Bear (3 page)

Lizzie ran after Fern, stumbling on her snowshoes. When they got to the house, each girl grabbed one of the big metal snow shovels propped by the door. They began to flail away, trying to chop through the towering piles of snow that had slid off the roof. Lizzie was surprised by how dense — icy and heavy — the old snow was. It wasn’t at all like the fluffy fresh snow that fell all around them.

The door flew open. “What’s going on?” Cordelia stared at the girls.

“Bear might be under here!” Lizzie didn’t even stop digging. “This snow just slid off the roof today.”

Cordelia’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my.” She closed the door for a moment, then reappeared wearing a jacket. She pulled on a pair of leather work gloves. “I’ll take a turn with one of those shovels.” She held out her hand.

Lizzie handed over her shovel. Her arms were already sore. She walked away from the spot where they’d been digging and tilted her head toward the pile of snow. “Bear?” She tried to listen. “Are you in there?” Lizzie’s heart thumped. How could such a little puppy survive if all that heavy snow fell on him?

Then she thought she heard something. A whimper? Could it be? She held up her hand. “Stop for a sec!” When the shoveling noises stopped, the other noise became clearer. “Bear?” Lizzie could hardly speak. “Is that you?”

She heard another, louder whimper.

Lizzie bent to look beneath a huge slab of hardened snow. She saw one little blue eye peering back at her. Could it be? Yes, it was him! The
puppy was trapped in a little cave that must have been created when the snow slid off the roof. “Bear!” Lizzie threw herself down and peered into the space. “It’s him.” Lizzie turned to face the others. “Bear! Over here! I can see him. He’s under this slab.”

Cordelia and Fern ran over with their shovels and began to chip away at the chunks of snow. “Faster!” Lizzie urged. “He might be hurt.” She bent closer to whisper to Bear. “We’ll save you, don’t worry.”

Dad skied into the yard. He undid his bindings and ran over. “Bear’s under there?”

Cordelia nodded. “Lizzie can see him. But the snow is so hard right here. If we could only move this whole big slab —”

Dad grabbed the two snow shovels and shoved the end of each one under the slab. “Lizzie, get ready to push down on that one.” He bent all his weight over his shovel’s handle, and Lizzie hunched over hers. “One, two, three — push!”

The slab didn’t budge at first. Then it seemed to unlock from its frozen position. As it rocked up at an angle, Lizzie caught a glimpse of something black and gray and white and fluffy. “Bear!” She felt tears spring to her eyes. “Oh, Bear.”

Cordelia reached in and snatched Bear out of his safe little cave. Lizzie and Dad let the slab fall back into place.

“Is he okay?” Lizzie reached out to him gently. “Is he hurt?”

Cordelia ran her hands all over Bear’s furry body. “I don’t think so.” She looked up at Lizzie. “Can you believe it? I think he’s totally fine!”

“He doesn’t even look very scared.” Fern patted him, too. “Look, he’s yawning. What an adorable puppy!”

Dorothy brought out a blanket and wrapped Bear up tight. Sure enough, his pink tongue lolled out as he lay back in Cordelia’s arms, looking completely relaxed and happy.

What’s all the fuss? I knew you’d find me. So, is it time for dinner, or what?

Lizzie had to smile. Bear was a cool character, all right. Nothing seemed to rattle him. She kissed his soft furry face, and he licked her cheek.

“And it was Lizzie who figured out where he was!” Later, Dad called Aunt Amanda. He told her all about the day’s adventures. “Lizzie was the hero.”

Lizzie sat by the fire with Bear on her lap. She blushed. She didn’t
feel
like a hero. But she sure was glad that Bear was safe. Even Fern had said Lizzie was “brilliant” to have noticed how the snow had slid off the roof.

“Ask how Buddy is.” Lizzie waved at her dad. “Is he by the phone? Can I talk to him?” Something about Bear’s scary adventure made Lizzie miss
her puppy terribly. That’s why she had asked Dad to call Aunt Amanda.

