River of Lost Bears (4 page)

“I guess.” Toklo peered over his shoulder. Yakone and Kallik were picking their way across the boulders, navigating the fissures and cracks, as clumsy as newborn cubs. Whenever they crossed a patch of melting snow, their pawsteps grew firmer.

“Admit it,” Lusa puffed. “You wished you were back in the forest with every frozen step. Just like me.”

“But we didn't go back, did we?” Toklo pointed out. “We stayed till we'd done what we said we'd do.”

“So will they,” Lusa promised.

Toklo huffed. “I hope so.”

The sun was reaching higher. Lusa paused to nuzzle for roots among the sedge from time to time, then caught up with Toklo and chewed noisily as she trotted along beside him.

“Toklo!”

Kallik's call made him turn. He was surprised to see how far behind the white bears had fallen. “What's up?” He stopped.

She stared at him wearily. “I'm used to the coldness of the ice.”

“It's not even warm yet.” Toklo could feel the breeze in his fur. It still had the freshness of cold-earth.

“It might not be warm for you,” Yakone puffed. “But we're melting as fast as the snow.”

“Why don't you go for a swim?” Lusa suggested. “The river's freezing.”

“Good idea.” Toklo glanced toward the trees. Had they cleared the black bear's territory yet? “And in the meantime I'll find somewhere cool for you, sheltered from the sun.”

Yakone and Kallik waded into the river and let the rushing torrent sweep over their backs while Toklo and Lusa scouted the shore.

“There's a cove down here!” Lusa called from a boulder a few bearlengths ahead. She scrambled down out of sight.

Toklo clambered up the rock and peered over the edge. Below, a pebbly beach lined the shore. “Lusa?” There was no sign of the black bear. Quickly, Toklo clambered down to the beach. “Lusa!”

“I'm in here!” Her voice echoed from beneath the boulder.

Toklo peered into a smooth, shallow cave.

Lusa stood in the shadows, water puddling around her paws. Floods had hollowed out the rock. She lifted her muzzle. “It's nice and cool in here.”

The wind whisked in from the river, lifting Toklo's fur. “Good find, Lusa!”

“I'll get Kallik and Yakone!” Lusa flicked her muzzle toward the two white bears. They'd waded farther out and were diving in the fast-running water.

As Lusa bounced happily past him, Toklo sniffed the cave, checking for bear scent.
Nothing.
Just the cool smell of water and moss. Of course! Why would a black bear hang around here when he had a whole forest?

“They're fishing!” Lusa appeared at the mouth of the cave, shaking water from her short, black fur. “Kallik's teaching Yakone how to catch like a brown bear.”

“Good.” Toklo padded into the sunshine and stopped beside Lusa. The fresh scents of the forest tugged at him. “Why don't you fish, too? I want to check and make sure we're out of that black bear's territory.”

“We must be by now,” Lusa huffed. “We've been walking for ages.”

“We don't know how big his territory is,” Toklo pointed out.

“Be careful.” Lusa headed into the river and waded downstream.

“You too,” Toklo called. “Stay in the shallows. The currents farther out are too strong for you.”

Lusa glared over her shoulder. “Just because I'm small doesn't mean I'm stupid.” She pointed her nose at the thundering river. “Only an idiot would go fishing in the rapids!”

“Sorry.” Toklo knew that Lusa had proved herself as brave and smart as any bear while they were on the ice. But she was so small, it was hard not to feel protective.

He climbed the rocks from the shore and plunged through the sedge bordering the forest. The cool scents of tree sap and pine needles drew him into the shadow of the trees. Green hummocks, thick with moss, sat between the slender trunks. Toklo padded forward, nostrils wide, and sniffed the roots of a spruce. No bear markings here. Sunlight dappled the forest floor, and he sprang from hummock to hummock, icy water squelching between his claws. The forest sloped upward, and the hummocks gave way to smooth forest floor. Budding ferns unfurled among tree roots, and Toklo relished the swish of them against his paws. Birds twittered from every branch, and high above the treetops, he caught a glimpse of an eagle, circling. After the long journey across the ice, it felt good to be plunging through the forest alone. For the first time in moons, he felt at ease.

