The Missing Grizzly Cubs Page 3

  With each twist, each turn, each buck, the bear gained more control. Then, in one quick motion, it forced the caribou’s head to turn, giving the bear just enough room to dodge its head under an antler. Buck and Toni watched, wide-eyed, as the grizzly clamped its teeth tight into the caribou’s neck. The caribou bucked violently, but now the bear’s weight was on top of it. The massive grizzly wrestled the majestic caribou down into the rushing water. Then, its teeth still biting into the caribou’s neck, the bear savagely shook its head until the caribou’s body went limp.

  Buck thought the bear would let go, but it didn’t. It easily pulled the dead caribou through the water to the edge of the gravel bar. Then, moving backward, the bear struggled to drag the heavy carcass halfway up onto the gravel bar before it started to feed.

  Buck had been holding his breath the whole time. He had been so mesmerized, he hadn’t even noticed that Toni had taken his camera from his hand.

  “Holy cow,” he said again. “Did you see how he hung on? It was like watching a rodeo.”

  “Got the whole thing on video,” Toni said, keeping the camera aimed at the bear.

  “Look at him eating. He’s just ripping the meat off of it. And did you see how fast he ran?”

  Buck’s words had left his mouth without thinking, but both he and Toni instantly grasped their implication.

  “We’d better get out of here!” Buck said.

  TAKE 4:

  “A GRIZZLY’S FRONT PAWS CAN BE SEVEN INCHES LONG, ITS BACK PAWS ELEVEN INCHES. AND THAT DOESN’T INCLUDE ITS FIVE-INCH CLAWS!”

  It was difficult to walk through the woods without a path. Buck and Toni soon had to return to the riverbed, but they stayed close to the bank. Frequently looking over their shoulders, they walked quickly back upstream. They carefully eyed every willow thicket and were spooked by each leaf that wiggled, worried a bear might charge out at them.

  Alongside the river, the forest was a solid wall of spruce and willows. The two had walked for quite a long time, and now Buck’s eyes followed the edge of the forest, searching for any sign of a small path that cut through the dense woods.

  All the way through Alaska, the spruce forests had reminded Buck of the evil forests in fairy tales. Snow White, Little Red Riding Hood, and Hansel and Gretel wandered through forests like these. Forests with short thin trees crammed together so tightly, light could barely penetrate them. Forests where kids got lost. Forests where big bad wolves ate children. Buck knew those stories were make-believe, but the Alaskan forest was real. He was in a place where a bear really could devour a child. Yet he had not even left bread crumbs from his sandwich to show his way back. And worse, he had paid absolutely no attention to where he’d jumped down onto the gravel bar, how far they’d gone downstream, or how far they had come back upstream.

  Buck glanced at Toni. She seemed unconcerned with finding her way back, but there was no way he was going to ask her if she knew where the path was. He looked around, trying to see something he recognized. There were willow thickets all over, but one just to his right was about the same distance from the bank as the one Toni had pointed to from the path. He looked intently at the riverbank. There was no visible path.

  Remembering the compass in his pocket, he pulled it out. The needle swung around and stopped. It pointed downstream. That’s north, Buck thought, but it doesn’t give me any idea of where the path is. He wondered what the junior ranger booklet said about compasses, but he wasn’t going to ask Toni that, either.

  “Hey, look,” Toni said, pointing behind them. “Who’s that?”

  Buck looked back just in time to see a man step up from the riverbed and disappear into the trees.

  “Let’s follow him,” Buck said, a feeling of relief sweeping over him. Keeping his eyes on the spot where he last saw the man, Buck ran back downstream. Toni followed. Soon they both stepped up onto a path barely visible from the riverbed.

  It wasn’t the same path they had come down. The Green Beast was not at the end of it, but it did lead them back to Tek Campground. Just before the path entered a campsite, Buck stopped so suddenly, Toni ran into him. He grabbed Toni’s arm and quickly pulled her with him behind a bush, out of sight from the campsite. Then he peeked out.

  A small blue tent was set up on the other side of the picnic table. A big black car was parked in the drive. On the hood of the car sat a bright red backpack.