Dad gestured to Lizzie. “He’s waiting to hear your voice.” He brought her the phone.

“Buddy? Is that you? Who’s a good little boy?” Lizzie heard a little snuffling sound on the other end. “Buddy?”

Aunt Amanda spoke up. “You should see him. His head is tilted in that really cute way. He definitely recognizes your voice.” She laughed. “So, how’s the skiing?”

Lizzie groaned. “I’m terrible at it,” she said. “All I do is fall down. But Charles is really good already!”

“Oh, well. Everybody’s got
something
they’re good at. It’s just a matter of finding the best fit for you.” Then Aunt Amanda giggled. “Buddy’s licking my chin.”

Lizzie laughed. “Give him a kiss for me, okay?”

“I will,” Aunt Amanda promised. “And you tell that cute little Bear to stay out of trouble.”

Lizzie gasped when she looked out her window the next morning. Snow covered everything in sight: the barn roof, the fences, the cars, the driveway, the mailbox. The snow was like a thick, fluffy quilt, outlining every tiny twig of every branch of every tree. Not only that, the sky was blue and the sun was shining, making the snow glitter like diamonds. It was like a fairyland.

Downstairs, Dad raced through his breakfast. “I can’t wait to get out there. The skiing should be fantastic today.”

“Yeah! Skiing.” The Bean waved a half-eaten pancake in the air.

“You want to ride in your sled again, don’t you?” Mom wiped syrup off his fingers.

The Bean nodded and smiled. “Yup. Skiing.”

“I’ll go,” Charles said. “I want to ski all the way around that long trail today.”

Lizzie looked down at her plate and drew her fork through a puddle of leftover syrup. Cordelia passed her a platter full of pancakes, offering seconds, but Lizzie had lost her appetite. “No, thanks.” She put down her fork. Everybody in her family was good at skiing — except her. Lizzie felt left out.

“You know,” Dorothy leaned toward Lizzie, “I’d be glad to loan you those snowshoes again if you’d like to take Bear out for a walk.”

“Really?”

“You’d be doing us a favor.” Cordelia agreed with her sister. “We’ve got a lot of cooking and cleaning to do today, and he’s just going to be underfoot.”

Lizzie beamed. “I’d be happy to!”

“Just make sure you hold on to his leash.”
Dorothy smiled at Lizzie. “We don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”

“I promise.” Lizzie crossed her heart.

As soon as she finished breakfast, Lizzie went to find Bear. He was snoozing by the fireplace again, but when she asked if he’d like to go for a walk, he got to his feet and stretched, yawned a big pink yawn, and waved his fluffy tail in the air.

I’ll go anywhere with you!

Lizzie pulled on her snow pants, jacket, and boots. She clipped on Bear’s red leash, then picked him up and tucked him inside her jacket with his head poking out. “I’ll carry you for a little while.”

Bear snuggled down cozily.

This is nice! More nap time for me.

By the time Lizzie got her snowshoes fastened, the rest of her family had taken off down the trail on their skis. “Be careful,” Mom called as she skied out of view, towing the Bean behind her.
Careful of
what? Lizzie thought. The storm was over, the sun was bright, and the only sound was the cheeping of the adorable little chickadees that flittered around the Harris sisters’ bird feeder.

Lizzie tromped across the yard on her snowshoes, feeling the warm weight of Bear nestled inside her jacket. It was fun to be off on an adventure of her own. She decided to try a different trail from the day before, just to see where it led. Cordelia had promised that she couldn’t get lost, since all the trails eventually circled back to the house.

The snow was light and fluffy, and when a little breeze shook it off the trees, it looked like diamond dust sparkling all around. Lizzie took a deep breath of the fresh, cold air. She
liked
it up here in Vermont.

When she got to the main trail, Lizzie turned right instead of following her family’s ski tracks to the left, the way she and Dad had gone the day before. “Let’s explore, Bear.” She unzipped her jacket and carefully lowered Bear to the snow. She held tightly on to his leash.