Suddenly, a vicious snarl ripped through the peace.

Toklo froze, sniffing for scent. Had the black bear spotted him?

A frightened yelp answered the snarl. “Stop, Hakan! Leave me alone!” It was the cry of a she-bear. Toklo raced toward the sounds, crashing into a shallow clearing.

Toklo recognized the black bear from earlier. He was growling at a smaller bear as she cowered against a tree. She was a black bear, too, not much bigger than Lusa.

“No, Hakan!”

Her eyes widened with horror as Hakan stretched up on his hind legs and swiped at her.

Toklo snarled. “Leave her alone!”

Hakan snapped his head around. “You again?” He turned on Toklo. “I thought I'd told you to get lost. This is none of your business!”

“It's always my business when I see a bear picking an unfair fight,” Toklo growled.

The she-bear wriggled out from behind Hakan. “It's okay! Really.”

“Yeah,” Hakan sneered. “Get out of here. I'm sick of chasing you off.”

Toklo smelled blood and saw a patch of red welling on the she-bear's ear. “I'm not going anywhere until I know she'll be safe.”

“I'm safe now.” The she-bear shook out her fur.

Toklo stared at her bleeding ear. “It doesn't look like it.”

She swiped a paw over her wound, smearing the scarlet beads. “Look, I'm fine. Okay?”

“Of course you're fine.” Hakan jerked his nose toward the trees. “Now, get out of here, Chenoa. And next time you want to leave the territory just because you feel like it, let me know first, so I can come and get you out of trouble.”

“Fine!” Chenoa stomped away through the trees.

The black bear watched Chenoa disappear, then swung around to face Toklo. “Don't mess with things you don't know about. If my sister doesn't stay inside my territory, I can't keep her safe.”

She's your
kin
!
Toklo's thoughts flashed back to the day his mother, mad with grief, had driven him away. Oka's cruelty still shocked him, and he never imagined there might be other bears who would behave like that toward their family. Anger pulsed beneath his pelt. He suddenly felt fiercely protective of Chenoa. “You didn't look like you were keeping her very safe just now.”

Hakan flexed his shoulders. “She should listen to me. She's
young
, and I know what's best for her. I've raised her since our mother was crushed by a firebeast—” He broke off, his eyes suddenly glittering with grief. “Get out of here. This is my territory! If I see you here again, I'll rip your fur off!” He lashed out furiously at Toklo.

Toklo sidestepped, and Hakan's paws thumped bare earth.

“Okay, I'm going!” Toklo turned away. He didn't want to fight. Hakan was smaller than him. Besides, he understood the pain of losing a mother. Toklo paused.
But what about Chenoa?
She'd lost her mother, too. How could Hakan be so unkind to her? Anger tightened his chest and he glanced over his shoulder, wondering whether to remind this bear what a ripped ear felt like. He crushed the urge and walked away, muttering, “You're not worth the fight.”

“Not worth the fight?” came a bellow behind him.

Pain burst through Toklo's body as claws raked his rump. Shocked, he dropped and rolled. Hakan lunged at him again. Scrambling to his paws, Toklo escaped just in time, but Hakan still came for him.

Toklo reared onto his hind legs, claws stretched out.
How does this bear think he can win?

Hakan rose to meet him. “I'll show you who's not worth the fight!” Eyes blazing, the black bear swiped at Toklo.

Toklo knocked away a blow, then another, but a third caught his cheek. Pain seared through his face, and blood welled around his eyes. He staggered backward and dropped onto all fours.

Hakan glared at him. “Had enough?”

Fury pulsed through Toklo. “Back off before I hurt you.”

