The second time was very different, and much more dangerous. They had just slogged to the top of one of the rises. It was late afternoon by now and Amazon was exhausted. Her legs felt like they’d been taken away and surgically replaced by a substance more like marshmallow.
At the very top of the hill there were no trees at all, just low bushes and a tussocky grass as rough and tough as sandpaper. At the top Amazon paused to take in the view, but the others pushed on back down again.
Amazon increased her pace to catch up, and suddenly she was on her back and sliding. She didn’t have time to cry out before she careered into Frazer who, in turn, bashed into Dersu. The three of them were sliding down on the loose leaves, with Boris the Dog barking along excitedly, and only Makha left to save them from a steep and possibly fatal fall.
He turned, looked at them in a puzzled way, as if to say ‘What are these young people up to now?’ and then jabbed his staff into the ground at an angle across the line of their descent.
Dersu, Amazon and Frazer crashed into the stick.
Amazon thought that there was no way such a frail-looking old man could hold them all, but he planted his stout legs, grunted and they were saved.
Makha then calmly walked on again, without a word.
Falling together in a heap is one good way of cementing a friendship, and suddenly Frazer and Amazon felt closer to Dersu, especially as he did not seem to mind being bowled over by them. He smiled and helped them up.
‘I remember a Russian joke that I heard when I was at school in Moscow,’ he said. ‘Two men are walking in the woods, when one falls down an old well. The other runs over and calls down into the black hole. “My friend,” he yells, “can you hear me? Are you OK?” “Yes,” says the friend, “I can hear you.” “Are you badly hurt? Have you broken any bones?” “No, am not badly hurt, and I don’t think I’ve broken any bones.” “Thank goodness. And what is it like at the bottom of the well?” “I don’t know,” says the friend. “I’m still falling.”’
It took a moment or two for Amazon and Frazer to get the joke, but then they all laughed together, and once again trudged after Makha.
At the top of the next rise they had a much-needed rest. They unshouldered their packs and found rocks to sit on. Boris the Dog curled himself into an untidy heap and went straight to sleep.
The view before Amazon was truly spectacular. It was late summer now, and the first leaves were beginning to turn golden, emphasized by the touch of the sun, sinking ever lower in the sky.
‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ said Frazer, squatting next to Amazon. ‘I did tons of background reading on it. Out here you get three different forests for your money. Low down in the valley bottoms you get the sort of trees that like it wet and marshy – you see way down there, those tall skinny poplars and drooping willows?’
‘Uh-huh,’ said Amazon, too tired to take it in. It didn’t stop Frazer from carrying on with his mini lecture.
‘A little higher up the slopes and you come to what is known as the Manchurian broadleaf forest. There are maples, birches and elms just like the ones we get in Europe and America, but there are also Manchurian ash, Mongolian oak, the Amur cork tree and other unique species.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘And there you can see, the next layer up is dominated by evergreen pine and fir and spruce. The Russians call this the dark-coniferous taiga. It is the sort of forest that covers almost the whole of Siberia to the north, and it is the realm of hunters like the brown bear and the wolf.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘And then at the top, where we are now, it’s too high for trees, so you just get this tussocky alpine grassland –’
‘Uh-huh.’
If Amazon had been less tired she would have enjoyed both the lecture and the wonderful view across the seemingly endless forest, rolling away beneath them like a green sea.
The only thing ruining it was the dark line of smoke and the dull red glow coming from the fires away to the east.
‘May as well try this thing again,’ said Frazer, setting up the radio receiver.
He held the aerial high above his head and slowly turned round.
‘Still nothing,’ he groaned.
‘Could the transmitter thingy on the leopard be faulty?’ asked Amazon, pulling the water bottle from her pack and taking a gulp.
‘They’re pretty reliable. It’s more likely that the terrain is getting in the way. Radio waves can’t go through rock.’
Dersu approached them in his usual humble and courteous way.
‘My grandfather says we must hurry. It is almost time to make a camp for the night.’
And so they began to march down again, still following the trails made by wild pigs, along which the stealthy leopard had also walked.
Now she was back in the middle of it, rather than enjoying it from above, Amazon couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed in the forest. Most of what she knew about such places she’d learnt from TV documentaries, and that had led her to expect that the forest would be full of life and colour.
Of course she knew that she wouldn’t be seeing monkeys swinging through the trees or birds of paradise displaying in the branches. But apart from the darkly silent trees, the only living things here seemed to be huge ugly mosquitoes, and horseflies, and the tiny even more annoying gnats. And now that the day was waning the mosquitoes were worse than ever.
She stopped, and dug down in her pack for the insect repellent.
Frazer saw what she was doing and called ahead for the guides to wait.
‘Those no-see-ums are a pest, ain’t they?’ he said in his usual friendly and open way. ‘But at least there don’t seem to be any leeches yet. I once had one as big as a snake fastened on to my neck. And I didn’t even feel it, because they inject you with an anaesthetic …’
Amazon had a particular hatred for even the thought of leeches, and she quickly changed the subject, when suddenly she saw something – a flash of deep golden fur in the undergrowth a few metres behind Frazer.
And there!
