Wolf Down!
Kemo sighed for the umpteenth time and continued to pace his den. His argument with his brother . . . former brother, he corrected, had unnerved him almost as much as it had Balto. It was unusual for him to completely lose his composure, but this situation certainly seemed to justify his actions. Then why am I so confused? Unable to reach a conclusion, he left his den and began to walk. The night was frigid, but he took no notice. He didn't bother to follow his usual paths, nor did he care. He knew every tree and every rock. This was his element. He continued to trudge through the snow, almost completely walling off the rest of the world. So isolated was he in his thoughts that he jumped in surprise when he felt a furry shoulder against his own.
"Kiska! What are you doing here?" he growled. He saw Quinault, Andan, and Tandera behind her.
The neighboring pack leader bowed low. "I am embarrassed to say this, but it is my duty to inform you that you have entered Anvil Creek territory."
Anvil Creek? How could I have gotten that far off course? "Are you evicting me?"
"Of course not. You are welcome, but you seldom venture this far into our territory, and never at night. Nor are you easily caught off guard. Is something troubling you?"
"No."
She stared intently at him, but finally nodded. "We shall leave you then. Go where you please, but do not venture too far west. That takes you into the territory of Eagle Pass Clan and beyond our aid. They've been expanding and we have not the strength to fight them . . . yet." She looked at her packmates. "We go east." The four wolves turned to leave.
Kemo spoke suddenly. "Kiska?"
She turned to face him again. "Yes?"
The white wolf sighed. "My path is no longer clear to me. I no longer know who or what to believe."
This sudden revelation startled Kiska and the others momentarily. "Quinault, take the others and continue on patrol. I will catch up." When they disappeared, Kiska cocked her head curiously. "That is not like you. You have always been the most decisive, level-headed leader I know. What has happened?"
"We have been betrayed."
"By who?" Kiska asked, recoiling in shock.
"One of our own. Balto."
Kiska shook her head emphatically. "Not possible. Balto has ever been our most trusted ally."
"Perhaps in the past, but I learned . . ."
"From who?"
"Eyak."
"Eyak!" she exclaimed, her disgust evident. "Bah! How can you believe him over your own brother? Especially after what he tried to do to your niece?"
"Balto admitted it, that's why! And I will thank you to mind your own affairs."
Kiska nodded. "My apologies. Perhaps I spoke out of turn, but please do not grow angry, my friend. I simply seek the truth. What has he allegedly done?"
"The human, the important one, has been staying with him ever since we first discussed our human problem with him."
Kiska frowned. "That is odd. Tutchone told me that Balto was the first to warn of the human's arrival, and it is unlike Balto to be anything but completely forthright. He must have supplied a reason."
"Yes. He was protecting the human and its dogs from what we might do."
The young pack leader shook her head. "Yet you have failed to say where his betrayal lies. True, he has not told the entire story, and to doubt our integrity is insulting, but his logic is sound. There are some within my own pack who would call for war if they knew this. I see no treachery."
"He betrayed our trust! If the truth has eluded him once, who knows how many lies he has fed us!"
"You know."
The simplicity of her answer dumbfounded him. "What?"
"You know. Has Balto ever told us anything not in our best interest? In fact has he ever done anything that led to the harm of even one wolf?"
"No."
"Until now, would you have trusted anyone's word over Balto's?"
"No."
Kiska sat back. "Then perhaps you should consider that before jumping to conclusions."
Like a scolded puppy, Kemo shifted uncomfortably. "Do you still trust him after this lie?"
"Not a lie. Simply an abbreviated truth."
"Same difference."
"In that case, yes. I would trust your brother with my life and the lives of all in my clan."
"I will consider your words."
Kiska nodded and sniffed the air. "Smells like severe weather is coming. As she walked away, she stopped and looked earnestly at him. "Take care of yourself."
Kemo watched her vanish into the trees, sighed wistfully, and began to walk again. His mind was still in turmoil. Balto betrayed my trust. But if that's true, why do I feel so bad about how I treated him? It must be difficult having two kinds, I'll grant him that. So why am I so angry? He thought for a moment on this. "Balto doesn't trust me. That is the issue. Why, he didn't even want his daughter to meet me; it's not like I haven't dealt with puppies before . . ." He stopped in his tracks. Is that it? Am I jealous because Balto has a family and I do not? But that's impossible! The more he thought about that, the more it disturbed him. Jealousy? The mere notion repulsed him. He tried to shake the thoughts away, but failing at that, he turned toward the human camp. What is done is done. I should do something worthwhile rather than pondering such things.
