Great Bear Lake (6 page)

“Toklo, do you think there will be salmon in the river?” Ujurak asked.

“Might be.” Toklo still sounded grumpy. “If there are, just stay out of the way till I catch one.”

Lusa's belly rumbled at the mention of salmon. The last proper meal they had eaten had been a muskrat Toklo had caught in the mountains. Apart from that, on the bleak mountain ridge, they had survived on berries and insects grubbed up from the ground. Lusa had never tasted salmon, but Oka had told her how delicious it was, back in the Bear Bowl. Even better than blueberries, the grizzly had said.

The sun was sinking, casting long shadows across the water, when they came to the river. Curiosity attacked Lusa like a tormenting fly as she realized that the path divided again, going along the bank in both directions.

“Ujurak, can I try reading the signs?” she begged. “Please!”

Toklo shook his head and padded off to stand at the very edge of the river and peer down into the eddying water. Ujurak touched his muzzle to Lusa's. “Try.”

Lusa paced forward to stand where the track divided. She stood, still and alert, looking up and down the stream. Upstream the track looked boggy and overgrown. Here
and there the bank had crumbled into the river, and bushes stretched out their thorny branches, barring the way.

Downstream was no better. The track was firm and dry, but there was little undergrowth to provide cover. Lusa remembered how terrified she had been when the wolves were chasing her and there were no trees to climb. Now that they were off the mountain, they should be safer, but this path still looked too open.

Lusa couldn't see anything that suggested to her that one way was better than another.
What am I supposed to be looking for?
she wondered, with an uncertain glance at Ujurak.

The brown cub nodded encouragingly. “The answers are there. Just look.”

Briefly Lusa closed her eyes, imagining that she could see the Bear Watcher shining down on her.
Arcturus,
she prayed,
please show me
.

When she opened her eyes again the forest looked brighter, the colors more intense. The muddy patches upstream seemed wider and deeper, and the bushes seemed to stretch out twiggy paws to trap her. But her pelt prickled with apprehension as she imagined trying to find cover in the scanty undergrowth downstream.

I have to choose one,
she thought desperately.

Then she realized that she had a third choice. The river in front of her looked cool and inviting, and according to Toklo it might be full of tempting salmon. Her paws tingling, she turned to Ujurak.

“We cross the river,” she announced.

She winced as Toklo let out a scornful snort, but she ignored him. It was Ujurak who would tell her whether she was right.

The small brown cub nodded and pride filled her from her nose to the tips of her claws. “That is our way.”

“What?” Toklo's voice was outraged. “Bears don't swim.”

“Of course we do!” Lusa was shocked that there was something she knew that Toklo didn't. Grunting with delight, she flung herself into the river, rejoicing in the surge of water around her. She ducked her head and came up again, then dived deeper until she could scrabble her paws among the pebbles on the riverbed.

When she resurfaced she looked back at the bank to see Toklo and Ujurak standing side by side, watching her. Ujurak looked fascinated, but Toklo's expression was fierce.

“Come back!” he ordered.

Lusa ignored the command. “Come on in, it's lovely!” she invited.

Ujurak took a step toward the water's edge, but Toklo stayed where he was. “Come back
now
,” he repeated. “We can't cross here. I told you, I don't swim.”

“All bears swim,” Lusa argued, batting at the water with her paws so that drops splashed up and glittered in the sunlight. Why was Toklo making such a fuss, when any bear could see he was wrong? “Try—like this.” She demonstrated how she moved her paws through the water. “You'll love it.”

Ujurak teetered on the edge for a moment, then plunged into the river and paddled over to Lusa. His brown eyes sparkled. “I feel like a fish!”

“Come
on
, Toklo,” Lusa repeated. Satisfaction surged up in her, as strong as the current, to think that for once she wasn't the weak black bear who didn't know how to live in the wild. This was something she could do better than Toklo. “What's the matter?” she added. “Why won't you try?”