Another glimpse of the same beautiful, burning, deadly colour.
This thing was big – at least two metres long. There was only one golden creature of that size in these forests.
Straight away Amazon thought: Cripes, we were looking for the leopard, but the tiger has found us.
Frazer realized that Amazon wasn’t looking at him, and that her face was rigid with fear. He turned slowly and saw the object of her gaze. And, like her, he immediately thought big cat.
He began to back away. And then he stopped, and smiled.
‘What is it?’ hissed Amazon.
Frazer put his hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. ‘It’s fine – look closely.’
And as she looked, Amazon realized that what she was looking at wasn’t one large predator, but two smaller ones.
‘Small’, however, is a relative term. These were the biggest – and most beautiful – weasels Amazon had ever seen. Their bodies were a rich gold, and their legs and tails a lovely nut brown. They were the size of foxes, but had the busy, predatory energy of all the weasel family.
‘They’re yellow-throated martens,’ he whispered.
‘What? How do you know?’
‘Hey, mammals of the world – it’s my thing!’
‘Oh. Are they dangerous?’ asked Amazon.
It was an odd question to be directed at something the length of her arm, but the martens looked utterly fearless.
‘They can be. Packs of them have been known to attack humans.’
‘Are you winding me up?’
‘Not this time. But these two look like they’re after easier pickings than us, Zonnie.’
And it was clear even to Amazon that the martens were on the trail of something. Their long necks twisted and writhed as they sniffed at the ground, darting back and forth. Then they were off.
At the same moment, Boris the Dog appeared at Amazon’s side. He had also caught a glim
pse of the martens, but had waited until they were heading safely in the opposite direction before he decided to make his presence felt. Now he managed a single gruff bark.
Dersu and Makha had followed the dog back.
‘Yellow-throated martens,’ said Frazer eagerly. ‘I think they’ve scented something.’
Dersu passed this on to Makha. They consulted for a few seconds.
‘We must follow,’ said Dersu. ‘It is possible that martens have found the scent of leopard kill. But not dog – will scare leopard.’
Amazon looked at Boris. She didn’t want to tie him up – not with all those predators around.
‘Right, Boris the Dog, you listen, and listen good. You can’t come with us, so you’ll have to stay right here. You get that? Stay!’
Boris looked at her, drooled and wagged his tail.
‘Dersu, how do you say “stay” in Russian?’
Dersu shrugged. ‘Os-tay-sya.’
‘Os-tay-sya!’ said Amazon in a strict voice.
To her amazement, Boris the Dog lay down on the ground, resting his slobbery muzzle on his front paws.
‘Hey, you are good with animals,’ said Frazer. ‘But if we’re going to catch up with those weasels …’
And with that the four of them set off in hot pursuit of the golden hunters.
For the first time they were away from the trail and amid the full tangled glory of the forest. Thorns tore at their clothing, briars and brambles tangled around them and roots tripped them. It seemed to Amazon that there was no way they could follow such swift and elusive creatures, moving as they did like sunlight through the forest, but every so often they would catch a reassuring glimpse of gold through the green, and know that they were still in with a chance.
After fifteen breathless minutes, Makha slowed and then crouched down behind the massive, moss-covered trunk of a fallen tree. Amazon, who was at his shoulder, realized that for the first time the old man was out of breath. But there, in a small clearing, was their quarry.
Frazer had seen plenty of kills in his time, so he knew what to expect. Amazon, however, had never seen a death like this before, red and gory and flecked with black flies.
And then there was the smell – disgusting, but somehow sweet, like rotten fruit.
She was repelled. And upset. But also fascinated. And deep down she knew that if she were to become a real Tracker, someone who would contribute to the vital work of saving animals around the planet, this was exactly the kind of thing to which she had to get used. So she gritted her teeth, and tied her mother’s spotted neckerchief round her nose and mouth.
The kill was a female sika deer. The doe’s beautiful spotted coat – what was left of it – was dappled by the late-afternoon light. Amazon could clearly see the bloody marks where the teeth had clamped round the lovely, slender neck, and slowly choked the life out of it.
Much of the back end of the carcass had already been eaten, and it was there that the two yellow-throated martens were making merry, burrowing into the raw red flesh with busy, silent intensity.
Dersu whispered in her ear: ‘This is the leopard’s kill. You see, the leopard always begins to eat from here.’ At this Dersu patted his backside. ‘It will return to eat again. Then you will have your chance to shoot with your toy gun.’
Frazer was already opening the X-Ark case.
‘This ain’t no toy, my friend,’ he said without any bitterness.
Frazer carefully loaded one of the darts, slotting it into the chamber, accessed through the stock at the back of the gun. Then he stroked the X-Ark a couple of times, the way you would a puppy, and handed it to Amazon.
She looked at him in amazement.
‘Truth is, Zonnie, I can’t shoot straight to save my life. And this might be our only chance.’
She was going to argue back, saying that it was Frazer’s gun, but in their hearts they both knew that what he said was true, and that the needs of the mission came first. She squeezed his arm, and took the X-Ark.
Frazer at least had his camera.
