Bub, Snow, and the Burly Bear Scare Page 7

  The wind fluttered my eyelashes. It whistled in my ears.

  Faster. Faster!

  Everything happened so quickly, I didn’t even know what was going on until we slowed at the far side of the pond. When we finally stopped, I lay there a moment. I was still holding my breath. When I let it out, this strange sound came out of me. It was a laugh. Not a people laugh, but a moose laugh.

  I laughed and laughed and laughed until a little tear came to my eye.

  “Yee-haaaa!” Joe Bob yelped, once he let go of the leaf.

  “Yahoooo!” Linda Sue squealed. She hopped over my back and went to wrestle with Joe Bob. “What a ride, cowboy. We went clean to the far bank of the pond. Reckon that’s the best slide that we ever had.”

  They laughed and tumbled and played. I had to stop for a second to catch my breath. Mother stood high on the slope of the valley. Frozen, she watched until she was sure I was okay. Then she shook her head, rolled her eyes, and went back to munching on the green fir boughs.

  I had to roll over on one side and tuck my legs under me to get up. As soon as I was on my feet, I heard a sound. It was weird. Sort of a yapping, howling, snorting noise—all rolled into one.

  I looked up the hill where we just came from. At first I couldn’t see what was making all the racket. Then I saw three black dots in the solid white. Two black eyes and a black nose.

  “Snow!” I hrronked. “Snow? It that you?”

  The white wolf howled and hooted. He flopped around in the snow, rolling from side to side, like he was having a fit or something. It had been so long since I had seen Snow. I charged across the pond and galloped up the hill.

  He didn’t even look up. He just kept rolling and laughing his fool tail off. “That’s the funniest thing I ever saw in my life,” he howled. “You should have seen your eyes. I didn’t know moose’s eyes could get that big around. I mean . . . there you went . . . sprawled out flat on your belly . . . flying down the hill. And the two otter . . . hanging on . . . bouncing around, right there with you.” He started howling and rolling in the snow again. I walked over to him and gave him a big wet kiss.

  “Hey, what’s that all about?” Snow shook his fur and shot me a disgusted look.

  “I’m so happy to see you. What are you doing here?”

  “My pack is just passing through. We’ve been down, hunting rabbits. Headed back up to the high country. We’ll just be here a day or two. But I never expected to see . . . to see—” he broke off, howling again. “Never expected to see a moose go flying down a hill like that.”

  “It was fun!” I puffed out my chest and stood tall. “You ought to try it.”

  Snow shook his head.

  I raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? You scared?”

  That was all it took. We spent the rest of the afternoon taking turns sliding down the hill on the giant leaf. Getting it to the top was easy, once Snow got in on things. He latched on to one corner and, growling and snarling, tugged the thing to the top.

  I asked him if all that noise was really necessary. He just wagged his tail and told me that it helped.

  Once Joe Bob and Linda Sue found that Snow was no threat to them, they even joined in.

  I would hold the leaf down with my hoof while Snow and the two otters climbed on. As soon as they were ready, I raised my hoof and off they went. Snow would drag the leaf back to the top. There, he and the otters would hold it while I got on.

  Sometimes I got on. Most times it started sliding. Snow, Joe Bob, and Linda Sue just weren’t heavy enough to hold me. So all four of us would go flying down the hill, sprawled out on our bellies. I never had so much fun.

  We were just preparing to make another run when suddenly Snow froze. Eyes tight, he looked toward a pine thicket not far from Chippy’s dam.

  “What is it?” I whispered.

  Snow’s lip curled on one side. He let out a little growl. “People. There by the trees. People are the most dangerous animal in the forest.”

  Stretching my neck toward the pines, I finally spotted what Snow was talking about. Jane and Jussy stood there, watching us. They pointed and giggled and laughed.

  “Those aren’t people,” I told Snow. “Those are Jane and Jussy.”

  Snow’s sharp little pointy ears perked. “Not people?”

  “Well, okay—they’re people. But they’re nice people. They won’t hurt us. Come on. Let’s slide some more.”

  Still keeping one eye on Jane and Jussy, Snow latched on to the edge of the giant leaf. I raised my foot to step on it. But before I could put it down . . .

