Great Bear Lake Read online

  “Where are you going in such a hurry?” he grunted.

  “Down to the lake,” Toklo replied. “I want to catch a fish.”

  The grizzly huffed out his breath. “You’ll wait a long time. Oh, there are fish in there, but they’re few and far between. Not even enough to keep a scrawny cub like you alive.”

  Toklo looked around wildly. “Then what are all these bears going to eat?”

  The old bear stared at Toklo for a few moments. Toklo shifted his front paws on the pebbles, feeling his fur itch.

  “What’s your name, young one?” the big grizzly asked.

  “Toklo.”

  “And I am Shesh. Now look out across the water, Toklo. What do you see?”

  Toklo gazed at the gray, ridged water, wondering what the old bear was getting at. “Um…waves.”

  “And what else?” Shesh persisted.

  “An island,” Toklo replied. “With bushes…and some trees.”

  “This lake has been here since the time before bears,” Shesh told him. “It was a cold and barren place. The wind swept over it, snow and rain and sunlight fell onto the ground, but it never changed. No creatures dared to live here. Then the great bear Arcturus came this way. He was searching for a great wilderness where he could live all alone. He strode across the lake and where he set his paw, an island sprang up. Fish thronged around it and he ate his fill before he journeyed on. And ever since then we bears have taken this lake for our own, and every suncircle, on the Longest Day, we return here to remember that bear’s journey and to give thanks to his spirit.”

  That must have been a massive bear, Toklo thought. I wonder where he is now.

  “Come with me to the parley stone,” Shesh said, turning away from the water. “There you will hear more tales.”

  “But I’m hungry!” Toklo protested.

  “We are all hungry, little one,” the old bear replied.

  Shesh led the way along the lakeshore until he reached a flat-topped stone that jutted out over the water. Many grizzlies crowded around it: mostly older bears, Toklo noticed, though there were some mothers with cubs. Toklo spotted Ujurak on the opposite side, looking around him with bright-eyed interest. The crowd parted for Shesh with nods of respect, so that he and Toklo could make their way to the foot of the rock.

  The old bear Ujurak had spoken to earlier stood on top of the rock. A breeze flattened his pelt against his thin frame, but he held himself more proudly than before.

  “That is Oogrook,” Shesh murmured into Toklo’s ear. “The oldest and wisest of us all.”

  Oogrook lifted his muzzle and let out a long low moan that echoed around the lakeshore. The bears near him sank into silence; then he stopped and began to speak. “This will be my last Longest Day Gathering,” he began, his voice as thin as a reed and faint as the wind on the water. “At sunrise tomorrow I will give thanks to the sun, and to the spirits for—”

  “What do you want to thank them for?” A she-bear spoke up, her hackles raised. “They’re supposed to bring us food, but we’re all hungry. I thought there’d be plenty of fish in the lake, but it’s as bad here as everywhere else.”

  A few of the bears growled at her for interrupting, but Oogrook silenced them with a raised paw. “What our sister says is true. In some places rivers have dried up, while in others they burst their banks and drown the land around for many bearlengths. There are fewer fish to eat, fewer roots and berries to be found.”

  “True, true,” a mother bear grunted, giving her cub a comforting lick on its shoulder.

  “So what should we do, Oogrook?” another voice cried from the opposite side of the stone. “If we can’t find food, we’ll all die!”

  A chorus of voices joined in. “Yes, tell us what to do!”

  “Where can I find food for my cubs?”

  “The fish must have gone somewhere!”

  Once more Oogrook held up his paw for silence. “We are here to thank the spirits for what should be the time of best prey. And why should we only blame them for the lack of food? Could it be our fault, for not living the way of true brown bears? In such bad times, a demonstration of courage and strength is needed to show that brown bears are still strong, still worthy of being fed by the river spirits.”

  “How do we do that?” a bear burst out.

  The ancient bear nodded. “A good question. I believe that we can bring the salmon back by following in the pawsteps of Arcturus, the great bear who once walked across the lake. He was brave enough to make the journey alone, and he found a place where he could live and eat and find shelter.”

  “What has this got to do with bringing the fish back?” demanded the she-bear who had spoken first.

