The Missing Grizzly Cubs

by Judy Young

  “Look,” Toni said. “You can see it again. But just the top. It looks like it’s floating out there, above those clouds.”

  They sat watching the mountain appear and then disappear, but finally Craig said they’d better get going.

  “We still have a long hike back, plus a long drive.”

  “At least it’s mostly downhill,” Buck stated.

  “And no knife-edges,” Shoop added.

  Buck hurried ahead and was soon in the lead. He recognized where he’d watched the Arctic ground squirrel, and was turning to go down the steep hillside when Craig called out.

  “Wait up a second. Instead of retracing our steps, let’s go back a different way. There’s something I want to show you.”

  Craig went the opposite way around the pile of rocks. They followed him a few minutes up a slight rise and then stopped. Below them the land leveled out into a huge, almost perfectly flat expanse. The short tundra plants that covered the flat made it look as smooth as a blanket pulled over a bed. Another mountain rose sharply to the left.

  “Wow, that’s bigger than ten football fields,” Buck said. “What made it so flat?”

  “A glacier,” Craig said. “Isn’t it cool looking? You can’t see it from up here, but at the far side there’s a sheer cliff that drops off hundreds of feet into a ravine.”

  Following Craig, they made their way down to the flat. They angled across it and started up the steep incline to their left. About halfway up, they stopped climbing and skirted the side of the mountain. It was easy walking now, and Craig let Buck lead the way again.

  A big rockslide edged the side of the short sparse tundra. It wasn’t the loose gravelly rock like on the knife-edge and it wasn’t anywhere near as steep, but large gray-and-black-speckled boulders were jumbled one on top of another down the side of the slope. The rocks were blocklike with flat sides and sharp edges, but among them, Buck saw something that looked out of place. Something the wrong shape and the wrong color, too. Something brown with a rounded edge. Buck moved closer.

  “Cool! Look at this!”

  Shoop instantly turned on the camera as Buck carefully climbed over some rocks and picked something up. When he turned back around to face the others, he held the curved shape of a Dall sheep horn to his head.

  “Wow!”

  “Let me see.”

  “Do you think a grizzly killed it?” Buck asked Craig, handing the horn to Toni.

  “Probably not,” Craig said. “Sheep tend to stay high up on cliff faces where bears can’t get to them. It may have died from disease, old age, or even falling off a cliff. That happens sometimes. If a bear found a dead sheep, it would eat it, but wouldn’t drag it far away. There is no sign of a sheep skeleton here. The horn was probably carried here by a wolf.”

  After everyone got a good look, Buck balanced the horn against a rock so it sat upright. He took a picture with the mountains in the distance and the valley below, showing through the circle of the horn.

  “Lay it back down flat before we leave,” Craig said. “If someone else comes along, they should find it the way it would normally be in nature, just like you did.”

  “Do rangers post where things like this are found so others can come look for them?” Toni asked.

  “No, that would be just asking for trouble,” Craig answered. “All sorts of people would be hiking up here, looking for it.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “A couple of things. First, this spot wouldn’t be so quiet and peaceful. That’s what this park is really all about. All sorts of space. Six million acres of it. Enough for everyone to discover what true wilderness is like for themselves. Not lots of people clumped together all in one spot.”

  “What’s the other thing?” Buck asked as he rejoined them.

  “Telling people where artifacts are may encourage someone to steal them,” Craig said.

  They started walking again. The caribou had all wandered off by the time they could see the big open valley below them. The truck was in sight, but Buck was so tired, he thought he’d never get down the mountain and back through the thick alders. Toni was dragging her feet too. As soon as they got in the truck, she rested her head against the window and shut her eyes. Dad and Craig also looked tired, but Shoop was wide-awake. He sat in the front seat, holding up his hands, his index fingers pointing up and his thumb tips touching, making three sides of a box. He looked through this box from one side of the road to the other, through the front windshield, and, turning in his seat, through the back.

  “What’s he doing?” Buck whispered to his dad.

  “Pretending he’s looking through a camera,” Dad whispered back.