The big grizzly cub began pacing up and down the bank, pausing every now and then as if he were about to dive in, then starting to pace again. “I…I don't get along with water,” he muttered.

Lusa didn't understand what he meant. After all, he had to get into the river to catch salmon, didn't he? She'd never seen a grizzly catch fish but she was pretty sure the fish didn't leap onto the bank to be eaten. “Just jump in,” she said. “Your paws will know what to do.”

“Come on!” Ujurak called. “It's easy! You'll be fine.”

With an impatient growl, Toklo crouched on the riverbank, his muscles bunched with tension, and threw himself into the water. His head went under; when he reappeared he was flailing his paws frantically, using far more energy than he needed, but making slow progress toward the opposite bank. Lusa swam over to keep pace with him, and saw that his eyes were wide with terror.

“It's okay,” she said. “You're doing great.”

Toklo's head whipped around to face her. “Leave me alone!” he snarled, swiping a paw at her.

Alarmed, Lusa backed off. But Toklo's attempt to smack her had broken the rhythm of his strokes. He took in a great gulp of water and sank.

Lusa gave him a couple of heartbeats to resurface, but the grizzly didn't appear. Icy fear, colder than the current, crept through her fur. Maybe he really couldn't swim! What if Toklo drowned, after she had persuaded him to jump into the river?

Lusa dove deep into the water, keeping her eyes as wide open as she could; swinging her head from side to side, she spotted a dark, bulky shape a short way downstream. It was Toklo being swept along by the current. He was floundering helplessly, his eyes and mouth wide open in alarm, bubbles of air streaming up to the surface from his jaws.

Lusa's stomach lurched. They couldn't lose Toklo! All three of them belonged together, on the journey to see the spirits dance.
One shadow, many legs.

Swimming toward Toklo, Lusa gave him a hearty shove upward. As their heads broke the surface, she felt a stinging blow on her shoulder. Toklo had lashed out at her with his claws. She wasn't sure if he was still trying to attack her, or just thrashing around in panic because he thought he was drowning.

“Stop it!” she gasped. “Swim, like I showed you.”

Ujurak's head bobbed beside her in the water. His snout was pointing upward, his neck crooked back to keep his nose in the air, and his legs paddled so hard he was making waves of his own.

“Can I help?” he spluttered.

“No—keep back!” Lusa couldn't imagine how she would cope with both of them in trouble. “Toklo,
swim
! Move your paws like this!”

Toklo coughed up a mouthful of water. “Don't let me drown!” he begged.

“You won't drown,” Lusa promised, shoving her shoulder underneath him to support his bulk in the water. To her relief, he started paddling again, though panic still glittered in his eyes. “I can manage now,” he gasped.

“Okay.” Lusa wasn't sure he could, but she let him go ahead, staying close and keeping an eye on him. He was tiring himself out with those clumsy strokes, and the far bank was still a long way away.

“Over here!” Ujurak called.

Lusa thanked the spirits when she saw a narrow spit of pebbles in the middle of the river. Ujurak was standing at the very edge of the little island with river water washing around his paws.

“That way!” Lusa summoned all her energy and thrust Toklo across the current, propelling him through the water with very little help from the grizzly's feeble flailing paws.

Ujurak had found a dead branch lying on the pebbles; he grabbed one end in his jaws and rolled it into the water. Gulping and choking, Toklo managed to sink his claws into the branch and drag himself toward Ujurak, while Lusa pushed him into the shallows where they could both touch the bottom and heave themselves out.

Toklo shook himself, sending drops of water flying into the air in an arc around him.

“Are you okay?” Lusa checked.

Toklo coughed up another mouthful of water. “I'm fine. I'd
have figured it out on my own.” He paused a moment, then added ungraciously, “Thanks.”

“You did well,” Lusa said quietly.

Toklo held her gaze for a heartbeat, then hesitated at the water's edge before wading back into the river.

“Where are you going now?” Lusa asked, alarmed. “You need to rest before we head for the other bank.”