  “I believe that a bear should make the journey to Pawprint Island,” Oogrook replied. “Alone, because that is how brown bears live—alone, proud, hunting for themselves. Then perhaps Arcturus will look kindly on us, and send back the fish.”

  Silence followed his words as the bears looked at one another, with doubt or dawning hope in their expressions.

  “It might work,” Shesh said thoughtfully.

  “I’ll go! I’ll go!” squeaked a tiny cub, bouncing up and down with excitement.

  “Don’t be squirrel-brained,” his mother said, calming him with a paw on one shoulder. “You’re far too young.”

  “Why don’t you go, Hattack?” one of the young males suggested, nudging his companion. “You’re always saying what a good swimmer you are.”

  Hattack looked at his paws. “Well, I would,” he mumbled, “but I’ve got a cramp in one hind leg.”

  “Then I’ll go,” his companion announced. “I’m not scared.”

  Toklo looked at the lake. Waves hissed on the shore; the island looked a long way away. He imagined the great bear Arcturus striding across the water, pulling the island up by his claws and scooping out huge mouthfuls of fish.

  He glanced back at the bears gathered around the parley stone. Ujurak was squeezing forward through the crowd. For a moment Toklo was afraid that he was going to volunteer; the younger cub was certainly bee-brained enough. But Ujurak just listened intently to what the other bears were saying.

  A voice spoke behind Toklo. “Here’s the bear who should go!” At the same moment a heavy paw landed on his back.

  Toklo sprang to his paws and spun around. “What—”

  The speaker was a huge bear with a ragged pelt and a hump. Toklo thought he looked familiar, but he couldn’t remember where they might have met before.

  “Why do you say that, Shoteka?” Oogrook asked, raising his voice above the murmurs of surprise from the other bears.

  Memory struck Toklo like a blow in the belly. He remembered a wide salmon river below a mountain, many sunrises ago. And he remembered the grizzly who had tried to drown him there. Toklo’s jaws gaped in horror. “Shoteka!”

  “I didn’t expect to see you again,” the humpbacked bear snarled. “I thought you would have died long ago, with no mother to protect you.”

  A pang of grief and anger shook Toklo as he recalled how Oka had defended him from this bear who tried to kill him.

  “Shoteka?” Oogrook’s voice had an edge of impatience as he waited for an answer. “Why do you choose this cub?”

  Shoteka shrugged. “One bear has to go: Why not this one?” More quietly, he added to Toklo, “But you’re too weak. No wonder your mother abandoned you.”

  “Don’t talk about my mother!” Toklo snarled.

  The grizzly’s eyes glittered with hostility. “Try stopping me.”

  “Oogrook.” Shesh drew closer to Toklo’s side. “This journey is too dangerous for a cub.”

  “Yes, he’s too young,” a bear shouted from the other side of the parley stone. “Why don’t you go yourself, Shoteka?”

  “I chose him because he’s young,” Shoteka replied. “He will go a cub but return a full-grown bear, like Arcturus.”

  “I think Shoteka’s right,” one of the she-bears added. “A cub should go. T
hey are the future of all the bears.”

  “Spirits save us!” Shesh growled. “We cannot risk the life of a cub, not even for this.”

  All around the stone, the bears erupted into growls and snarls, huffs and snorts, gesturing at Toklo as they argued. Toklo looked across the choppy waves to the island. He imagined how quiet it would be there, away from all these noisy bears.

  Shoteka put his muzzle by Toklo’s ear. “You’re just like your mother, weak and scared,” he whispered. “Sooner or later the flat-faces will come and take you away, and you’ll scream for help. Just like Oka did. Scared as a squirrel, she was, begging and pleading as they dragged her into the firebeast.”

  Fury surged through Toklo like flame. “I’ll go!” he roared at the top of his voice.

  The bears stopped arguing and turned to look at him.

  “If you survive the challenge, Arcturus will know that brown bears are worthy of being fed for the next suncircle,” Oogrook said.

  “If you survive,” Shoteka hissed in his ear.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Shesh said quietly beside him. “You’re only a cub. No bear will think worse of you.”

