by Erin Hunter
“Crazy old furlump,” Yogi said, coming up behind her. “I’m glad she’s gone.”
“Well, I’m not,” Lusa said. “Oka wasn’t crazy. She just had a lot of bad things happen to her.”
“Pffft,” Yogi grunted. “Maybe now you’ll forget all this stupid talk about the wild and come play with me instead.”
“Yogi, some things are more important than playing,” Lusa said, trying to sound grown-up.
“Like what?” Yogi looked at her as if he thought she might be as crazy as Oka. “Sticking your nose in the clouds and dreaming of places you’ll never go?”
“But I will go there!” Lusa blurted. “I promised Oka. I’m going to leave the Bear Bowl and go into the wild to find her lost cub, Toklo.”
Yogi snorted. “That’s very funny, Lusa! I’d like to see that—baby Lusa in the wild on her own!”
“Why not?” Lusa cried. “I could take care of myself! And I’m going to find Toklo and help take care of him, too! You’ll see!”
Yogi stared at her. “You’re serious,” he said. “Wow, I didn’t know that bear’s craziness was catching. Hey, Stella!”
The she-bear got up from her basking place by the tree and ambled over. “Sorry about your friend, Lusa,” she said, nudging the cub with her muzzle.
Yogi interrupted before Lusa could speak. “Lusa’s going to escape the Bear Bowl! Ha! Can’t you see it? Lusa wandering the forest by herself. Lusa climbing wild trees. Lusa chasing berries! Ha!” He rolled on his back, making loud grunts of laughter.
“Shut up!” Lusa growled at him. “It’s not funny!”
“What’s going on?” Ashia asked, coming out of the den.
“Lusa’s going into the wild!” Yogi cried. “She thinks she can survive on her own. You can’t dance for your food in the wild, Lusa!”
“Your father was right, dear,” Ashia said softly. “This is what comes of listening to crazy stories. That wild bear has filled your head with cloudfluff.”
“It’s not cloudfluff!” Lusa insisted. She turned her back on the other bears and ran over to the Bear Tree. She scrambled up it quickly, digging in with her claws, until she was at the very top. Perhaps from here she’d be able to see a way out of the Bowl. At least up here she could forget about the others, telling her she’d never go to the wild, never find Toklo, never keep her promise to Oka.
Lusa stayed up in the tree all day. She stared at the paths that wound around the Bowl and the other cages nearby. She wished she could see farther, to the high Fence that ran around everything, so she could figure out how to reach it. Nothing she saw from the tree gave her any ideas about how to escape—she knew she couldn’t climb out of the Bowl, and the Fences and walls were all too strong and solid to knock down. Finally, as dusk was falling, she heard her mother calling from the bottom of the tree.
“Lusa! Time to eat!”
Her stomach was growling. She hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning. As much as she didn’t want to face the other black bears, she was too hungry to stay in the tree any longer.
Lusa clambered back down to the ground. Ashia was waiting for her with a pawful of blueberries and a sympathetic look in her eyes.
“Thanks,” Lusa muttered, lapping up the blueberries with her tongue. The burst of sweetness in her mouth made her feel a little better.
“I understand that you’re upset,” Ashia said. “It’s never easy to lose a friend, and what happened yesterday was very shocking. I’m sure that right now it seems like the outside world would be a better place to live, but believe me, it isn’t.”
“That’s not the point,” Lusa said. “I promised Oka I’d find her lost cub.”
Ashia shook her head. “You don’t know how big the world is,” she said. “It would be impossible for two cubs to find each other. And besides, there’s no way out of here.” She stretched out her muzzle and pointed with her nose at the Fences on all sides of them.
“I know,” Lusa said, “but black bears are the best climbers in the forest. There must be a way out.”
Ashia sighed. “Please don’t say anything to your father about this berry-brained idea, Lusa. It would only make him angry.”