  They had driven up the hairpin turns that led to the Stony Dome overlook and were now going down the other side when Shoop suddenly yelled out.

  “Stop!”

  Craig put on the brakes. Buck, Toni, and Dad all came to attention. Turning around and climbing onto his knees, Shoop leaned awkwardly over the back of the seat and looked out the rear window. “Look at that light. That light is perfect.”

  Everyone turned around. A large bull moose stood in the tundra near the overlook, yet it was easy to see why Shoop was more excited about the light than the moose. The moose’s body blocked the sun, but a glow outlined the shape of the moose. Rays of sunlight coming from the broken clouds seemed to touch each antler point, looking like they radiated from them. The moose put its head down to graze, unconcerned about the truck, and the rays no longer appeared connected to the antlers.

  “We might have one chance,” Shoop said. “And we need to be quick or we’ll lose the light. Toni, get the shotgun from the floor. Slowly, put it out your window. Real slow. You don’t want to spook the animal. I’ll shoot from the opened door. Buck, do you remember what you were going to say if we saw a moose?”

  Buck nodded.

  “Good. I want you to slip out the door on your dad’s side, but don’t close the door. The noise would spook it. Duck down so it can’t see you, and go around the front of the truck. I need you to get between me and the moose. So as soon as you get around the truck and are hidden by my door, drop down and crawl to that rock with the orange lichen. Do you see it?”

  Buck nodded again.

  “The alders should hide you until you’re in the right spot,” Shoop continued. “Then slowly stand up. Keep your back to the moose, your eyes on me, and when I give you the thumbs-up, say your line. Don’t whisper. Just say it in your normal voice. We’ll only have one shot. We have to make it work. Okay?”

  Buck nodded a third time.

  “All right, then, let’s go!”

  Buck scrambled over his dad, slipped out the door, and crept, bent over. He peeked around Shoop’s door. The moose was still there, grazing. Keeping his eyes on the moose, he crawled toward the rock but froze when the moose looked up. The big bull’s ears twitched a couple of times. It took a half step forward but went back to grazing. Buck crept forward again. Even though the lichen-covered rock was only a few feet away, it seemed like miles. He could feel his heart beating rapidly, and he tried to stay calm. He finally reached the rock and looked at Shoop. The camera’s red light was shining. Buck slowly stood up. Shoop cleared his throat. Not loudly but just loud enough. At the same time, he gave Buck a thumbs-up, and Buck rattled off one of the scripts he had practiced.

  “The official state land mammal, the Alaska bull moose is the largest member of the deer family. Its antlers can span more than six feet from end to end.” Then he stretched his arms out wide, like Dad had instructed when he practiced. “He’s ginormous!”

  Buck hadn’t been able to see behind him, but when Shoop had cleared his throat, the moose had lifted its head, the sun had glowed in rays behind its huge antlers, and Buck had been captured on camera, stating his script. As Buck’s arms had stretched out, the moose had trotted off, over the side of the hill, and was gone.

  “Great shot! And just in time,” Shoop said as a green bus drove past the
m. “I caught the light, and I’m pretty sure I missed the bus. How was the audio, Toni?”

  “No go,” Toni said with a sigh, the earphones on her head. She saw the disappointment on everyone’s face. “Sorry. You can hear the bus, but it also sounded like a helicopter or something was in the background.”

  “Helicopter? Here?” Shoop asked.

  “Could have been,” Craig said. “There are a lot of what they call flight-seeing tours over the park. Which way did it go?”

  “I didn’t see it. I just heard it through the earphones,” Toni said.

  “The mic is real sensitive,” Shoop explained. “It can pick up all sorts of things. Not a problem, though. Buck can repeat the line and we’ll do a voice-over, syncing the words with the lip movements. The important thing is that I got the shot and it is fantastic!”

  TAKE 10:

  “A GRIZZLY USES BODY LANGUAGE TO SHOW ITS MOOD. HEAD SWINGING, SWATTING, AND JAW POPPING ARE CLEAR SIGNS OF BEING UPSET.”

  WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 14

  The next morning it was cold and overcast, but Buck and Toni were excited about going to the compass class on their own. Again the backseats were vacant, and Buck headed straight for them.

  “I’m glad Rek isn’t on this one,” Toni told Buck as the bus pulled away.

  “Me too,” Buck said. “I don’t see anyone I recognize. We even have a different bus driver.”

  Just like Jerry had, this driver kept up a running commentary as he drove.

  “Everyone is interested in the big five,” he said. “Grizzlies, moose, caribou, wolves, and Dall sheep. I’m sure we’ll see grizzlies, caribou, and sheep. Maybe even a moose if we’re lucky. Probably not a wolf. They’re rarely sighted. But I’m more interested in the little five: black bears, lynx, red fox, wolverine, and beavers. Actually, thirty-nine different mammals live in the park. We also have ermine, river otters, Arctic ground squirrels, snowshoe hares, hoary marmots, martens, mink, weasels, and pika, not to mention various kinds of shrews, voles, and other rodents, including one kind of mouse, a meadow jumping mouse, and one bat, the little brown bat.”

  From there the driver went on to list birds, then insects, and finally ended the list of animals with the only amphibian, the wood frog.

  “In the winter the wood frog freezes solid. Its heart stops beating, and it doesn’t breathe until spring, when it thaws out.”

  “I feel like a wood frog,” Buck said to Toni. “I’m about to freeze solid.”

  The window just in front of them would not stay shut. The people sitting beside it had tried to shut it, but just a little bump would send it sliding down again, the cold damp air blowing right into Buck’s and Toni’s faces.

  Buck stood up to see if there was another seat open, but the bus was filled. So he pulled his backpack down from the rack and took his jacket from it. He handed Toni her backpack, and she pulled out a jacket, mittens, and a knit hat.

  The driver had moved on to lists of plants, starting with trees. There weren’t too many types, just eight species of spruce, willows, and birch. Then he started up on shrubs and flowers and then on to nonflowering plants. Buck and Toni looked out the window at the passing landscape. Having been up and down the road several times now, they recognized places and saw how Craig and the bus drivers knew where certain animals hung out. The big grizzly boar was spotted in the braided riverbed. Not at the exact spot as the other day but downstream a little ways. Although Denali was now behind clouds, the lone caribou that had stood in front of the mountain was still around. This time, though, it was walking near the road. A few miles farther a big herd grazed, but now the caribou were on the opposite side of the road. The Dall sheep could still be seen on the cliffs across from the Toklat River rest stop, where they had stopped before. Buck still couldn’t lift the antlers to his head, but this time he also went in the gift shop with Toni and they bought some more Beary Bites.

  “Just past this bridge is where the grizzly sow and cubs are,” Buck said after they had left the Toklat rest stop.

  “I know,” Toni said, standing up. “Shoop already has a lot of shots, but I’ll get the camera ready just in case.” She pulled the small camera from her backpack and sat back down.

  As they crossed the bridge, bright orange traffic cones were spaced alongside the road. Sticking out of them were signs like the one Toni had bought for Buck. About every twenty feet they read AREA CLOSED—BEAR DANGER.

  “Those signs weren’t there before,” Buck said.

  “I wonder what’s going on,” Toni said as the bus slowed slightly.

  “There’s recently been a grizzly sow with twin cubs in this area, but they’re evidently having some sort of problem, so we can’t stop,” the driver said. “I’ll go as slowly as possible. You may be able to see them. They’re usually on the left.”

  They drove past three ranger trucks parked beside more orange cones. The rangers were all standing behind their open doors, binoculars balanced on the doorframes. One was Craig.

  Buck looked across the tundra and spotted the sow not too far from where they’d first filmed her and the cubs. Now she wasn’t calmly eating every blueberry in sight. This time she was clearly agitated, pacing back and forth and swinging her head from side to side. She stood up on her hind legs, just like when the dark cub had come up to the truck. She dropped to her feet again, made a short charge in the direction of the rangers’ trucks, and then stopped, whacking at an alder bush with her gigantic paw.