  “I’ll do it, I’ll go,” Toklo insisted.

  “That is bravely spoken, young one,” Oogrook said. “May the spirits go with you.”

  “Thank you, Oogrook,” Toklo replied, surprised that his voice sounded clear and steady. Glancing at Shoteka, he added, “I hope I meet you again, when I’m bigger!”

  “I won’t hold my breath,” the grizzly retorted. He turned and padded away from the parley stone.

  The other bears began to move away, too; Toklo felt very small when the older bears nodded to him in respect as they went by, while the young ones glanced nervously at him and whispered to one another as if he weren’t a regular brown bear anymore, but some kind of spirit-bear.

  Ujurak wriggled his way to Toklo’s side. “Hey, Toklo, are you really going to swim all the way out there?”

  Toklo looked out at Pawprint Island, trying not to let Ujurak see the fear swirling inside his belly. “I’d do anything for a bit of peace and quiet,” he said gruffly.

  Shesh padded up to Toklo and stood beside him, gazing out at the island. It seemed to move farther away with every wave that lapped at his paws.

  “What should I do when I get there?” Toklo asked the old bear.

  “Feel the strength and pride of Arcturus, young bear,” Shesh told him. “Rake your claws down a tree. Catch some prey. Defend your territory. For the Longest Day, Pawprint Island belongs to you. Then return to us after the sun has touched the horizon.”

  Toklo gulped. The old bear’s obvious concern for him made him suspect that this was going to be even harder than he had thought.

  “You should rest for a while and build up your strength, so you’re ready,” Shesh said.

  A she-bear padded up with a small fish in her jaws, and laid it on the pebbles beside him. “May the spirits go with you,” she murmured.

  “Er, thank you,” Toklo said, feeling very embarrassed. “Uh…do you want some?” he offered to Shesh and Ujurak.

  Ujurak shook his head.

  “That is yours,” Shesh explained. “You deserve it for the task you have undertaken. If you succeed, then every bear will have all the fish they can eat.”

  That didn’t stop Toklo from feeling guilty as he lay down and ate it up. It didn’t fill his belly but it was good to eat something that wasn’t leaves or berries. His eyes felt heavy with sleep. But when he closed them, the words of the she-bear echoed in his ears: May the spirits go with you. Didn’t she know it was the spirits he was afraid of? Waiting just below the surface, waiting to pull him down, his fur as heavy as stones, until water rushed into his nose and mouth and his breath was sucked away…

  Opening his eyes again, he let his nose rest on his paws and stared out at the lake, watching the water turn pale gray, then pink as the sun slowly dipped behind the forest.

  Shesh appeared beside him, his paws crunching on the stones. “It is time,” he said gently.

  Toklo rose to his paws. With Ujurak at his side, he padded the few paces that took him to the very edge of the lake. The island looked impossibly far away, almost hidden by white-tipped waves with birds bobbing on them.

  I can’t do this.

  He glanced back and nearly yelped with surprise. The whole gathering of brown bears had come down to the shore and was watching him. There were more bears than he could count: huge adults, groups of young cubs, scrawny bears, old bears, bears sitting and bears standing on their back legs. Toklo’s own legs felt wobbly, but Shesh was calm and approving as if he trusted Toklo to do this, while the ancient Oogrook’s eyes were filled with hope. Only Shoteka, standing off to one side, looked scornful.

  Ujurak pushed his muzzle into the fur on Toklo’s shoulder. “Look at the lake,” he whispered. “It’s a good sign.”

  Toklo turned toward the lake again. In the evening sun it had turned bright pink, the color of salmon.

  “You’ll be okay, I promise,” Ujurak said. “You can swim, just remember that.”

  “Thanks,” Toklo replied.

  Ujurak bounded up the beach to stand beside Shesh. Toklo knew there was no going back now; he had taken the challenge and what happened next was in the paws of the spirits. The spirits waiting to drag him under…

  Oka? Tobi? Do you really want to see me again?

  Slowly, he padded forward, the lake water lapping cold and soft over his feet. Behind him, he could hear the other bears murmuring excitedly.

  “The salmon will return to us.”

  “The cub is brave.”

