Chapter 7

Balto sat up in the trees just outside of Nome. Balto looked up at the steeple of the church. It was the only part of town he could see the rest was hidden behind trees. Balto looked down through the trees at the trail. It was nearly one hundred feet to the trail. The trail turned away from the bank, and dropped down onto the river ice.

It was late in the night, but Balto's eyes worked perfectly in the dark. The temperature was between thirty five and forty below. Balto's feet and nose were cold, and it bugged him. Balto could tell this by collecting slobber on his tongue, then letting it drop to the snow. If it froze before it hit the ground, it was less then forty below. If it didn't it was warmer then thirty five below. Balto's slobber only half froze.

Any moment the team was going to be coming up the trail, and down onto the ice. Balto knew they were coming because he had heard the musher, Sam, give the command to go moments earlier.

Balto kept his eyes fixated on the part of the trail where the team would come from. Then he heard it. He could hear the team's feet padding against the snow, the sled running making a constant groan as they slid across the snow. Balto could see the light from the directional lantern first; the directional lantern being a lantern with a piece of shiny mental in the back to direct the light.

Kaltag came into view, his eyes already fixated up into the woods. As soon as Kaltag could see Balto their eyes locked. Their eyes were kept locked, even as Kaltag dropped down onto the river ice. Just before Kaltag went out of view, he broke the stare and ran off, the lantern light shining over the dogs and off into the night.

Balto stood, and turned around to begin his quest. Balto's large feet made it easy for him to run on the soft powdery snow. He ran along side the team for nearly an hour.

At the end of the hour the team was running great, and Balto had learned to cope with it. Balto would run a quarter to half mile ahead of the team. Then he would lay himself down in a thicket or log jam and analyze the air and wind.

He would smell the air coming down the valley, searching for the smallest trace of wolf. Balto would scan the hills searching for the smallest sign of wolves sitting up under a tree, or cave. The tops of the mountains were hidden behind large dark grey storm clouds. A light snow fell, and blew across the ground distorting his vision. This worried Balto, he felt that if he made a wrong decision the team would be exposed and killed.

The team would then come around the bend in the river below him. Their heads bound in the lantern light, their tongues hanging out their mouth, their breathes being audible for several hundred feet. Then the team would pass and Balto would duck down, just in case, and wait for them to vanish around the next bend in the river. Then Balto would repeat the process.

But after eight hours of running, Balto became tired. It was late in the night and his feet hurt, he was hungry, and he was cold. But that wouldn't stop him. He had to find Kodi, No matter what.

Balto pushed on, but a horrible thought kept creeping in his mind. He kept imagining kodi. He kept imagining the frozen foot sticking up out of the snow, and blood surrounding his body. He kept thinking of what he would do when he found the body. Would he cry? Would he break down? Or would he hunt the creature down? Balto kept imagining himself running after the cowing wolf, then knocking him to the ground and ripping his throat out. Every time he thought about it, a shiver would go down his spine. It felt so good.

Balto had fallen behind the team, but he kept up at a good trot in there tracks. He figured that he was about a quarter mile behind the team. Balto kept putting his nose to the snow to sniff, and see how fresh the dogs scent was. He was in the middle of one of his visions of himself killing the wolf when it happened. A low howl came across the land. Balto triangulated the sound off the cliffs and figured out that the howl was at least a half mile ahead. Balto picked up his trout. Another slaughter was beginning.