The Last Polar Bear

Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Farlig – danger

Our time near land far behind us, we moved ever onward to the north. The ice had retreated back into the sea and we swam further distances to reach it. Finally, Solen finished his reign over the tundâr and slept. While he rested, his sister, Månen, unsettled by her lonely beauty, constantly changed and covered her face. Winter lay upon us, cooling the air with her icy breath. As we moved forward, we rested regularly to keep our warmth, protecting ourselves when she raged the most.

Since my first taste of flesh I had grown, but nowhere near the size of my brother. Nanna taught us many things, yet I was still too young to catch my first white-coat and thankful we were still able to feed on her milk. Even though she was an expert hunter, as she had warned, she was not always successful and, like Tórbjörn, I became increasingly frustrated.

Sometimes we had to wait for lengths on end just to catch a glimpse of a snub popping up from one of its breathing-holes in the ice, only to be rewarded with a wet paw. It amazed me how quick they were, their sleek, oily bodies cutting through the water like our claws through their flesh. Our only chance was to attack them on the ice where they are clumsy and awkward. But even then, Nanna used a surprise attack.

Nanna could sense our dissatisfaction and tried to turn every disappointment into a lesson, explaining why a kill had been missed or making it into a game. She taught us how to crawl on our bellies to get to a breathing-hole, without the thinner ice cracking. She also taught us how to break the ice when we needed to, by pounding it with our front paws. But I was not very good at this game. I was still too small – unlike my brother.

'Ha ha! This is fun! Look, Nanna, I've done another one. Look, Mika!' he called.

'Well done, Tórbjörn. You have the strength of your father,' she replied, but regarded my poor attempts with silence.

No matter how much I tried, I could not make any impact on the ice. I jumped up and down, pushing as hard as I could but to no effect. I watched Tórbjörn move to the next patch and pound his way through after three goes, the reward of water gushing up and spilling around his stomach. 'Remember what Nanna said – look at the colour of the ice first to see if it's thin enough. Let me know if you need my help!' he shouted. This just made me more annoyed. I knew what to do; I just could not do it. I felt the familiar rush of blood rise within me and in a fit of anger I let out an almighty growl I did not recognise. I rose up as high as my legs would take me and crashed down on the ice as hard as I could. My front paws plummeted through the ice and into the water and coming to an abrupt stop. I was stuck.

My hindquarters waggled in the air like a skydweller bobbing for slippery bait! I could not move. My front paws just waved before me as I tried to hold my breath. Mercifully, I felt a tug on my fur from above dragging me back to the surface. Nanna stood over me as I lay sprawled at her feet. Tórbjörn could not contain himself and lay on his back in gales of laughter. Nanna tried to look concerned but at the sight of me she fought to hold back her amusement.

'Well, at least you did it,' she said, trying to be sympathetic, but she gave in to her humour and chuckled along with Tórbjörn. I shook myself off in disgust, annoyed by their mocking. They could not stop. I looked between them and then down at the hole, imagining how pathetic I must have looked with my rear exposed to the sky. Eventually their mood caught mine and tamed it. I had to laugh too. Besides, she was right – I had done it!

Nanna said we should rest before moving on. I suddenly felt tired and welcomed the chance to feed from her. The sweet warmth of the milk made me feel better but I was still hungry for meat, as we had not tasted it for some time. Laying my head on the ice, I began to think about catching my first snub-nose, practising it over and over in my head. Each time, the white-coat was cunning, offering a different challenge and I met it with nonchalant ease, snapping its neck and growling in victory.

The skydwellers twirled in circles above my head signaling to the tundâr to come and witness my skill; bait leapt from the water with delight, spreading the word across the sea. Björn began to appear one by one, climbing out of the water, having travelled great distances to marvel at the sight. They lined in front of me, singing and honouring my name. Nanna appeared by my side smiling with pride. 'Go on,' she said, 'they are calling for you.' I picked up the limp snub in my jaws, and moved forward, showing off my fine kill.

Tórbjörn greeted me first. He congratulated me and then bowed to acknowledge my feat. I nodded to him as I passed, and continued to move between the other björn. They parted like a great floe of ice. All the while, my name echoed louder in my ears: Mika! Mika..! I nodded to each in turn. Suddenly, a huge björn came crashing through the crowd, jaws wide, brandishing his giant yellow teeth before sinking them deep into my neck...

'Mika! Mika! Would you wake?!' Tórbjörn took another frustrated bite. I jerked my head up, eyes filled with sleep, still recovering from the attack.

'What?' I said, pretending to be alert.

'I've been trying to wake you. Can't you smell that? The snub-nose are close.' He signalled, pointing his head to the east where Nanna waited. 'Come on, we must go. Now!'

I climbed to my paws and followed them, still in a groggy haze. Månen had turned to look upon us, slipping between the cover of the high clouds above. Her pale glow played with our shadows, stretching them out before us until she retreated, scared away by the disembodied cries that drifted across the plain. We could not yet sight our prey, but our noses told truths our eyes were only too keen to believe. The wind shifted around us toying with our scent, but we continued to the source of our hunger.

At last we found it. Skydwellers twirled in restless circles above our heads signaling to the tundâr, witnesses to the kill. It was a square-flipper, the largest and rarest of the snub-nose. Its shattered carcass lay on a patch sheltered from the wind by the ice form around it, mauled and bloodied from the recent slaughter. Tórbjörn and I ran to find what meat we could scavenge, happy for any opportunity to eat, oblivious to Nanna's hesitancy. She had stopped, nose in air, looking at the skydwellers above. 'They have not settled,' she said to herself. She snorted again trying to pick up any trace of scent.

'What is wrong?' I asked, finally sensing her concern.

'The skydwellers have not settled. Even before we came.'

'So?' said Tórbjörn between gritted teeth, trying to tear a small piece of red meat. Nanna took another gulp of air into her nose.

'We must leave. Hurry.' She rushed past us to a ledge of raised ice and turned to check we were following.

'What? We have only just started feeding!' my brother grumbled.

'Now, Tórbjörn!' she said in low voice. 'And be quiet...'

We did as we were told. Nanna's urgency worried me. I wanted to ask her what the matter was but I soon understood her concern. As we moved around the ridge a male björn lay half asleep, not thirty paces away. Sprawled on his side under the parting sky, the cold light dripped around him soaking the outline of his fur with an unnatural glow.

It was the first time I had seen another björn, other than my mother and brother, and I could not believe his sheer size. The long hair on his forelegs showed the brooding power of his age. His huge stomach rose and fell with each slow and fearsome breath. The light died again but from beneath his jaw I saw the white fur had been scratched away to reveal the black of his flesh: ragged lines raked all the way down one side of his neck which added to his menace. Although the sight of him scared me, I could not look away. He raised his head and looked at me with dark, dead eyes. I could not move.

Nanna must have seen me stop and came back. 'Run, Mika! Run!' Her voice returned my senses and I ran as fast as I could, all the while my mother willing me onwards. At last we stopped to rest. Panting, I dared to look back once more. I could see him – a mass in the distance. He had not moved. 'It is safe now,' Nanna managed, between gasps. 'He must be tired after his feed. He will not chase us.'

'Mother, who was that? Why did we have to run?' asked Tórbjörn.

'His name is Fargen. Some björn are best left alone.'

However, my brother was still not satisfied. 'But why–?'

'Enough!' Nanna roared. Tórbjörn and I flinched. She had never used that tone with either of us before. She looked away and calmed herself. 'We must make some distance before we can sleep.'