  “Arcturus! Honor this cub by bringing us prey.”

  They wouldn’t honor him when he didn’t come back, and they stayed hungry. But at least he wouldn’t be here to see their disappointment. Maybe this had been meant to happen all along; he had brought Ujurak and Lusa safely to the lake, and other bears would journey with them now.

  The water crept cold up his legs as he waded farther from the shore. He could feel bear spirits tugging at his paws already, pulling him into the water, and thought he could hear the voices of his mother and Tobi. Come to us, they whispered. Come into the water….

  For a heartbeat he froze, fighting the impulse to gallop back to shore.

  Why did I agree to this? It’s all Shoteka’s fault. I hope a tree falls on his head. I hope he’s attacked by a firebeast.

  He took another step and felt the water lifting him off his paws. Water filled his nose and splashed over his eyes. He stretched his muzzle up to breathe and kicked off from the pebbly bottom.

  Slowly, Toklo began dragging himself through the water, closer to Pawprint Island.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Kallik

  The sun was setting as Kallik ran down the slope to join the other bears. Her body felt light as goose feathers and she couldn’t feel the cuts on her paws.

  She had reached the Longest Day Gathering! Maybe Taqqiq will be here!

  She passed bears sitting in groups, their heads together as if they were talking. Others padded up and down the edge of the lake, or stood with their forepaws in the water, dipping their muzzles to drink.

  “…shot by a flat-face,” she heard as she passed the first group. “And her cubs left with no mother to care for them.”

  A pang of pity clawed Kallik’s heart as she pictured that unknown bear and her cubs. She knew how the cubs must have felt, left alone to look after themselves.

  “The ice is melting sooner every suncircle,” another bear put in. “We’re here to call it back, but will the ice spirits hear us? That’s what I’d like to know.”

  The bears were crowded more closely together as Kallik approached the lake. She began looking around, hoping to spot Taqqiq, but every bear she saw was a stranger. Some of them raised their muzzles to sniff her, or swung their heads to follow her with a suspicious gaze as she padded past.

  She drew near to a larger group of fem
ales and their cubs; memory stabbed her heart like a splinter of ice when she spotted two cubs wrestling together. She and Taqqiq had played just like that.

  “I’m an orca, and I’m going to eat you,” one of the cubs squealed, pouncing on her brother.

  “Oh yeah? Well, I’m a walrus, and I’m going to eat you!”

  The two cubs rolled over and over until they bumped into one of the she-bears, who swiveled around to glare at them. “That’s enough!”

  “Sorry, Mother.” Both cubs sat looking at their paws until the she-bear gave them each a gentle cuff on their shoulders. Then they scampered off again, chasing each other in a circle.

  “Has any bear seen Nanuk?” the she-bear asked another bear standing close by. “I expected her to be here by now.”

  Kallik’s ears pricked. Does she mean my Nanuk?

  “No, Qanniq,” the bear replied. Her fur was thin and patchy and her body shrunken with age, but there was wisdom in her pale eyes. “You know that Nanuk prefers to travel alone, ever since she lost her cubs last burn-sky.”

  Yes! Kallik padded up to the she-bear who’d spoken first. “Do you know Nanuk? A bear with a flattish muzzle and tiny ears?”

  The bears turned and stared at her.

  “Yes, I know her,” Qanniq replied. “Why? Have you seen her?”

  Kallik shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Nanuk is dead.”

  “No!” exclaimed a younger she-bear who had padded up to listen.

  The oldest bear’s eyes were filled with sorrow. “I grieve to hear that. May her spirit travel safely to the sky.”

  Qanniq asked, “How do you know? Were you with her?”

  Kallik nodded.

  “What happened?” the younger bear asked.

  “I was captured by flat-faces,” Kallik explained, feeling a little awkward to be the center of so much attention. She wasn’t used to talking this much, and her throat hurt as if she’d been eating prickers. “They…they put me in a cage, and that’s when I met Nanuk. The flat-faces made us go to sleep with pointy sticks. But that wasn’t what killed her,” she added quickly, as the mother bear began to growl deep in her throat. “When we woke up, we were both in a net, carried way up in the sky by a huge metal bird.”