  “That was him,” Buck whispered.

  “Who?” Toni whispered back.

  “The guy on the riverbed was the same guy who was at the airport. The one who got mad when Shoop took the wrong case.”

  “How do you know?”

  “That’s his backpack.”

  “That could be anybody’s backpack. It’s a common brand.”

  “No, I know it’s his. It has a bear claw hanging from the zipper pull. I wonder what he’s doing here.”

  “He came to Denali. What’s so mysterious about that? Lots of people come here.” Toni started to walk out from behind the bush, but Buck grabbed her arm to stop her.

  “He might be in the tent,” Buck whispered. The tent’s entry flap was rolled to the side and tied open, but the inner mosquito mesh was zipped closed. The mesh created a dark shadow, making it impossible to tell if anyone was inside.

  “Who cares if he’s in there?” Toni said.

  “There’s something suspicious about him.”

  “I didn’t see anything suspicious about him. He just didn’t want the wrong case.”

  “But he was staring at us at the airport. I saw him.”

  “Lots of people stare at your dad. He’s kind of famous, you know. Come on.” Toni jerked her arm from Buck’s grasp, walked along the edge of the campsite, and stopped on the campground road.

  Buck stared at the tent. Not seeing any movement, he left the bush, but instead of politely skirting the edge of the campsite like Toni did, he walked right into the middle of it. Scurrying between the fire ring and picnic table, he headed straight to the car. His eyes never left the backpack sitting on it.

  “Wicked,” Buck said as he closely inspected the bear claw hanging from the backpack. It was black, nearly five inches long, and curved to a sharp point. A gold wire was wrapped neatly around the top and looped through the zipper pull. Buck reached out and touched the point, his mind replaying the sight of a huge brown paw with five claws easily ripping open the underbelly of the dead caribou.

  “Come on!” Toni called out, waiting for Buck beside the campsite post.

  “You need to come see this!” Buck said. “It’s awesome. You won’t believe how sharp it is.”

  “You shouldn’t be messing around with other people’s things,” Toni said, but hurried back toward the car. She joined Buck, touched the tip of the claw, and then quickly said, “You’re right, it is awesome, but let’s go, okay?”

  “Just a second.” Buck snapped a close-up of the bear claw. He was going to take another photo of the claw lying across his palm when a voice yelled out behind him.

  “Leave my stuff alone!”

  Buck’s head shot up. No one was in sight, but a man’s voice came from behind the zipped mesh door. “And get out of here!”

  Buck and Toni both tore out of the campsite. But as he passed the car’s window, Buck glanced in. On the backseat sat the black case with the long scratch down the side.

  “I told you he was acting suspicious,” Buck said when they slowed down.

  “No, he just didn’t want you in his campsite,” Toni said.

  Buck ignored her comment. “He had the black case in the car. I wonder if a bear made the scratch on it.”

  “I doubt it,” Toni answered. “But I do know one thing. Rek picked a bad campsite.”

  “Who’s Rek?”

  “Rek Malkum. That’s the guy’s name.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It was on the tag on the campsite post,” Toni explained. “And he has Site Thirteen. An unlucky number.”

  Lucky for us th
ough, Buck thought but said nothing to Toni. Number thirteen is in the first loop. So back on the riverbed, we walked right past our path and never even saw it.

  They walked out of the first loop, down the short stretch of road that connected it to the second loop, and entered that section of the campground without saying a word. The whole time Buck kept fidgeting with the camera in his pocket.

  “We’re going to have to tell them, you know,” Toni said, breaking the silence.

  “Yeah, I know, but Dad’s not going to be too happy. He probably won’t even let me step out of the Green Beast after what we saw.”

  “But we got a good video of the bear killing the caribou. Maybe that will help.”

  “Do you think Shoop can use it? My camera isn’t a very good one.”

  “I’m sure he can.”

  When they got to the Green Beast, a ranger’s truck was there. Shoop was standing at the far end of the picnic table, his camera equipment scattered all over. Dad and Craig were sitting on the bench, scripts pushed to one side and a huge map spread out in front of them.

