WHILE SULLY WAS INGRATIATING HIMSELF with this new pack, I heard the unmistakable roar of a mountain lion back to the east. I thought of Lamar, all on his own, and shot back in that direction.
It turned out Lamar wasn’t in trouble. But his coyote friend was. A pair of the big cats had cornered Artemis in a box canyon on the east side of Druid Peak. I think I speak for all birds when I say cats are despicable, and mountain lions are the biggest ones in this part of the world. Like all cats, they enjoy nothing more than toying with their victims, and that’s just what they were doing with poor Artemis, closing in on her little by little while she tried in vain to scale the canyon’s sheer back wall.
I zoomed to the rocky knoll to alert Lamar. He wasn’t there. I gave Slough Creek a fly-by, but Lamar hadn’t rejoined the pack. He wasn’t over by the hot springs, either.
Eventually I spotted him up on Specimen Ridge. I landed near him in a charred pine. But as I looked down at the handsome young wolf I realized I didn’t want him torn limb from limb, and I decided to keep my mouth shut about Artemis. Against one mountain lion, he might have stood a chance, but not against two.
He didn’t greet me very cheerfully.
“What’s the matter?” I said.
“I can’t find a thing for her, Maggie. There’s so much melting snow—all the scents are washed away. I saw a bear. I think he’d just woken up from his winter nap. But I doubt Artemis likes bear.”
“Mmm,” I said, doubting Lamar could fell one.
He asked after the pack, and I told him that the buffalo meat and the warming weather were speeding his father’s recovery remarkably.
“How’s Hope?” he said.
“She seems back to a hundred percent. And she has Frick, of course. It’s good to see Frick happy. And your mother’s getting bigger and bigger. It won’t be long.”
“You haven’t seen Artemis today, have you?”
I wished he hadn’t asked that. “This tree suits me, don’t you think?” I said evasively.
“How’d it get so black?”
“The wild fires of ’88, I imagine. They’re legendary. They say half the park went up in flames.”
“You’re kidding! Imagine if Artemis got caught in a fire! I’d kill myself.”
I shot a guilty look toward Druid Peak. “You know, I might have seen a coyote,” I said, figuring the miserable cats had probably finished their cruel work by now. “Over in that box canyon by Druid Peak.”
“Was it Artemis?” he said eagerly.
“I’m not sure,” I fudged. “But a couple of mountain lions seemed to have cornered—”
He was off before I could finish my sentence. I flapped after him, wondering if I should have kept my beak shut. If the mountain lions had made a meal of Artemis, Lamar would be inconsolable. If the merciless cats ate him, I would be.
When we got to the canyon, the cats were still at their sadistic business, poor Artemis still trying to claw her way up the cliff. Every time she tumbled back, shivering and soaked to the skin, into the wet snow at the foot.
Lamar had heard his father’s call of the chase many times, but I’m pretty sure this was the first time he attempted one. Reverberating off the canyon walls, it sounded almost as deep and guttural as Blue Boy’s. The mountain lions wheeled around in surprise. Lamar’s neck arched. His ears, tail, and hackles shot straight up, and he snarled, narrowing his eyes to slits.
The surprise in the mountain lions’ eyes quickly turned to menace. The smaller of the two probably outweighed Lamar by fifty pounds. As they started to move in on him, I squawked, “Run!” The obstinate young wolf held his ground, his tail flying high.
Then I heard a muffled drone.
Of all wingless species, human beings are the only ones who’ve managed to do something about their bird envy. They can actually get off the ground. But only in deafening, ungainly machines. I’d always considered these contraptions loathsome. Birds can get sucked into the engines and turned to mincemeat. But as one of these planes rumbled by overhead, probably on its way to the nearest airport, I was grateful for it. Like all cats, mountain lions are skittish beasts. One of the pair bounded away on Lamar’s right, the other on his left. Lamar whirled around, but the cats had gone.
I was perched on some scree under the canyon’s north wall. Now I flew over to a lichen-covered rock next to Lamar. He was panting as I’d never seen him, his sides heaving.
“It goes to show that humans aren’t all bad,” I said.
Once he caught his breath, he said:
“You’re the one we should thank.”
“We?” I said.
He turned to the back of the canyon. But there was no sign of Artemis. As soon as the plane had distracted her torturers, she’d fled for her life.