Canada Moose's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Canada Moose walked north until the pines thinned and the ground started to slope. He could hear water before he saw it. The creek ran clear over a bed of stones, winding between low banks. He stopped at the edge and listened for the crashing he had heard from his meadow. Nothing now. Just water. The grizzly could be a mile upstream or around the next bend. He did not know which, and walking the bank blind would put him nose to nose with claws. He followed the creek downstream until he found a place to cross. Three flat stones broke the surface, spaced for a smaller animal but steady enough for his hooves. He went over slow, one leg at a time, the jacket bunching at his shoulders. On the far bank he found what he was hoping for. A trunk stood beside the trail with four deep gouges cut into the bark, each one longer than his face. The cuts were fresh. Sap still beaded along the lower mark. The bear had come through here, and not long ago. Canada Moose backed away from the trunk and looked for high ground. He found it twenty paces up the slope: a small canvas tent left behind by hikers, the flap tied open, the poles still sound. From inside he could see a long stretch of the creek through the gap in the trees. He folded his legs and pushed his head and shoulders through the opening. His antlers caught the top seam and held. He stayed still. He could see the water. He could see the clawed trunk. He could see the bend upstream where the bank dropped away. He waited. The sun moved a hand's width across the sky. Then the willows up at the bend shook, and the grizzly walked out into the shallows. It stopped to drink. Canada Moose counted: one bear, upstream, on the far bank, drinking. He marked the spot in his head against the bent pine behind it. The bear finished, climbed the bank, and disappeared into the brush going north. Canada Moose let his breath out. He knew where the grizzly was now, and where the grizzly was not. He backed out of the tent, careful with the seam, and started walking upstream along the near bank. The story he wanted was waiting at that bend. He still had no plan for what to do once he got there.