  The sound of crashing limbs and brush came to our ears. Eyes wide, all of us spun to look at the trees where the two little people were.

  “Grrr . . . ow! Grrr . . . ow!”

  “Run!” Snow’s yap was shrill and high. “It’s Burly! He almost got my dad yesterday.” Snow took off for the far ridge. “Run!”

  Jussy and Jane must have heard the sound before we did. Both scrambled for the nearest pine and climbed as fast as they could. Jussy just barely got his legs out of the way when the huge grizzly bear skidded into the branches at the bottom of their tree. Growling and snarling, Burly stood up on his back legs and slapped at the boy above him.

  Jane screamed as she scrambled higher. Burly tried to climb up, but the fat old bear was too heavy for the small tree. Sitting on his haunches, he grabbed the pine with his front paws and shook it as hard as he could.

  “He-e-e-lp!” Jussy screamed. His legs dangled down, just inches from Burly’s reach.

  Burly roared and snarled. He was huge. I’d never seen an animal so big. Jane cried.

  She was so tiny. So helpless as she clung to the pine limb, just above the enormous, nasty old bear.

  Chapter 13

  Growling and snarling, Burly slapped at the dangling legs. Branches cracked. Pine needles flew through the air. Just at the last second Jussy tucked his knees up, out of Burly’s reach. Eyes big, he used every bit of strength to pull himself higher in the small pine and away from those long sharp claws.

  Burly was big—no, he was huge. He was mean and nasty. I could just barely see Jane’s bright fur, up high in the pine tree. But I could hear her cries and whimpers. Jane was little and sweet. She was always nice to me and Mother. She never, ever hurt us. All she did was feed us hay. She was so tiny and Burly was so big and . . .

  The huge bear took another swing at Jussy’s dangling legs. Once more he managed to pull them out of reach. Jussy fed me hay, too. He left the giant leaf, here by the pond, so I could slide and play and . . . and . . .

  Snarling and snapping, Burly grabbed the trunk of the little tree and shook it again.

  I felt my eyes squint. The muscles in my shoulders and legs drew up tight and hard. This wasn’t right! The two little people animals were sweet and gentle. They never did anything to that nasty old bear. It just wasn’t right for him to try and hurt them.

  I charged! My feet dug the snow. Puffs of white powder flew toward the sky. Hard and fast as I could, I raced toward the ferocious beast. At the last second I lowered my head and rammed the mean monster—right on his furry, hairy bottom.

  “Hhurrmph!”

  I don’t know what I expected. I guess I thought my mighty charge would send Burly tumbling away from the trees and away from Jane and Jussy. I didn’t want to hurt him, I just wanted him to leave the little people alone. He was supposed to get up, dust his fur off, and then run away.

  Only when I hit him the big bear didn’t budge. I did.

  My head hurt. Things kind of spun around as I bounced backward and went, kerplop into a snowbank on my rump. I blinked a couple of times to get my eyes to stop rolling around in my head.

  Ever so slowly—like he was looking for nothing more than a mosquito that landed on his fur—Burly turned.

  “Oh, a moose. So you think you can take on Burly Bear, do you?” His eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

  “The little people animals are my friends.” I tried to sound br
ave and strong as I struggled to pull my rump out of the snowbank. “Why are you mad at them? They didn’t do anything to you. Leave them alone!”

  When Burly just looked at me and licked his lips, I knew I was a goner. He lunged. I didn’t have time to run. I didn’t have time to dodge out of his way. Only his feet slipped in the snow. Even at that, he would have still gotten me if his shoulder hadn’t bumped against the pine tree trunk.

  Crack! Snap!

  Branches broke. Then more bent and crunched as the little boy people lost his grip and fell from the tree. Burly only took a step or two toward me when he heard the noise behind him. He spun around, just in time to see Jussy land, with a thud, in the soft snow.

  The second he turned toward the boy, I lowered my head and rammed him again. This time, as soon as I butted him, I wheeled around and took off running. “Look out, Moosie!” Jane screamed from the pine tree. “He’s going to get you. Justin, hurry. Climb back up the tree!”