  “Hey,” Dad said without looking up. His total attention was on the map.

  “We saw a grizzly!” Buck announced. That instantly got everyone’s attention.

  “Where?” Craig demanded without any hesitation.

  “Downstream.” Buck turned on his camera and put it on the table. Everyone crowded around.

  “Holy Toledo!” Shoop said when the bear first lunged at the caribou. They all watched in awe, but when the video ended, Dad was as angry as a bear. He jumped up from the table and roared at Buck.

  “What in the world were you doing down there? Didn’t I just tell you this morning how dangerous this country is?”

  “You didn’t say not to go out on the riverbed,” Buck said. “You just said we had to stay together.”

  Every vein on Dad’s forehead stood out as he tried to contain his anger. Shoop and Craig also looked furious.

  “Your dad’s right: you were in a very deadly situation,” Craig said. “This isn’t an amusement park. Wildlife can be extremely dangerous.”

  “We saw the caribou first and went back into the woods to watch it,” Buck said. “The bear never saw us.”

  “That means nothing,” Craig said. “If the breeze had been blowing the other direction, the bear would have smelled you long before you even saw it. And you would be much easier prey to take down than a caribou. But right now I need to know exactly where the kill was.”

  “Downstream, just before where the river bends to the right,” Toni said.

  Craig went to his truck, opened the door, and grabbed a two-way radio.

  “We’ve got a situation here,” he said into the radio. “A grizzly took down a caribou on the Teklanika, downstream from the campground where the river bends. Meet me there with a chopper.” He put the radio back, then pulled out a rifle and a hard-sided black case.

  “Are you going to kill it?” Buck asked.

  “No, we don’t kill bears unless they attack a human. I’m going to tranquilize it, and then it will be taken deeper into the park.”

  “Why?” Toni asked.

  “Normally, we don’t interfere with wildlife. That bear was just doing what bears do, but it’s too close to the campground. It will be very protective of its kill, and if someone goes walking downstream, it could be deadly.”

  Shoop had his camera and was snapping in a battery pack before Craig even finished talking. “Okay if I tag along to film it?”

  Craig nodded. Buck looked at Dad.

  “Can Toni and I go too? Please?” he begged.

  “You don’t really deserve to go,” Dad said in a sharp voice.

  “This isn’t the time for punishment,” Shoop said. “He has to be in the shot.”

  Shoop turned on the camera and pointed it at Craig. Craig took a tranquilizer dart from the case. It had a long thin needle attached to what looked like a syringe. It didn’t look much different from what the doctors used for shots, except the syringe had a bright orange end. Craig loaded it into his rifle.

  “Okay,” Dad said, “but mind what we say.”

  Shoop turned to Buck. “This is your first shoot, dude. Go get your shirt.”

  Buck peeled off his T-shirt as he raced into the Green Beast. He came out, buttoning a khaki shirt with THE WILD WORLD OF BUCK BRAY stitched over the pocket in green thread. From his neck hung a pair of binoculars.

  Craig and Dad were already heading down the path. Shoop strapped on a belt with all sorts of equipment hanging off it. Light sensors, cables, and small round cases with lenses and filters in them all clinked against one another.

  “Toni, grab the shotgun,” Shoop instructed.

  “You have a gun?” Buck asked Toni.

  Toni flipped the latches on Shoop’s hard-sided black case and took out a metal pole. She also grabbed a pair of earphones and put them around her neck.

  “He’s talking about this,” she said. “A shotgun microphone. It telescopes out, making it longer. There’s a mic on the camera, too, but this picks up sound better because you can aim it right at the source.”

  “How do you know all this stuff?”

  “This is my first big project with Shoop, but I help him out all the time on smaller projects.”

  “Wow, you’re lucky,” Buck said. “I’ve never been with my dad on a shoot. I’ve only seen his shows on TV after they were all done.”

  Buck and Toni quickly caught up with the others. This time, as they jumped from the path to the riverbed, Buck looked around for a landmark. Seeing nothing that stood out, he quickly stacked several large rocks on top of one another near where they jumped down from the path.

