slow them down so Bandit wouldn’t be nervous about the speed. He also needed time to look around.
“Can I help with the team somehow?” Alex asked.
Matt shook his head. “Just be ready to jump out if I ask you to grab a dog. This is a huge team. It’s hard to control them plus look for Lily at the same time.”
Matt didn’t tell her that he’d run this many dogs only with Dad on the runners with him. Why had he made Alex run them? He’d put the dogs in danger and they trusted him to keep them safe. Alex didn’t even know enough to be scared. And why had he left Lily?
Sled Dog School Page 6