After eating, Lusa went looking for King. If he was the only one who didn’t know about her plans to escape, perhaps she could get some information out of him. The bulky black bear was sitting by one of the boulders, tearing an apple apart with his claws. Lusa padded up to him and sat down. She had to think of a way to ask him questions without giving away her plan. She scratched her ear until an idea occurred to her.
“I don’t see how it can be that hard to live in the wild,” she began. “I mean, doesn’t food grow on trees and bushes out there? It’s just everywhere, isn’t it?”
King grunted. “It’s harder than you can possibly imagine. Even if you do find food, you have to be careful about where you take it from—and who might be angry if you do.”
“What do you mean?”
Her father jerked his head toward the Bear Tree. “Have you ever looked carefully at the bark on that tree?”
Lusa shook her head. King stood up and lumbered over to it. “See here,” he said, rising onto his hind legs and patting the trunk with his front paws. “These scratches right here.”
Sure enough, there were deep gouges in the bark of the tree, right where her father’s paws reached. Lusa was surprised she hadn’t noticed them before. She must have been too busy climbing.
“If you saw scratches like this in the wild,” King said, “you’d have to be very careful, because it would mean you’d entered the territory of an adult black bear. A bear that won’t take kindly to a cub stealing his food.”
“Oh,” Lusa said.
“And of course there are grizzlies. A brown bear would snap you up in a heartbeat, as if you were just a hare or a caterpillar. I’m telling you, there’s danger around every bush in the wild. It’s no place for a soft cub like you.”
“How do wild black bear cubs survive?” Lusa asked, hoping he wouldn’t get cross and storm off again.
King rumbled deep in his throat. “There is one thing you can do that a brown bear can’t: Climb trees. Look at your claws.”
Lusa lifted one of her front paws and examined it.
“See how your claws are curved? A brown bear’s claws are straight. They’re made for digging, not climbing. Cubs in the wild stay near trees and use them to escape from danger. But that doesn’t mean it’s safe for them. They spend half their time racing up trees at the smallest noise. No bear wants to live like that.”
Stella, resting on her back on the other side of the tree, chimed in. “Trees can give you food, too,” she said. “The best food of all is honey, and it comes from a Buzzy Tree.”
“What would you know about it?” King scoffed.
“I’ve heard stories!” Stella protested. “The tree buzzes and buzzes and stings you to keep you away, but if you keep trying, you can dig out the most delicious, sweet stuff, even better than blueberries.”
King snorted and turned to walk away.
“Wait,” Lusa said. “I want to know more.”
“What’s the point?” King snarled. “You’ll never see a Buzzy Tree, or taste honey, or have to escape from a grizzly. And you should be glad of it!”
He stomped off to his corner again. Lusa sighed. Now he’d be too grumpy to talk about the wild for ages. But at least she’d learned a few things.
For the next couple of days, Lusa lurked around the door in the wall of the Bowl. It was the only way she knew that led out of the enclosure, and if she could slip through when it opened, she might be able to make a run for it.
“What are you doing?” Yogi whined, poking her with his nose. “Come play with me.”
“No,” Lusa said, keeping her eyes on the door.
“You’re not still planning to escape, are you? Are you going to fly over the wall like a bird?”
Lusa ignored him. Yogi circled her, looking worried. “You’re really goin
g to try, aren’t you?” he said. “How? What are you going to do?”
“Like I would tell you!” Lusa snapped.
“Maybe I can help,” he offered.
“Ha,” she said. “I don’t need your help.”
He skulked away, pawing at pebbles in the dirt.
Suddenly Lusa heard the familiar clang of the door. She braced herself, rocking back on her paws. The door slowly swung open, and she could see one of the feeders coming through. A little bit farther…a little bit farther…now!
Lusa sprang. She dug her paws into the ground and raced forward, aiming for the space that was opening up.
All at once a sharp pain jolted through her bones. Shocked, Lusa leaped back and saw that the feeder was holding a long stick. He poked it at her again, but this time she scrambled back before it could sting her. She retreated to a safe distance and watched the feeder come in and close the door behind him.