‘Not many people have photographed the Amur leopard at a kill,’ he said, holding up the expensive device. ‘Might be able to sell some shots to National Geographic.’
Amazon checked the sights on the X-Ark. She aimed at the deer and flicked the laser quickly on and off – even so it seemed to be enough to startle the martens, who pulled their heads out of the deer’s haunch and looked around, craning their long necks.
And then Amazon realized that it wasn’t the laser light that had startled them – how could it be when they were halfway inside the deer?
Something was coming.
‘Get ready,’ said Frazer, which slightly annoyed Amazon.
‘Of course I’m getting ready,’ she hissed back through the neckerchief. ‘What do you think I’m doing, polishing my nails?’
She gazed into the dense undergrowth. There was a sound, a rustling. But there was something wrong. The sound was coming from above them. She looked up. Yes, there was a shadow there, pushing through the leaves.
Of course, thought Amazon, the leopard might well arrive through the branches. Leopards were superb climbers, weren’t they?
But something about the big, dark shape in the tree didn’t really seem, well, leopard-like. It was too clumsy.
Too noisy.
Too black.
It looked more like a gorilla or a …
‘Bear,’ said Dersu. ‘Black bear.’
‘Gee,’ said Frazer, ‘I know black bears can climb, but in America they don’t usually get around like that, in the treetops, like chimps …’
‘Here the bear is afraid of the tiger, and so he spends nearly all of his time in the tree,’ said Dersu.
By this time the bear was shinning awkwardly backwards down the trunk, looking like a fat man in a fur coat.
With a final jump – which was, in truth, more like a fall – he landed not very far from the deer.
‘Oh, that’s so cool,’ said Frazer. ‘It’s an Asiatic black bear – you can identify it by the white bib at its throat.’
‘Is it dangerous?’ Amazon asked yet again, thinking of what Frazer had said about the much smaller martens. In truth, the creature in the clearing almost looked friendly.
‘They’re usually harmless enough, as long as you don’t get in between a mom and her cubs. Or unless they’re very, very hungry …’
As they watched, the bear – a rather scruffy-looking old boy, shuffled towards the deer carcass.
The two yellow-throated martens chittered and showed their teeth, but they were no match for the bear. In any case, they had eaten their fill. They flowed away though the undergrowth, as fluid and graceful as ever, despite their bellies full of venison.
Now it was the old bear’s turn to settle down to its dinner. It shoved its head into the deer with a noise like a toothless old man slurping soup.
Makha had been enjoying the show as much as the children, but suddenly his expression changed from concentrated interest in what was happening out in the clearing to puzzlement; and then something close to dismay. Dersu was about to speak to him, but the trapper clamped his hand over the boy’s mouth.
Amazon and Frazer looked at him in surprise, but before they had the chance to ask what was going on they found out for themselves, for there, lumbering out into the clearing, they saw a shaggy giant.
Amazon was no expert on bears, but she knew that this was a very different proposition to the scruffy old black bear, with its look of baffled dignity. This new arrival was simply immense, with a great hump of muscle swelling up between its shoulder blades. Each paw seemed like a huge war-club, complete with the long curving claws, like blades. The bear carried its head low to the ground, which added to the air of menace.
This was one of the famous and fearsome Ussuri brown bears – a close cousin of the grizzly, but with an even more fearsome reputation. It had smelled the meat, and it was coming to collect. It spotted the black impostor, gave a mighty
bellow and charged.
The charge was in the direction of the fallen tree behind which Amazon, Frazer, Makha and Dersu were hiding. It was impossible for Amazon and Frazer not to flinch – but even the wise old trapper and his grandson cowered further down behind the tree.
So busy was the old black bear at its feast that the first it knew about its rival was when one of those huge paws swept it aside as easily as you’d brush a fly from your dinner plate. The black bear uttered not a sound, but hurried away, dragging its injured back leg. It was heading straight for the concealed humans.
There was no knowing what might happen next. The black bear might be sulky and decide to take out its disappointment on them. It might strike out with its impressive claws as it passed.
Even worse, it might in some way draw the attention of the brown giant to their hiding place. But at the last second the black bear remembered that adult brown bears are too heavy to climb, and so its best hope of safety lay up in the trees.
Huffing and grunting, the black bear scuttled with surprising speed up into the protecting branches of a Korean pine, and made its escape high above the ground.
The brown bear stood on its back legs to survey the clearing. It towered more than three metres high, a grim brown ogre.
Makha pulled at Dersu.
‘We go now,’ said Dersu.
Amazon took no convincing. The black bear had amused and intrigued her, but she was trembling at the sight of the brown bear.
Frazer, however, was determined to get his shot. He focused his lens on the bear as it moved slowly to the deer carcass and clicked.
Instantly, the bear stopped. Frazer heard Makha hiss. He watched the bear’s ears swivel, like radar dishes. Makha signalled that they stay perfectly still. Any sound and the bear would come over to investigate, and if that happened then not all of them would live.
A more nervous bear might well have checked out the clearing a little more thoroughly, but this was the biggest bear in the whole of the Russian Far East. Nothing scared it – and it was hungry. So, with one big, huffing snort, it settled down next to the deer and started to eat.