  “I’ll get you, Moose!” Burly snarled. He was so close, I could almost feel his hot breath on the back of my legs. I ran harder. Burly growled. He was really mad now. I was in so much trouble . . .

  “Mommieeeee!” I hrronked. “Help!”

  “It’s too late for your mommy to save you,” Burly snarled at my heels. “You’re nothing but lunch now.”

  Running as hard as I could, I managed to stay just ahead of the nasty old bear. Then suddenly the snow beneath my feet felt different. I couldn’t get hold of it. I couldn’t run. All I could do was slip.

  My legs locked, but I still kept moving. I slid. Then I spun sideways. Then . . . I was going round and round and round. I slowed to a stop, just in time to see Burly come sliding past me. Flat on his belly, with all four legs sprawled out, he swished right on by and plowed into the snowbank on the far side of the pond.

  It took him a second to pull his head out of the white powder.

  I tried to turn and run back toward the pine trees, only nothing happened. My feet spun and churned on the slippery ice, but I didn’t go anyplace. Burly came toward me, once more. Only this time he didn’t run. He took one slow step at a time. I tried harder to run away. Even running as fast as my legs would go, I still didn’t get anyplace.

  Closer and closer, Burly closed the distance between us. He reared up on his hind legs. Slobbers dripped from his mouth. I trembled. He raised his huge paw. Sharp claws glistened. Then . . .

  Burly’s eyes flashed. He opened his enormous mouth, as if he were going to let out his horrible roar.

  Instead . . . nothing came out but a little squeak.

  Confused, I tilted my head to one side. Burly squeaked again, then wheeled around. When he spun away from me, I saw this ball of white fur attached to his rump.

  It was Snow!

  Snarling and growling, the little white wolf dug his teeth into Burly’s backside.

  “Run, Bub,” he mumbled. (It was hard to understand him because of all the bear fuzz he had clamped between his teeth.) “I got him. Run!”

  Burly turned his head to bite Snow. Only when he turned his head, his back end turned, too. Snow was just out of reach when the bear’s enormous jaws snapped shut. Burly whipped around the other direction. Again those sharp, nasty teeth just missed the little wolf.

  Burly reached back with his paw. I heard a little whimper as I saw Snow flying across the pond.

  Eyes tight and black as death, the huge bear turned back to me. I stared him square in the eye. No matter how mean and brave I tried to look—it didn’t work. I was scared.

  The ice seemed to shake beneath my hooves. I blinked and yanked my eyes away from Burly. Behind him there was a movement. Something big and brown and fast came flying down the bank and across the pond.

  “Leave my baby alone!” Mother hrronked.

  Almost before I even realized that it was her, Mother crashed into Burly.

  All three of us went whirling and spinning and sliding across the ice. We didn’t stop until we crashed into this pile of snow-covered logs and sticks. In a heap we landed tangled up against the big mound of limbs. I was on the bottom, Mother was on top of me, and Burly was . . .

  “Get off,” a strange little voice mumbled. Something wiggled beneath me.

  “What?”

  “Get off,” it mumbled again. “You’re smushing me.”

  It was Snow. I jerked and struggled, trying to get to my feet. Mother lunged and strained, trying to get off me. It was no use. We were so tangled with the logs and branches and with one another, we could hardly move.

  Slowly Burly wallowed to his feet. He licked his lips and smiled.

  “I’m in for a great meal. Two moose, a wolf, then when I finish up, there’s the two little people and—”

  “I’ve had about enough of this! All winter long, it’s the same old stuff. Knock my dam apart. Tear up my lodge. Stupid bear is supposed to be sleeping, and he just won’t leave us alone. I’ll probably end up as a beaver hat, but . . . I’m not taking this anymore!”

  The voice came from behind the pile of brush. Two furry faces, with long buckteeth, popped out and glared at Burly.

  “Me, neither! Let’s get him!”

  Chippy hopped over what was left of his beaver lodge and latched on to Burly’s little stub tail.

  “Grrr . . . yelp!” Burly slapped at Chippy.