She sat down, scraping her claws in the earth. She was disappointed and puzzled. The stick hadn’t shot something into her, like the one the feeders had used on Ashia and Oka, and she didn’t feel sleepy, but it had hurt. Frustrated, she dug her claws through the dirt. If the only way out of this enclosure was that door, then she would have to find a different way of getting through it.
The next morning, Lusa lay down under the tree and didn’t get up for the whole day. When Ashia tried to bring her food, Lusa pushed it away and pawed at her stomach with a whine. She remembered exactly how her mother had acted when she was sick. Whimpering, she pressed her paws to her muzzle and closed her eyes.
Ashia and Stella hovered around her all day, trying to take care of her. Lusa felt bad about lying to them, but she remembered her promise to Oka. Ashia and Stella had each other, but if Toklo was still alive, he had no one.
That night she slept out in the open, even though the cold wind made her shiver and there were lots of strange noises from outside the walls. The sky was cloudy so she couldn’t see the Bear Watcher, which made her anxious. Was he still watching her? Would he take care of her if she made it to the wild?
When she still hadn’t eaten anything by the end of the next day, the other bears started to get worried. Yogi came over and nudged her.
“Get up, Lusa,” he said. “I’m sorry I teased you. Come play on the Mountains with me.”
“I don’t feel well,” Lusa mumbled. It was starting to be true; she was so hungry, she felt like her stomach was going to cave in and eat itself.
At long last, the door in the wall creaked open and a pair of flat-faces came through. They looked at Lusa carefully, probing her fur and shining a light in her ears. The feeder in green with the furry face came in behind them, and Lusa tensed. What if the stick put her to sleep and she never woke up again? She had to force herself not to jump up and run back to the Caves. She closed her eyes as the feeder got closer and closer. She thought about Oka and Toklo, and how much he needed her. She had to be brave.
There was a soft pop, and Lusa felt a sharp tickle in her side. She opened her eyes and saw her mother watching from the Mountains. Lusa lifted her paw in farewell, and then let it drop as a strange heaviness filled her body. Her eyes drifted shut again, and she tumbled into darkness.
Lusa dreamed she was floating down the Great Salmon River. Sparkling water flowed around her and through her fur, but she didn’t feel wet. In the bubbles she caught glimpses of large silver blueberries flashing past, but when she tried to catch them, they slipped out of her paws. Although the river glittered with light, when she looked up she could see the night sky, full of more stars than she’d ever seen before.
In among the stars there were strange animals. Some of them Lusa recognized: a monkey, a flamingo, a tiger. Then there were ones she had never seen before—the long-necked skinny creature and the big one with the long dangly nose that her mother had described. They bobbed their heads at her and danced from side to side.
Lusa tried to move her paws, but they were too heavy. She started to panic. Lifting her muzzle to the stars, she called out for help…and then she saw the Bear Watcher. It was shining brightly right above her. The star beamed down at her, and Lusa gazed back. It seemed like it was getting bigger, as if it were coming closer and closer to her. Maybe she was dead, and it was coming to turn her into a tree.
Gradually Lusa realized that her eyes were open and she wasn’t dreaming anymore. She was staring up at a warm yellow fire-globe dangling from the roof of a flat-face den. The floor under her was cold and hard, and she was inside a cage of metal bars. She pushed herself to her paws. She felt groggy and slow—her fur heavier than usual, her muscles floppy. She was alone, in a large den full of silvery, shiny things. She couldn’t smell any flat-faces nearby. She couldn’t see the sky, but something inside her told her that it was nighttime outside, which meant she had slept the entire day.
Lusa sniffed around the edges of the cage until she found the door, where there was a short piece of metal sticking out. Did this make the door open? She prodded at it with her paws, hooking her claws around it and waggling it. Then she tried sticking her nose through the bars and closing her teeth around the bit that stuck out. The cold metal smelled bad and it made her teeth hurt, but she felt something sliding loose. She poked it again with her paws.
