Chapter VII: An Adventure

I do hope our ice-berg doesn’t drift too far away!” said Mother White Bear. “We’d spend another day on the mountain, if I thought it was safe to.”

“Let’s stay,” begged Sitka.

The way now grew steeper, and the river grew narrower and swifter, until the bunch grass gave way to tall ferns and the ground was soft with pretty colored mosses. In winter the reindeer paw the snow away with their feet and eat these mosses. Next came pale green willows and dark green spruce and cedar trees. The Snow Baby, sniffing their piny fragrance, rolled delightedly on the soft ground beneath them.

Later the slopes were all wet moss, into which the wee fellow sank so deep that his mother tried to lead him along the fallen tree trunks. But they too were slippery with moss, and every now and again he would slide off and have to be rescued. But then, there were the finest, big, juicy berries! Blue-berries, thimble-berries, fat ripe huckleberries, tart cranberries, and mild, sweet service-berries. It was a paradise for bears!

There were mushrooms, too, growing around the hollow logs, and Mother White Bear knew just which it was safe to eat, and which were poisonous. My, how she did love mushrooms!

“Mother,” Sitka begged, “let’s stay here all the time.”

But she explained that the summer is very short, just July and August, here in this part of the world, and soon would come ice and snow again, and they would have to go back to sea, where they could fish. Besides, she preferred the sea.

Sitka found it hard to imagine it ever being cold there, where the sun shone so hot! But by September, she told him, would come the long rains, and the days would grow shorter and shorter, till in mid-winter it was terrifically cold on these mountains.

Returning the way they had come, they found the Indians still singing and laughing about their little cook-fires. Along the river bank stood their baskets heaped with red and purple berries, and Sitka grabbed a pawful every chance he got. But Mother White Bear led him away around the Indian camp, as softly as she could walk, for “Safety First” was her motto where the red men were concerned.

Sitka was exhausted now, and they were eager to get back to their cave in the ice-berg. But the little berg, which Mother White Bear recognized by its shape, was away off behind two smaller bergs. Her first thought was to swim clear around them, but the cub was by now so tired and sleepy that he began whimpering and begging her to carry him. How she longed to get back to the safety of their cave, where he could sleep away the strange, sunlit night.

As the bergs were drifting in the blue summer sea, there was a narrow lane of water they might swim between the two new bergs, to reach their home. Well, she decided, she would chance it. She was a powerful swimmer, and Sitka could cling to her tail. If only those huge chunks of ice would stop drifting about so!

She had swum perhaps half this narrow channel when she suddenly became aware that the walls of ice that towered on either side were closer than when she had started. The two bergs were floating together, and the spray that dashed against their sides began to fill her eyes with mist, and her ears with the sound of the surf. Sitka, paddling wearily along behind her, with her stub of a tail in his mouth, began to squeal that he was being drowned, for the waves were chopping right over his head.

Mother White Bear redoubled her efforts, knowing that if they did not get through the channel quickly, they would surely be crushed between those two walls of ice. Anxiously she measured the distance that lay ahead, then with a backward glance she made a hasty estimate of the distance that lay behind them. Yes, they must be just about half way through the channel.

But ahead the space was narrowed till it seemed as if the icy walls must clash together before they could pass them. And the tide was all against her. Swim as she might, she could not seem to swim fast enough. How she wished now that she had taken the long, safe way around. But it was too late.

But was it?--If only she were headed the other way, the tide would help instead of hinder her. She glanced behind once more. To her surprise, the way was widening, instead of narrowing, behind them. In fact, the icy walls were drifting together in a V, and they were headed toward the point of the V.

Quick as thought, she turned, and began towing the tired Sitka back the way they had come. Then the ice ahead came together with a grinding roar, and the wave chop nearly strangled them. But she swam on, and the wee cub behind her, till they were out in open water. One last mighty effort and they were safe! An instant later the icy walls clashed again, grinding together until the channel was entirely closed. But they were safe!