  As they drove on out of sight, voices throughout the bus speculated about what was going on with the bear.

  “Did you see either of the cubs?” Buck asked.

  “No, but I videoed the sow. Too bad we couldn’t get audio.”

  “Shoop better be careful,” Buck said, and smiled. “You might take over his place as best cameraman in the country.”

  “Camerawoman,” Toni corrected him, smiling back.

  The Eielson Center was about fifteen minutes past the Stony Dome overlook. As the bus pulled into the parking area, the driver told the passengers his bus would be at the center for about twenty minutes.

  “Those wanting to take this bus back can leave their things on the bus. But if you want to stay here longer, make sure you take all your belongings with you. You’ll be able to take any other green bus back.”

  Buck and Toni gathered their things, and when they stepped off the bus, a teenager came up to them. She wore an official-looking shirt and name tag.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m K’eyush. You must be Buck and Toni.”

  Buck was not expecting the volunteer to be a girl only a few years older than he was, and missed hearing what she said her name was. He glanced at her name tag, but it was no help.

  “It’s pronounced Kay-yoush,” she said, noticing Buck’s look. “It means ‘bear cub.’ So you and I have something in common, Buck. We’re both named after an animal.”

  “That’s a pretty name,” Toni said.

  “Thank you. You and I have something in common too. Our long black hair and dark eyes,” K’eyush said. Her voice was soft, with a pleasant songlike rhythm. “All things in nature are related in some way. When I meet people, I like to find at least one connection right away.”

  “I was expecting someone older,” Buck said.

  K’eyush laughed. “Craig didn’t tell you? I’m sixteen. I’m here as a student conservationist.”

  “What’s that?” Toni said.

  “It’s a pretty cool program. You get to come to wilderness areas like this and help with different things, like trail maintenance or wildlife habitat programs. I’ve learned a lot about compasses and map reading, so I get to lead the class today.”

  “Wow, that’s totally awesome. I’d like to do that. How do you get to be a student conservationist?” Buck asked.

  “When you get in high school, you can apply,” K’eyush answered. “I’ll give you some information inside.”

  “Inside?” Buck asked, looking around. All that was there was the pa
rking lot, a set of stairs, and tundra plants.

  “The Eielson Center is partially buried in the ground, so you can’t see it from the road,” K’eyush said, “and with tundra actually on the roof, it blends in with the landscape as much as possible. On a clear day the view of Denali is magnificent from here. But obviously that’s not the case today.”

  “Where are they going?” Buck asked, pointing behind him at a steep trail on the other side of the road. A stream of people was on it, some walking up, others coming down.

  “There aren’t many trails in Denali. A few in the front country and two here. That one goes almost straight up to the top of that ridge. And there’s a shorter one down there, in front of the center. It’s more of a nature walk than a trail, but for most people these are the only places they walk around in the park. Unfortunately, only a handful of people actually get off one of the buses and really experience being out in the wilderness.”

  “We have,” Buck said proudly. “Yesterday we hiked with Craig. It was unbelievable.”

  As they walked across the parking lot, down the set of stairs, and onto a patio, Buck told K’eyush about walking through the caribou herd, crawling in a bear den, and finding a sheep horn.

  “Sounds like a great day,” she said as she held the door open for them. “I hope you have fun in my compass class, too. I have some things to do before that, though. Will you two be okay in the center by yourselves for a little while? There will be an announcement when the class starts.”

  “Sure, but I have a question first. What’s going on with the grizzly and cubs that hang out just before Stony Dome?”

  Buck explained what they had seen, but K’eyush had heard nothing about it.

  Buck and Toni wandered around through the Eielson Center. They flipped up little flaps on a display telling about wildlife and then looked at a large round, three-dimensional relief model of the entire park. Snow-covered mountains and glaciers took up more than half of the model. There was a marker that showed where the Eielson Center was, and Buck and Toni tried to figure out where they’d hiked the day before. Then Buck wandered alone over to displays about mountaineers who’d climbed Denali, reading that the first people to ever reach the top did so in 1913.