There was a small clang and the door swung open. Lusa stared in astonishment. She was free!
She took a tentative step outside the cage. The shiny white floor was smooth like water below her paws. Her paws dragged on the slippery floor and her legs felt heavy as stones, but she managed to stagger over to the tall door in the nearest wall. She had no idea how to get through it. She didn’t want to wait for a flat-face to come along and open it…. She could try to run for it again, but the pain from the shocking stick was fresh in her mind.
Lusa looked around the room for something that might help her open the door. A fresh breeze drifted past her nostrils, carrying the scent of wild animals and burnt flat-face food. She stood on her hind legs, searching for the source of the smell, and spotted an opening high in the wall at the far end of the room. She slithered across the floor and heaved herself up on a shiny ledge the color of the buckets the feeders brought their food in. Her claws lost their grip on the slippery surface, and her back end slid off the ledge. She hung for a moment, scrabbling with her forepaws, and then, with a grunt, she dragged herself back on top once more.
As she cleared the edge, one of her back paws hit a stack of objects. They toppled to the floor with a crash that sounded like an entire forest falling over. More desperate now, Lusa shoved her head through the opening. It was a tight squeeze, but she managed to pull her shoulders and paws, and finally her rear end, through the small space. She felt herself falling through the air and wondered for a terrified moment what was below her. Then her paws hit the springy branches of a leafy bush, and she bounced off it and tumbled to the ground unharmed.
She scrambled to her paws and raced into the nearest patch of shadows. She remembered her mother talking about the high Fence that surrounded all the animals’ Fences. She also remembered Ashia telling her about how quietly black bears could move. Lusa dropped into the stealthy crouch her mother had shown her and crept through the shadows, watching where she placed her paws.
Excitement and fear tingled through her fur and her muzzle quivered. There were so many new smells out here! Not only that; now she could hear the grunts and snores of other animals coming from behind their Fences. She could also hear the distant noises of the flat-face world and smell a faraway scent of flowers. Her ears and her nose were more useful than her eyes in the dark, so she let her vision blur and concentrated on what she could hear and smell instead.
Two flat-faces were coming along the path. They were moving fairly quietly, for flat-faces, but Lusa’s ears picked up the low murmur of their voices and the rhythmic beat of their pawsteps. She ducked behind a large metal den that smelled of rotten food. Some of the scents were tempting…. Her stomach was roaring with hunger. Bu
t this wasn’t the time to go foraging.
The flat-faces walked by without seeing her. When they were out of sight, Lusa ran along the side of the gray path, keeping to the grass so her claws didn’t tap on the hard stone, until she spotted the high Fence. Beyond it she could see the outline of flat-face dens, lit up by their fire-globes. A wide path stretched along the other side of the Fence, and more paths branched off from it, leading between the dens.
Glancing around, Lusa sniffed the air. With so many flat-face smells here, it took her a moment to be sure that none were close by or heading her way. She paced over to the fence, hooked her claws in the metal web, and began to climb.
As she pushed herself up, she thought of the bears she had left in the Bowl. She would probably never see them again—never roll around the Mountains with Yogi or pretend to stalk through the wild with Ashia or listen to one of Stella’s stories. She wouldn’t even hear Grumps roll around growling on his side of the Fence. Her heart thudded and her legs began to tremble, so that she had to tighten her grip on the Fence to keep herself from falling off. She was leaving her family, her best friends, everything she knew, for the sake of a promise made to a bear she had only just met.
Then she thought about Toklo, somewhere beyond the mountain and the three lakes and the dead forest that Oka had described. She imagined him wandering alone, convinced that his mother hated him. She thought of Oka’s dying words, and she knew she would do everything she could to keep her promise.
She reached the top of the Fence just as the clouds parted, and when she looked up at the sky, there was the comforting shimmer of the Bear Watcher. Her family would never have a grand adventure like this—they would be surrounded by the same walls, the same trees, the same “mountains” for the rest of their lives. But she was going to see something amazing. She was going to discover the world.