Hakan roared and swung at Toklo. His paw thumped Toklo's ear. Toklo stepped away, thinking fast. He needed to end this fight, but he didn't want to hurt Hakan too badly, not if his sister really did need him for protection. Ducking, he nipped at Hakan's hind legs.

“You fight like a wolverine!” Hakan swung a forepaw at him.

Toklo struck the black bear's chest before the jab reached him. Hakan staggered backward, gasping. Toklo lunged after him and swiped again. He landed a blow on Hakan's shoulder. He held back his full strength, but it was enough to knock Hakan sideways.

Shock sparked in the black bear's gaze. He staggered as he fought to keep his balance. Had he finally realized he'd taken on a bear twice his size?

“Get out of here,” Toklo snarled. “Before I really shred you.” Pain flashed in the wound on his cheek.

“Don't think you've won.” Hakan puffed out his chest. “Next time I won't give up so easily.” Growling under his breath, he limped away between the trees.

Toklo shifted his paws uneasily. Even though the black bear had started the fight, he didn't like that he'd come close to hurting a bear smaller than he was just for the sake of proving his strength. He pushed his way through a clump of ragweed and padded onto a soft stretch of moss.

“Hello.”

A whisper from the ragweed made him jump.

“Who is it?”

The younger black bear crept out and stopped in front of him. Toklo remembered Hakan had called her Chenoa. “Thanks for sticking up for me,” she said. Her gaze clouded as it flicked over Toklo. “Are you hurt? Did Hakan do this?”

Toklo lifted his head. “It's just a few scratches.”

Her eyes were as round as Lusa's. “You fought for me?”

“It wasn't for you.” Toklo wished she'd go away and stop staring at him. His fight with Hakan had been dumb. His pelt bristled hotly. “Has your brother always been such a sore-paw?”

“I guess so.” Chenoa tilted her head to one side. “He's been worse since I killed our mother.”

“
You
killed your mother?” Toklo choked on the words. “But Hakan said a firebeast killed her.”

“It did.” Chenoa's eyes glittered with pain. “But it was my fault.” She paused to take a trembling breath. “I was on a BlackPath and I tripped.” She dropped her gaze. “My mother came back to help me, and that's when the firebeast hit her.” Her voice thickened as if grief choked her. “Hakan was watching from the trees. He said it was my fault. He says only
I'd
be stupid enough to trip on a BlackPath.”

Toklo wanted to say something to make her feel better, but the young bear was lost in her misery.

“He doesn't need to keep blaming me!” she hissed. “I
know
it was my fault. I
know
I'm clumsy and stupid, and if I wasn't such a wrong-paw, our mother would still be alive.” Her eyes flashed with anger as she lifted her head and glared at Toklo.

What can I say?
Toklo gazed back at her. Chenoa must have been just a cub when it happened. It wasn't her fault. “My brother died,” he blurted. Perhaps if she knew that bad things happened to everyone, she wouldn't feel so bad. “Tobi was my littermate. He was always sick. I tried to play with him. I tried to teach him to hunt, but he was never strong enough. I was angry that he slowed us down. And then he died and after that, my mother didn't want me anymore.” He paused, suddenly breathless.

Chenoa gazed at him, wide-eyed. “She didn't want you?
Why?
”

Toklo swallowed. He didn't want to think about it. “Because …” He groped for words. “I guess she was scared I was going to die, too.” He stiffened, surprised how much had tumbled out to this unknown bear.

Chenoa blinked. “That must have been terrible.”

“It was.”

“I guess I still have Hakan.”

“I'm not sure that's such a good thing.”

“He means well,” Chenoa insisted. “But he doesn't realize that I'm not a cub anymore.”

Toklo looked her up and down. She wasn't exactly a full-grown bear, either.

She went on, lifting her muzzle. “I can't stay here forever. I need a territory of my own, or I'll never be able to look after myself.” She eyed Toklo, suddenly curious. “Where's your territory, by the way? I don't recognize your scent.”

Toklo glanced over his shoulder. The others would be missing him. “We've been traveling.”