Toklo turned to look back at her. “I told you, brown bears don't need to swim. I'm going to catch a fish.”

Lusa watched him until he stopped with water halfway up his legs. The current tugged at his chestnut-brown belly hair, but he stood without moving, his gaze fixed on the water. Satisfied that he was okay, Lusa let herself sink to the ground. It felt good to rest her aching legs; she loved swimming, but not when she had to push along a much bigger bear who didn't know how to help himself.

“You did great back there!” Ujurak shook the water out of his pelt and flopped down beside her on the pebbles. “You swim really well. I changed into a salmon once, but it's more fun swimming as a bear.”

Lusa felt a jolt of fear deep in her belly. “You changed into a
salmon
? What if a bear had eaten you?”

“Toklo made sure they didn't,” Ujurak replied.

Lusa glanced at Toklo's hunched shape in the river, and wondered if she would trust the grizzly as much as that. He was so determined to do things on his own, she sometimes thought he didn't want companions.

“You
can
trust him, you know,” Ujurak insisted, as if he had
guessed her thoughts. “He's angry, but not with us.”

No, he's angry with his mother. But if he'd just listen to what Oka wanted me to tell him, he wouldn't need to be so angry anymore.

She stretched out beside Ujurak, licking the sore place on her shoulder where Toklo had scratched her, and letting the slanting rays of the sun warm her pelt. She watched impatiently for Toklo to come back with a salmon. But when the grizzly cub finally turned and waded out of the river, his jaws were empty.

“Didn't you catch anything?” she asked, dismayed. Her belly felt emptier than ever.

“There's nothing to catch,” Toklo growled. “There are no fish here.”

Ujurak's eyes widened in alarm. He scrambled to his paws and led the way across to the other side of the pebbly spit of land. “We have to keep going,” he urged.

“I'm not getting back into that river,” Toklo stated.

“What?” Lusa stared at him in dismay. He'd proven he could swim, hadn't he? What was wrong now? “We can't stay here. Come on, Toklo. I'll help you.”

“No.” For once Toklo wasn't getting angry, but his voice held a quiet determination that Lusa sensed she couldn't argue with. “I'm not swimming again, and that's that.”

Lusa exchanged a glance with Ujurak. “What are we going to do?”

“We have to stay together,” Ujurak said decidedly. “Let's follow this bank of pebbles and see where it leads.”

They crunched their way along the narrow spit in the middle of the river, first heading downstream, in the direction of the current. Just around a curve in the river, the pebbles sloped down until they sank beneath the surface of the water. Toklo didn't say anything, but Ujurak turned around and headed back the way they had come. They passed the place where they had come ashore and continued upstream with Ujurak in the lead. Sunlight bouncing off the water dazzled Lusa's eyes, so she could hardly see where she was putting her paws. Anxiety nagged at her like a bear gnawing its prey. What would they do if they couldn't get to the other side of the river without getting wet? Would she and Ujurak be strong enough to push Toklo into the river and force him to swim?

As they padded on, Lusa noticed that Ujurak kept casting uneasy glances across the river, and sometimes back over his shoulder. She picked up her pace to catch up to him.

“What's the matter?”

Ujurak shook his head frustratedly. “We should be going the other way.”

“Well, it's okay,” Lusa reassured him. “We haven't lost the path. Once we get across, we'll go the right way again.”

Ujurak didn't argue, but he still looked uncertain, and his pawsteps dragged as if a current like the river was trying to pull him back. Lusa padded beside him, brushing his pelt with hers in an effort to encourage him. After a while the pebbly spit of land grew so narrow that she was afraid it was coming
to an end; the bears walked single file, the outsides of their paws touching the water on either side. Toklo, who was in front now, said nothing, just plodded onward with his head down. Just when Lusa was about to point out that they might have to swim anyway, the spit of stones widened out again. It drew closer to the opposite bank, but the channel between was still too wide to leap, and looked too deep to wade.