  He finally hit him and sent him sailing across the ice. As soon as he did, Chippy’s wife hopped up and chomped down on his little stub tail. Burly howled again. He knocked her off, too, but the moment he did, Chippy came hopping and bounding across the ice, made a flying leap, and latched on to that tail again. Then Joe Bob came flying across the ice and latched on to the little toe on the bear’s left foot. Linda Sue got hold of his right ankle.

  The big bear shifted from one foot to the other, trying to make the mad beavers and the ferocious otters stop nipping at him. Snow managed to wiggle out from under me. He got to his feet and bit the bear on his other leg, then hopped back out of reach.

  A rock flew through the air and clunked Burly on the head. Then another rock came flying. Then there were sticks and stones and . . .

  “Justin, you get back up that tree, where it’s safe!”

  The people mother stood on the pond bank, throwing everything she could get her hands on at the nasty old bear. Jussy didn’t mind his mother. He stood right next to her, throwing rocks and limbs at Burly as fast as he could throw.

  Mother struggled to her feet. She pawed the snow and ice. She lowered her head at Burly and hrronked. I hopped up and stood bravely beside her.

  “Go on, get away from us,” I hrronked.

  “Yip, yip, yap, yap! Snow howled between nips at the old bear.

  Another rock clunked Burly on the head.

  Burly suddenly stood up. Eyes crossed, he blinked a couple of times and looked around. A beaver’s buckteeth were sunk into his tail, a white wolf leaped in and bit, then hopped out of the way. Another beaver and two otters bounded and pounced back across the pond toward the action. More rocks and branches flew through the air from the people on the bank. And a mother moose and a baby moose lowered their heads to charge.

  In the blink of an eye the big bear whirled around and raced toward the far side of the pond.

  Chippy dropped from Burly’s rear end at the edge of the ice. The big beaver puffed up his fur and stood, staring at the escaping bear. As soon as he let go and waddled back toward his lodge and the rest of us, two wolves appeared from the trees. They charged after Burly, nipping and biting at his heels with every step he took.

  Chippy slapped his flat tail down on the ice.

  “And let that be a lesson to you, you big . . . you big ball of stinky bear fuzz! Come around here again and we’ll gnaw you into little pieces!” Chippy’s wife looked very proud as she watched her husband.

  “Yeah, if you ever show your stinkin’ hide round here, again, the whole bunch of us’ll have bear stew for supper.” Joe Bob brushed his front paws together and spat in th
e snow.

  As Burly disappeared into the edge of the trees, we could hear him mumble.

  “I’ve never seen such a crazy place. No wonder I can’t get any sleep. First off, the people come in and build a ski lodge over my den. Then I’m attacked by a baby moose and a baby wolf. They’re supposed to be afraid of bears . . . not attack them. Even the people don’t run away, like they normally do. They start throwing rocks. A Mama moose tries to run over me. Then . . . on top of all that . . . two stinking little beavers start gnawing on my tail like it’s a willow tree. And a couple of otters try to chew my toes off. That’s it! I’ve had it! I’m out of here!”

  Snow’s mother and father nipped at his heels as he ran. “And don’t come back, either!” they howled.

  Everyone watched the far mountainside. At last we saw Burly’s huge, lumbering form as he broke from the trees and raced across the white, snow-covered clearing—one of the wolves still chasing him. Snow’s mother trotted across the frozen pond and stood next to her son. She sniffed him all over, to make sure he was all right, then she stood to watch.

  The huge, nasty, scary, old bear was nothing more than a brown speck by the time he finally disappeared over the crest of the mountain.

  As Burly vanished—forever—Snow’s daddy came trotting out of the trees. “Sorry we were so late getting here, Snow. Your mom and I came as quick as we could. I guess you were doing okay, though. You guys had things under control and didn’t even need . . .”

  He stopped talking. His eyes popped open big and his mouth gaped.

  Head tilted to one side, I couldn’t help but wonder what he was staring at. I looked around.

  Jussy and Jane stood right next to me. Their mother was right behind them. My mother and Snow’s mother stood on my other side. Snow was so close, he was practically under my hooves. In front of us, Joe Bob and Linda Sue watched as Chippy and his wife began to rebuild their lodge.