Lizzie trudged along quietly for a while and Bear romped beside her. He seemed totally at home in the snow. Once in a while he would duck his head and lick up a few flakes, or stick his nose into a soft snowbank and sniff hard, then jump back with a big sneeze, or fall onto his back and roll around happily, his pink tongue lolling out as he grinned up at Lizzie.

Welcome to my winter world!

Bear seemed to come to life when he was outside. No more yawning and napping. Now he zigged and zagged across the trail in front of Lizzie, pulling her along as he sniffed at this and
that. Then he began to pull harder, his nose to the ground and his tail held high. He sniffed harder than ever.

“What are you smelling?” Hadn’t Cordelia mentioned something about a moose that hung around sometimes? Lizzie wasn’t sure exactly what a moose looked like, but she knew they were huge. Bigger than horses. What if she ran into one, out here all alone? She remembered reading that the sled-dog racers in the Iditarod were always worried about meeting a moose on the trail.

Bear stood still for a moment and sniffed the air. His ears were on full alert. Lizzie could tell that he was using his super doggy senses to hear something that she could not hear and smell something she could not smell. Then Bear pulled so hard that he pulled Lizzie right off balance. She plopped down into the deep, unpacked snow on the side of the trail, still gripping the leash.

Lizzie struggled to get her snowshoes underneath her so she could stand up again. Bear pulled at the leash some more. His ears twitched madly as he sniffed and snuffled. Finally, Lizzie got to her feet. She could hear something, too. What was that? It sounded like a huge animal running down the trail toward her and Bear, breathing hard but moving silently.

Was it a moose? Lizzie almost didn’t want to look up as the breathing came closer.

Lizzie scooped Bear into her arms. She stepped off the trail and tried to hide behind a tree. She squinched her eyes shut. But then her curiosity got the better of her.

She opened her eyes.

And Lizzie saw the most amazing thing: a team of sled dogs, pulling a wooden sled!

A person in a red jacket stood on the sled’s runners. The dogs looked just like grown-up Bears. They weren’t barking or whining. They just trotted happily along, breathing hard in the cold, crisp air. Now that they were closer, Lizzie could hear the jingling of the tags on their collars.

“Easy! Easy, Denali! Easy, Sitka! Easy, dogs!”

Lizzie thought that voice was familiar. The dogs slowed to a stop, then stood panting. The driver tossed a big metal hook onto the snow. It was attached to a rope, like a ship’s anchor.

Bear was
entranced.
Lizzie let him down. He stared at the dogs, his tail wagging madly as he strained at the leash.

Wow! You guys are the coolest. I wish I could do that.

This was the most excited Lizzie had ever seen Bear. She tightened her grip on his leash. It was embarrassing enough to be hiding behind a tree without having her dog run off.

“Need some help?”

Now Lizzie remembered where she had heard that voice before. The sled driver was Fern! Of all people. Now Lizzie was really embarrassed. Fern was going to make fun of her again. “I’m — I’m fine,” she said, even though she was
floundering in the deep snow on the side of the trail.

“Those big, old-fashioned snowshoes are
impossible.
I trip and fall all the time when I wear them.” Fern grinned and stuck out a hand. “Come on.”

Maybe Fern wasn’t going to laugh at her. Maybe Fern was okay after all. Lizzie took the older girl’s hand and Fern pulled her back onto the trail.

“You’re a sled-dog driver?” Lizzie couldn’t believe it. How cool.

“Yep, I’m a musher.” Fern bent to say hello to Bear. “Hey, little sweetie! You seem to be totally recovered from your big adventure.” She petted him, then straightened up and looked at Lizzie. “I’ve helped raise a lot of dogs, but this little guy is really something special. He’s so confident.”

“I know.” Lizzie was about to ask if Fern knew anyone who was looking for a puppy, but Fern spoke up first.

“How about a ride?”

“Me? On the dogsled?” Lizzie stared at Fern. “Really?”