  TAKE 5:

  “A BEAR’S SENSE OF SMELL IS OVER TWO THOUSAND TIMES BETTER THAN A HUMAN’S. THEY CAN SMELL A CARCASS TWENTY MILES AWAY! MMMMM! SMELLS LIKE DINNER!”

  They headed down the riverbed, keeping close to the bank. As they walked, Craig, Shoop, and Dad kept up a steady stream of brainstorming, but Buck scoped out the riverbed with his binoculars.

  “There he is!” Buck exclaimed when he finally spotted it. Everyone stopped. Through the binoculars, Buck could see the bear was no longer feeding. It was pushing rocks and dirt up over what remained of the caribou carcass.

  “We need to step into the woods. I don’t want it to see us,” Craig said. Everyone followed Craig up the riverbank and into the forest. “And remember, safety is number one. You guys can’t get any closer. You’ll have to stay here, way upstream. I’ll need to get a little closer to be within this gun’s range.”

  “No problem. My zoom is phenomenal,” Shoop said.

  “Is it safe enough to do a quick shoot with you and Buck out on the riverbed and the bear in the background?” Dad asked.

  “From this distance it will be okay,” Craig answered. “If we stay close to the bank and do it quickly.”

  Dad started directing. “Craig, just tell what the bear’s doing. Anything you can think of. Buck, after he’s done, I want you to add whatever comes into your head. No time to write scripts for this. Anything you need them to do, Shoop?”

  “Yeah,” Shoop said. “I know you won’t shoot from here, but I want you to turn and aim your gun toward the bear. When I mix the shots, it will look like you tranquilized the bear from here.”

  Buck didn’t say a word while the men were talking, but then whispered to Toni.

  “What does he mean, mixing the shots?”

  “It’s like cut and paste on a computer. He rearranges shots so they’re how he wants them to be.”

  Toni put on the earphones and extended the shotgun mic through the trees just to the edge of the riverbed. Dad held up a whiteboard out in front of the camera. On it, he had written, Caribou Kill, Take 1.

  Shoop said, “Action.”

  Buck and Craig jumped down to the riverbed and looked back at the camera. A little red light was on.

  “That grizzly has eaten its fill of the caribou and is now making
a food cache,” Craig started, “covering it up to finish eating later. Other than a sow protecting its young, this is the most dangerous time to come across a bear. That boar will kill to protect its cache. We’re more than half a mile away. It’s not safe to get any closer.”

  Shoop turned the camera toward Buck. Buck didn’t hesitate. He knew exactly what he was going to say.

  “You have to remember, we’re not on top of the food chain here in Denali!” he said, looking straight at the camera’s red light. Then Craig turned and pointed the rifle in the direction of the grizzly.

  “That’s a wrap,” Shoop said. The camera’s red light went out as Buck and Craig reentered the forest.

  “I’ll whistle when I’m about ready to shoot,” Craig said, then slipped through the trees until he was out of sight. It wasn’t long before Buck heard Craig’s signal. It sounded like a bird calling. Dad held up the board again, this time stating, Caribou Kill, Take 2, and the camera’s red light lit up again. Dad whistled back at Craig, and Shoop got ready with the camera.

  Buck looked through his binoculars. He expected to hear a gunshot, but there was no sound. Instead he saw the grizzly suddenly flinch. It immediately stood upright on its hind legs and sniffed at the air. It let out a loud roar and, dropping back to all four feet, sprang into a run toward the bank.

  “Holy cow!” Buck called out. “We’d better run!”

  Buck had been so intent on the bear, he hadn’t noticed Craig coming back through the woods to join them. Buck nearly jumped out of his skin when Craig reached out and took him by the arm.

  “Stay still,” he said. “Never run from a bear. Running sets up the bear’s instinct to chase, and you can’t outrun a bear. But you don’t have to worry this time. The tranquilizer is taking effect.”

  The grizzly went only a few steps before it staggered and stumbled. It stood up again, wobbled, and then slowly sank to the ground, lying perfectly still.