Kemo crept far closer to the human camp than he'd ever dared. He knew this was reckless, but he needed more information on the camp if he was to do anything. There were a couple of campfires still burning, with a few armed men tending each one. The camp's two sled teams were also huddled there, but their attention was on the fire, not him. The white wolf smiled. No wolf pack would ever leave itself so open. A wolf's senses are alert at all times.
"Can we help you?" a rough voice asked from behind him.
Alert at all times, huh? This really isn't my night."Thank you, but no. I was just leaving." He looked around and saw three malamutes and two huskies behind him. This is not good.
"I don't think so, Lobo," one of the huskies said.
"You wouldn't want to be a bad guest, would you?" the other asked.
They began to gradually close their arc, herding him toward the camp. He could take on two or maybe three, but the rest of the camp would be on him as soon as the fight started. And it was beginning to look like running was going to be difficult. "Hey, I was only looking. I've never seen so many humans before. Now how about I go now and we forget all about it. After all, Balto wouldn't like it if one of his friends got hurt." There. That should satisfy them. What dog would cross the Great Balto?
One of the huskies gulped. "He's right, Barrow. If Balto heard, we'd be dead meat."
"Easy, Prudhoe. There ain't any proof that he's telling the truth. Even if he is, you know as well as me that dead wolves tell no tales," the malamute said with a malicious sneer. "No survivors, no problem."
Kemo watched them closely. "There's also another saying. Three can keep a secret if two are dead."
"Maybe you should learn to count, Wolf. There's five of us, and it ain't us who're gonna be dead."
Not good. "The point still stands. I sincerely hope that one wolf is worth all five of your lives. Balto would likely hunt down anyone who killed me. He tends to grow very angry with any who hurt his family."
The dogs hesitated a moment before bursting into laughter. "Family, is it?" the leader asked. "Next thing he'll be telling us he's Balto's mother."
Kemo regarded them with clear disdain. "No, his brother."
"Look, Wolfie. Everyone knows Balto is a half-breed. Ain't no way a full wolf is his brother. Let's put this varmint out of his misery."
"I don't know about this, Barrow," Prudhoe interrupted.
"Yeah," another added. "What if he's telling the truth?"
He looked around his circle. "Even a flea-bitten half-breed mutt like Balto has a sense of decency. If you were him, would you want this lobo here claiming he was family?"
The other husky shook his head. "No."
"Then think of it as doing him a favor by ridding this wolf of his wild fantasies."
Kemo continued to retreat. "Look, fellows. I really do not want any trouble."
"Too bad, wolf. You've got it anyway. Let's get him!"
Time to even the odds a bit. Kemo sprang forward with uncanny speed, bit down on the malamute's neck and shook his head. The dog fell to the ground bleeding and Kemo took off while the other four dogs were still in shock. He only got a few second lead. His attack had drawn the attention of the men and dogs in the camp. The dogs ran to cut his escape route. The loud report of a rifle echoed through the trees and the snow exploded in front of him. A few more shots were fired, but none came close. He quickly shifted direction to avoid the ambush. He sprinted into the trees toward Anvil Creek territory.
Luckily, his lifetime training had granted him great stamina and speed, and one by one, his pursuers dropped back until only the original four were keeping pace. His muscles burned, and his lungs cried for air. He saw a sled on one of the trails and angled toward it. If he could get the four dogs tangled with those in the harness, the chase would be over. If not . . . well, the chase would be over anyway, one way or another. To his dismay, the musher halted the dogs and unslung a rifle as he drew closer. Too late to turn back now. He saw the man pull the trigger but heard only a muffled pop. Then another, then another, then another, all seconds apart. One by one, the four dogs seemed to lag before collapsing to the ground. He put on an extra burst of speed and jumped the sled. As he landed, he heard another pop and felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. Moments later, his legs became sluggish and his head light. So this is what it's like to die. He sank to the ground and his vision began to fade as he heard the approaching crunch of human boots on snow. Forgive me Jan. I've failed you again.
Balto was sleeping fitfully. Now his slumber was troubled by something more than his all-too-common dream of wolves and ravens. Suddenly his dreams were pierced by a gentle nudge and his eyes snapped open. He expected to see Jenna leaning over him, wondering what was troubling him. Instead, he saw a gray head leaning over his; a head with pointed ears, a long narrow muzzle, and sharp teeth. With a startled cry, he sprang at the intruder, pinning her to the floor. Breathing heavily, he quickly realized the intruder wasn't a stranger. "Tricksy?! What are you doing here?"