“Sure, why not? My dogs and I have been out for a couple of hours, so they’re tired and not nearly as wild as they can sometimes be. If we’d met you earlier in our run, I never would have been able to stop them, not even with my snow hook.” Fern yanked on the rope.

So
that’s
what the big metal anchor-thing was called. Lizzie looked at the wooden sled and then back at Fern. “So, I would ride in the sled while you stand behind me?”

“That’s right.” Fern smiled at Bear. “And you can tuck little Bear into your jacket so he’ll be safe. I have a feeling he’ll enjoy the ride, too.”

Fern walked Lizzie up the line of dogs. “These are Denali and Sitka, my lead dogs.” She pointed to each one. “Behind them are Kodiak and Juneau. And then we have Koyuk and Homer.”

Lizzie thought the dogs were beautiful, every
one of them. Some had one blue eye, just like Bear. They had curly tails like his, and pointy noses, and pointy ears. They were long-legged, strong-looking dogs. “Are these all huskies?” Lizzie thought they looked a little different from the husky on her Dog Breeds poster.

Fern nodded. “They’re Alaskan huskies, like Bear. Some people use Siberian huskies for their sled teams, but my dad and I like Alaskans. Some people say Alaskans are faster, some people say Siberians can run forever. I like Alaskans because they’re basically mutts. Their ancestors are Alaskan village dogs, with all sorts of other breeds thrown into the mix. Hunting hounds, Siberians, malamutes, even greyhounds!”

Lizzie was fascinated. She was about to ask some more questions, but Fern guided her toward the sled. Some of the dogs were starting to bark and jump around. “The dogs are getting restless.” Fern grabbed the sled. “We’d better get going, or they’ll take off without us!”

Lizzie unbuckled her snowshoes and Fern stowed them behind the passenger part of the sled. Then Lizzie tucked Bear into her jacket and zipped it up tight so he couldn’t wriggle out. She climbed into the sled. Her heart beat quickly. She couldn’t believe she was about to take a dogsled ride.

Fern tucked a blanket around Lizzie. “All set?”

Lizzie nodded. “I think so.”

“Keep your hands inside the sled,” Fern advised. She climbed onto the runners behind Lizzie and pulled up the snow hook. “Hike!” she cried. “Let’s go!”

Immediately, the dogs strained at their harnesses. Lizzie felt a thrill run through her whole body as the sled began to move. In a moment, the dogs were trotting quickly. They charged up the path with the sled gliding behind them.

Lizzie’s eyes filled with tears. She wasn’t sure why exactly. It wasn’t the cold breeze in her face. It was that it was just so — so beautiful, so
wonderful, to be flying through the snowy woods, watching the dogs run. Their tongues flapped in the cold air as they worked together as a perfect team. “Wow.” Lizzie felt completely happy. “Wow!”

“I know.” Fern spoke up behind her. “Isn’t it amazing? I’ve wanted to do this ever since I was a little girl and Dad told me about Susan Butcher. She won the Iditarod four times! Now I’m in training myself, for the Junior Iditarod. Next year Dad and I are both going to Alaska. He’s been training for years, and he thinks he and his team are ready.”

“Wow.” Lizzie hugged Bear’s warm, heavy puppy body to her chest. She could hear his little heart beating extra fast. Instead of curling up for a nap, he kept his head poked out of the top of Lizzie’s jacket. He watched every move the sled dogs made. Lizzie leaned back on the sled as the dogs galloped down a hill, sending chunks of snow flying.

The ride was over way too soon. Fern drove the dogs right up to Harris House. Mom, Dad, Charles, and the Bean, who had just returned from their ski tour, stood and stared as Lizzie climbed out of the sled.

“That was awesome!” Lizzie grinned at Fern. “Thank you so, so much.”

“Why don’t you and Bear come over to our place tomorrow?” Fern had one foot off the sled, holding the dogs back. “You can meet my dad and all our other dogs. We can even go for another ride.” She grinned and waved at Lizzie’s family. Then she hopped back onto the sled, and with a “Hike!” and a wave, she was gone.