"Well! Talk about your warm welcome!" Tricksy exclaimed. "Aren't you at least going to say hello before jumping all over me?"
"Don't you know what time it is?"
"Human time or wolf time?" she quipped. "It's about three human hours until sunrise, but . . ."
"Tricksy! What are you doing here?"
"You already asked me that. So instead of sitting there on top of me, how about letting me up to explain. It wouldn't be good for you or me if Jenna saw us like this."
Balto moved aside and let her climb to her feet. "Whatever it is, it'd better be good. I have enough trouble getting sleep as is."
"Kemo's down."
"Why should I care how he's feeling, especially at this hour of night?" Balto yawned.
"No! I mean he's down!"
That brought Balto to full consciousness. "Down?! You mean down as in 'dead'?"
"Yes!"
"When?"
"A couple of hours ago . . ."
"How?"
"Slow down! I don't know how exactly. Kiska's scout Chehalis witnessed Kemo being chased by four dogs, and a human shot them and Kemo. The human carried Kemo's body away. Chehalis thought you should know. He would have helped, but his group arrived too late."
"Did he say how badly Kemo was hit?"
"He couldn't tell. The weapon the human used was unlike any he'd ever heard. No loud bang or anything, and the wounds showed only traces of blood. I'm not sure I should tell you this, but it's always good to be optimistic. The four dogs that went down were still breathing when Chehalis investigated. He didn't say much about them."
Balto set his jaw firmly. "Come on, Trix. I want to find out why those dogs were chasing Kemo if they're still there. Then we find out where he was taken."
"We're getting close now," Tricksy said in a hushed tone.
Balto nodded. They had been running for half an hour and were deep into Anvil Creek territory. He was beginning to lose hope of interrogating the dogs that had chased Kemo; they would likely be long gone by the time he and Tricksy arrived. "All right, let's split up. Keep your eyes, ears, and nose out for any signs. Meet back here in ten minutes."
Without a word, Tricksy angled away and disappeared from sight. Balto continued on his present course. In spite of his wolf-tuned senses, he was unable to locate anything. Disappointed but still optimistic, he hurried back to the rendevous hoping that Tricksy would bring better news. He arrived close to the appointed time but saw no sign of Tricksy. After five minutes he began to feel uneasy. Ten minutes and he was seriously worried. He stood up and began to follow her trail. Five minutes into the search, he found her curled up at the base of a large pine, paws covering her eyes.
"This is no time to take a nap, Trix." When she didn't respond, he cautiously approached her in case she was playing one of her infamous tricks. "Tricksy? What's wrong?"
She finally looked up, her face streaked with tears and looking very ill. Very unlike her usual self.
"Th . . . th . . . the clearing," she stammered, body quivering furiously.
"The clearing? What about it? Did you find the dogs?"
Tricksy shuddered. "All over the place."
"What are you talking about? What did you see?"
"W . . . wolf kills."
Wolf kills? "What's the matter with you, Trix? You've hunted before, and I know you've seen dead game. I saw you take down a caribou without getting upset."
Tricksy shuddered. "This is different, Balto. Look for yourself."
Balto quickly turned away from the grisly sight and tasted bile. After leaving Tricksy, he had thought he was prepared for anything. Wrong again. He forced his stomach back down and steeled himself against what he knew he was going to see again. He took a second glance and wished he hadn't. The victims weren't caribou. They were the dogs he'd been searching for, or more to the point, what was left of them. They were badly mangled, two almost beyond recognition. All four were from Nome; thugs that had been known for their deep hatred of wolves. How they got tangled up with Kemo, and how they came to this fate, he couldn't begin to guess. He began to search the area for any sign the attackers might have left.
Tricksy joined him in spite of her better instinct. "What pack could've done this?" she asked.
Balto sniffed the bloody pawprints and gulped. "Anvil Creek."
Tricksy started. "What? That's impossible!"
"You know as well as I do that every pack has its own unique scent. Most of the tracks are too mixed up to tell, but the ones I can make out smell like those of Kiska's band."
"But why?" she asked. "Kiska is very peaceful. She would never allow this."
"I don't smell Kiska anywhere. She may not have known." Balto sighed. "This is a dead end."
Tricksy winced. "Affirmative."
Balto's face was set with grim determination. "Let's find that human's trail and follow it. We have some business to settle with him."
